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By Selina Toussaint-Peterson In a world where the things of the past are seen as outdated, Where social media posts define you by being rated. In a world where time is precious and people rush to and fro, Happiness and peace has often left their hearts replaced with misery and woe. In a world where ignoring those in need is regarded as the norm, Ignoring their cries for help, walking past like they were never born. In a world where money and power have become the ultimate goa

By Selina Toussaint-Peterson Do you have a clue what it feels like to be told to go back to where you come from? Where’s that then, England? The same country as you and my mom! Do you know what it feels like when your house is no longer a home, You feel like a stranger, an outsider in your city, chilling your bodies bones. Do you have a clue about the racial tension being served? To everyone that doesn’t look the part even though it’s undeserved! We both were born here, but o

By Selina Toussaint-Peterson Recently I saw an article that discussed skin bleaching, I have so much to say on this topic don't worry I won’t start preaching. The skin on your body was formed just for you, Don't let anyone make you feel less than like an animal in the zoo. Your melanin complexion helps to protect you from the sun, Stop worrying about your complexion go out there and have fun. The disturbing trend promoting the need for ethnics to bleach their skin, Isn't in y

By Rosh Williams Never had much  Nor do I now. I never will crave more than what I need. Not much in my pocket, But still – I offer a hand if you need. Rich in my thoughts, Rich in discipline. Born with a heart so full –  To understand, To feel deeply. I welcome all with open wings, But when balance fades, I burn the bridges. For the faith I hold in these wings Is stronger than anything in this world. No one can steal the courage or the fire within me. Each day,  a whisper re

By Kshitij Kawatra हम हमीं के अब नहीं शायद दिवाने हो गए  अपनी ही हम फ़िल्म के हीरो पुराने हो गए  रात दिन की नौकरी सोए न सोने दे ये पर इक हँसी से कितने रोशन आशियाने हो गए  बाँध कर जो वक़्त खूँठे से रखा करते थे हम  संग उन के सहल वो लम्हे बिताने/गँवाने हो गए  है नज़र आती झलक तुझ में मेरे अज्दाद की  इस बहाने उनसे भी मिलने मिलाने हो गए  लड़खड़ाते हैं क़दम रुकना न सीखा हमने पर खानदानी ढीट गिर गिर कर स्याने हो गए  भूक गर्मी नींद बे-चैनी या किलकारी तिरी  याद मुझ को मुख़्तलिफ़ सारे तर

By Kshitij Kawatra किताबें सब जलाना चाहता हूँ  नई दुनिया बनाना चाहता हूँ  सिखाए जोड़ने अल्फ़ाज़ कोई  दिल-ए-सोज़ाँ बुझाना चाहता हूँ  गुल-ए-दाग़-ए-जुनूँ की आरज़ू है  बहाराँ का बहाना चाहता हूँ  हुआ मशहूर मैं तेरी इनायत  सभी को ये बताना चाहता हूँ  मुझे आया नहीं फ़न जीतने का  जिसे देखूँ हराना चाहता हूँ  हँसी में तेरी कुछ पल के लिए मैं  ये हौल-ए-दिल छुपाना चाहता हूँ  गिरेबाँ चाक ले दर दर फिर मैं  किसे जाने रिझाना चाहता हूँ  By Kshitij Kawatra

By Kshitij Kawatra बर्बाद कर मेरे सभी रिश्ते यहाँ  कब रोकने से है रुकी सैफ़-ए-ज़बाँ मत पूछ तू क्या इश्क़ में हासिल हुआ  मैं मावरा था आलम-ए-सूद-ओ-ज़ियाँ है ढूँढती फिरती मुझे दुनिया कहीं  मैं छुप गया जैसे ख़ुदा का हूँ निशाँ  तय कर चुका मैं मंज़िलें जो दूर की  क्या फ़िक्र फ़स्ल-ए-गुल मिले या फिर ख़िज़ाँ था काम ग़ैरत तेरा मुझ को रोकना  क्यों संग मेरे चल पड़ी ओ राएगाँ  क्या फ़िक्र उनको जो हुए अहल-ए-चमन गुलज़ार की चिंता में डूबा बाग़बाँ  मैं ढूंढता था जब मदद मेरे ख़ुदा तू ने वफ़ा क

By Kshitij Kawatra गुलशन को कर दें एक सा कहने लगे हज़रात अब यक रंग फूलों से सजे हो बिन महक बाग़ात अब  हमने न छोड़ी थी कसर जब बंदगी में रात दिन  भेजी दुआएँ ऐ ख़ुदा क्यों चुप खड़ा बे-बात अब कहने लगी दुनिया के तुम उम्मीद रखना छोड़ दो  उम्मीद से क़ायम मगर धरती पे हैं सजदात अब  हर दिन नई इक आग दुनिया को जलाती थी दिखी  यूँ रूख बदल लाई हवा घर पर ये इम्कानात अब  यूँ तो सभी ने था सुना चर्चा हमारे वस्ल का  मौसम हुआ है हिज्र का हो शहर में बरसात अब  मैं तो सलीका ढूंढता था रिज़्क की इस दौ

