As I start digging into Indian poetry’s publishing circles and connections, I find myself within 20 mins from Titania Palast in Berlin. I take the S-Bahn, across the former borders that divided the East and West sides of Berlin, and end up at a generic Kino in Berlin.
I have long wondered the fate of this blog. This website started as a post-midnight idea one winter night in Kreuzberg where I lived between 2015-2018. As the years have progressed, I have undertaken quite a few foiled ideas on this blog. Yesterday, as I started reading on a particular archive, something of a clarity […]
One of these days, as one does, we come across a relic. It is a relic that feels alienating precisely because it is not our past. It is a past that we have not lived through. We cannot look back. This is the past of our grandparents, at best.