A poem by Karan Madhok: “you survived: / a stranger among ancestors, / born on the wrong side of a new / imaginary line”

‘The avalanche went to ground; in its path all snow had slipped off the mountain, leaving only rocks and ice. For a moment the world was suspended in fear and dread. Chaos followed.’ Zachary Conrad recalls a fateful snowboarding adventure in Gulmarg and the lessons learned at the mercy of snowy, Kashmiri peaks.

‘All things on earth must return to earth—humans, too.’ From schoolboy cardigans to his muted Christmas merriment, Ronald Tuhin D’Rozario’s personal essay explores frozen memories of the past and lamentations of the present.

Good journeys tend to become a bridge… The bridge is always an internal choice. In a poetic photo-essay of brief, unforgettable encounters, Barnali Ray Shukla finds bridges that bring together divergent souls.

A poem by Ronald Tuhin D’Rozario: “Its beetroot tongue, interchange / Houses. Maps. Routes. Hormones. / There's a climate building in the chest”

Photo Gallery: Mumbai offers a heady balance of preserving the past while moving forward at breakneck speed, of the iconic, the beautifully mundane, and everything else in between. Here are snapshots from the Maximum City over the past decade - by Karan Madhok

Art: To support a charity project, Angad B. Sodhi embarked on an ambitious project, creating a hundred unique little pieces of art on clay diyas for Diwali.

Poetry and art by Jharna Sanyal and Partha Pratim Roy: ‘Sometimes I walk out of my skin / in search of the duck pond where / moss green water plays with thirsty branches’.

A poem by Karan Madhok: “i have time to ask why i have time, / to contemplate this sudden nothingness.”

Photo Essay: Amidst the gorgeous Himalayan backdrop in the hamlet of Landour (Mussoorie) Gopala Krishna finds strange beauty in the old Bazaar, where history has long stood still for the local community.

Photo Essay: Lost without direction, and happy to keep moving—Varanasi’s labyrinthine old gullies and the Ganga riverside provide the glimpse of a world without time, where the ancient world collapses into the present. By Karan Madhok

Poetry by Sanskriti K: ‘And watching me- / hacking the fruits of / the subconscious / from the tedious branches / of unexposed reality.’