By Aeriel Holman We have so many memories, Rolling in our brain Like the sea… Like ocean waves. They spill into one another And crash together Foaming at the mouth… Our mouth… That tasted foam too early That knew too much While innocence was still required. All is tainted now  By mermaid’s seafoam… What an ugly thing… Even though, As we all know, Aphrodite was made of foam And another thing That foams. And we recall its taste,  still. By Aeriel Holman

By Aeriel Holman Bedridden with bile on the taste buds, Washing it away with lemon and lime and salt Saltines and 7-Up can cure cancer And coincidentally anything in between. Happy Birthday to me , I thought —thinking about being out drinking— A wasted day of 21st birth got worse. I was told premature plans Of your pretty, but petty proposal, And I prophesized—appropriately— The answer before the proclamation. Sick to the stomach and ill inside, that’s How I lost you—all befo

By Aeriel Holman Once upon a time, in the damp cream colored sand, sat two ingénues silhouetted against a hazy sun. The night has not yet risen behind them, and the scene is awash in a pearly gray and champagne pink. There is beauty, calm and natural, as they stare together at rolling breaks of the sea lines. The moment is fleeting, but filled with a vague sense of impending repetition as the sun and moon will rise and set again in hours, and the ocean will continue to lap ag

By Aeriel Holman Tonight, while making dinner, I had a Weird introspection about God. I had to make some meal-in-a- box that was more soup than actual food. as I stood in front of the stove more statue than chef I was waiting for my creation to boil. At first the mess is all liquid pinches of meat chunks of spices clumped with transparent rice You can barely make it out. I was staring down as heat made the center  bubble pushing fermenting milk aside and astride domes of wate

By Aeriel Holman Everyday I wonder, as I glance out the window, Who truly loves me? Who truly cares? There is no pretending for me here. I must be alone. No Knights dressed to shame the moon call to me, here—alone—in the lowest tower. How long have I waited for he who rides free? I have been perched upon this sill, watching from afar as the countless stonewalls have been climbed around me. Every color of Knight comes for the rescue of his darling, my sisters who were not sist

By Javeria Ahmed Seventeen years have passed since I lost my father and not a day goes by when I don’t think about him or miss him. As cliched as it may sound, my father has always been my hero and I've looked up to him in every possible way. I have thought about writing a memoir but have been at a loss to do so, words will always fall short of doing justice to my papa, as we fondly called him, as he was too good to be true. Accepting and coming to terms with the loss of a pa

By Javeria Ahmed While being a mother is one of the most satisfying jobs, it’s also the toughest. The thought of bringing and then raising another human being in the world can be a bit overwhelming. In spite of the highs and lows, almost every woman aspires to experience that as womanhood and motherhood are considered two sides of the same coin, especially in our part of the world. It has been deeply rooted in our minds since ages that a woman’s primary purpose in life is to

By Javeria Ahmed I taught Tennyson’s Break, Break, Break for nearly three years to my students but never fully comprehended the poet’s feelings until I received the dreadful news of my mother’s passing away. It was so sudden and shocking and I have still not come to terms with this new reality, this void that I feel with every breath I take, this emptiness that has engulfed everything around me. Grief has different stages and it affects us in various ways, there is denial in

By Robin Rivadeneira ¿Por qué criticamos nuestro alrededor? ¿Por qué cuestionamos ciertos hechos? Más bien, ¿por qué no cuestionamos todo? Y ¿Para qué criticamos? De no cuestionar no creceríamos De no criticar no aprenderíamos Estúpidos ignorantes seríamos.  By Robin Rivadeneira

By Robin Rivadeneira Me fui a caminar Buscando algún otro lugar para mis lágrimas sepultar, antes de que me rompa. Muy lejos no pude llegar. Las piernas no me fallan, el corazón y la mente si. Como una cuncuna Obligados a arquearse para avanzar.  ¿Es que no lo ves? ¿No lo entiendes? Cada ritmo es único,  las melodías por igual. Irreplicable. El desorden su sentido tiene, como el verso “el amor nos separará”.  Si el amor iba conmigo, el dolor no se quedó atrás.  By Robin Rivad

By Edvelyn Lee An awkward peace the sun after a storm  delusion of everything is alright  nonetheless, I bask in the ray  feeling the warmth as I laid  as though I never tore my heart out  and tear ducts intact  grateful for the day that comes after the chilling and haunting night  for now I will seep in the serene quietness while fearing for the chaotic loudness thats looming By Edvelyn Lee

By Edvelyn Lee Purple is my favourite colour It resonated with me the moment I laid my eyes on it  Whilst colouring the picture books,  it was just a pretty violet  the same violet in the rainbows after a storm  Whilst choosing my mechanical pencil,  it was in due time I knew what this indigo symbolises loyalty & royalty  a reflection of who I wanted to embody Whilst coming of age to present,  it was also the attaching strings and stings of bruises  a haunting gut feeling of