A blue whistling thrush swoops from behind Palavi’s kutir, Hindi for cabin, anytime we step out. We know of women from Kausani who carry large baskets of rice shoots on their heads, their bodies thin and straight as pines spread in these Himalayan foothills. They wear saris vermillion, turquoise, chartreuse or midnight blue as the … Continue reading
fall 2015 / Issues / Poetry 2015 / Volume 46