Sakshi Nadkarni on Amitabha Bagchi’s Half the Night is Gone (2018), a tale of stories withing stories, both dense and sparse, a glimpse across many Delhis, a meditation on sorrow, fatherhood, self-reflection, and literature itself.

Madhu Raghavendra’s poetry confronts issues of contemporary Indian politics and culture, verses that hold a mirror to our faces to witness our responses to our reflections. By Satarupa Bhattacharya

Poetry by Shivangi Mishra: ‘Icarus’ airplane crashed squarely into forsaken humanity, a pit, / In future was shown history.’

Amrit Pal Singh’s 3D toy-like renditions of characters, figures, and movements celebrate a whimsical childhood that transcends age. By Bindu Gopal Rao

In her latest work, Aruna Chakravarti revisits the early 20th century ‘mejo kumar’ story, now allowing all its characters—particularly its females—to speak in their own voices. By Saurabh Sharma

‘The net hadn’t made her view of the sky any less clear, but she had felt imprisoned in its presence, even more so than she already did in the tedium of days she had accepted as her life.’ By Priyanka Sacheti

Poetry by Ajay Kumar: ‘we break news with each other more than we / break bread. this just in: i’ve never been out / for blood anymore than i’ve been out for good.’

Short story by Rhea Gangavkar: ‘I looked at the hospital’s main gate; how many people were here for the same thing? I looked at Megha. She was staring at the sky as she softly whispered, “It might rain.’”

In his latest work, Salman Rushdie expertly flirts with the line between fact and fiction, declaring all living beings—including those reading his book—may be ‘characters’ in a grander historical fiction. When nothing is real, stories are the only reality. By Karan Madhok

Jerry Pinto’s The Education of Yuri (2022) is an atmospherically saturated, layered accordion, sounding an adventure in scale that simultaneously encompasses the chronicle of a young boy’s coming of age, and a time capsule of Bombay of a bygone era. By Paromita Patranobish

Personal Essay by Bharti Bansal: ‘The only way light can bend with no escape is by entering a black hole. You grow old enough to realize that whatever happened to you wasn’t the universe communicating. It breaks you in the worst possible ways.’

Personal essay by Sreelekha Chatterjee: ‘I had a habit of waking up at the slightest disturbance in the surroundings. In the wavering streetlight coming from the open doors at both ends of the room, there were silhouettes of ghastly figures shortening and lengthening.’