Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Out of Print Author Series: Annie Zaidi


Short stories about LOVE

Annie Zaidi, whose disturbing yet liberating story, ‘Sujata’ appeared in the first anniversary issue of Out of Print, has a new book, 'Love Stories # 1 to 14'. Here is a capture of the stories in it:

A woman who won’t let the shadow of death disrupt her love-life, another who falls irrevocably in love with a dead police officer, a devoted wife who steps out twice a week for Narcotics Anonymous meetings, friends who should have been lovers, the woman who offers all her pent-up love to a railway announcer’s voice … AnnieZaidi’s delightful short stories are at once warm and distant, violent and gentle – and, above all, untroubled by cynicism. This is a look at love, straight in the eye, to understand the contrary, alluring nature of the beast.

Out of Print Editor, Indira Chandrasekhar had the pleasure of chatting about writing and the literary world with Annie over the course of Mumbai's Literature Festival last month. Although we have not yet explored Love Stories, we are quite sure they will be worth the read!


Saturday, November 10, 2012

Kekoo Gandhy by Ranjit Hoskote

In memoriam: Kekoo Gandhy (2 February 1920-10 November 2012)

Ranjit Hoskote

To run into Kekoo Gandhy, whether at the old Gallery Chemould on the first floor of the Jehangir Art Gallery, Bombay—or more recently, at its successor institution, Chemould Prescott Road, directed by his daughter Shireen—was to be drawn instantly into his latest scheme for civic improvement or his latest proposal for sweeping reform in the nation’s art infrastructure. When Kekoo passed away on Saturday morning, he took with him a nation-sized archive, an intimate knowledge of the epic debates as well as the invisible micro-politics that had shaped the field in which many of us, his younger contemporaries, have chosen to plough our paths: postcolonial Indian art.

Kekoo was a pioneer who helped formulate the contours of the postcolonial Indian art world. He was one of independent India’s earliest gallerists; his creation, Gallery Chemould, evolved organically in 1964 from his frame-making establishment, which had itself been born as a result of his collaboration with a set of connoisseurs and entrepreneurs who had foreseen the rise of a class of viewers and collectors of Indian art in the aftermath of World War II. Indeed, the name of the gallery carries, within itself, an echo of those distant origins: Chemould is a compound formed from its parent company’s name, Che(mical) Mould(ings). But Kekoo was not simply a gallerist devoted to the refinement and expansion of his own practice and its economic contexts. Rather, his historic contribution lies in the public-spiritedness and generosity with which he identified, helped create, and worked to sustain the cultural and infrastructural contexts in which modern Indian art could live, breathe and grow.

Kekoo was a committed supporter of institutions and an advocate of institution-building in the domain of the arts as well as in civil society, whether in relation to the Bombay Arts Society, the Jehangir Art Gallery, the National Gallery of Modern Art’s Bombay branch, the Lalit Kala Akademi, or Triennale India. Always ready to sit on a committee, never tired of making representations or lobbying politicians and bureaucrats, he worked always from an intelligent and precise awareness of the necessary connections between art practice, enlightened patronage, responsive governmental institutions, and a liberal public sphere. He understood the importance of creating national-level bodies to present modern Indian art to the new republic’s citizens at a time when certain mandarins in Delhi thought culture to be synonymous with the subcontinent’s ancient sculpture. He saw merit in touring Indian art internationally, in an age when developmentalist dogma tended to derogate the claims of culture in favour of the mandate of economic growth.

*
As an early champion of Indian modernism, an associate of the Moral Rearmament movement (MRA), an opponent of the Emergency (1975-1977), and a friend of SAHMAT (the Safdar Hashmi Memorial Trust), Kekoo put his money, energy, time and considerable network of contacts where his mouth was. He was a man who acted fearlessly on his beliefs and convictions, with untarnished optimism and uncompromising idealism. During the Emergency, this meant offering shelter to dissidents on the run from a State that had suspended civil freedoms; between 1996 and 2004, this meant supporting the activities of vocal critics of the right-wing government of the time. In the summer of 2007, when a number of us, galvanised by the artist and activist Tushar Joag, came together to organise the ‘Free Chandramohan Committee’ to demand the release of a Baroda art student brazenly arrested by the police on grounds of obscenity and communal provocation, it was Kekoo who addressed the assembly from the steps of the Jehangir Art Gallery, calling in his characteristic ringing tones for the defence of cultural freedoms. And at all times, he would urge those of us whose destinies were linked to the NGMA Bombay to re-dedicate ourselves to that institution, whose unconstrained efflorescence remained one of his cherished dreams.

In consonance with the core beliefs of the MRA, Kekoo did his best to practise the ‘Four Absolutes’: absolute honesty, absolute purity, absolute unselfishness, and absolute love. While the pursuit of honesty often meant that he spoke truth bluntly to power and unhesitatingly rebuked those he felt to be responsible for a decline in standards, the pursuit of love meant that he extended his legendary generosity towards a large number of interlocutors, whether callow art students, artists from small towns showing for the first time in Bombay, civil-society activists, young writers, or activists against communitarian violence. And if the mandate of absolute purity meant that he was often as autobiographically transparent and self-critical as his near-namesake and admired icon, Mahatma Gandhi, his belief in absolute unselfishness could lead him to forsake the pragmatics necessary to the unruffled working of a business enterprise.

Kekoo and his wife Khorshed ran Gallery Chemould. Or rather, Khorshed ran it while Kekoo dreamt, talked, shared his infectious enthusiasms, and formed coalitions and platforms. Through the nearly seven decades of their marriage, and their close partnership in the gallery, they came across as a portrait of beautifully wedded opposites. With her practicality and eye for the details of contracts and execution, Khorshed provided a bracing and productive counterpoint to her husband, with his preference for high-altitude navigation in the realms of vision and policy. Chemould’s programme was inclusive, taking in a wide spectrum of the manifestations of modern Indian art between the 1950s and the 1990s, embracing practices that were variously abstractionist, figurative, narrative, allegorical, minimalist and conceptualist in their orientation.

Chemould’s gallery practice helped define the main currents of postcolonial Indian art. But it could also be an adventurous and unpredictable practice: it could be counterintuitive, defiant of received wisdom, sometimes anticipating turns in curatorial and art-historical practice. For instance, Kekoo and Khorshed chose to show the work of the Warli artist Jivya Soma Mashe, and to work with the Hazaribagh-based environmental activist and convenor of tribal women artists, Bulu Imam, at a time when so-called ‘tribal’ art was met with condescension if not outright derision in metropolitan art circles. In 1987, the Gandhys conceived and sponsored the Bombay Arts Festival, held at the Nehru Centre in Worli, with a special focus on emerging tendencies in Indian sculpture curated by the cultural theorist and film scholar Ashish Rajadhyaksha (I remember this event with affection; it was where I gave a public reading of my poems for the first time). In conversation with writers through the generations, such as the distinguished poet and critic Nissim Ezekiel (who briefly worked as manager at Chemould’s framing factory, in the course of a long and variegated life), the Gandhys also extended their hospitality to the other arts, especially literature, theatre and cinema. In 1990, Chemould hosted a festival of literature, ‘Gadyaparva’, and helped build a nucleus fund for the eponymous journal of contemporary writing in Gujarati, edited by Geeta and Bharat Naik.

Looking back at the stellar contribution of the Gandhys between the 1950s and the 1990s, including a series of memorable exhibitions by a dazzling array of artists—among them, to name only a few, Bhupen Khakhar, J. Swaminathan, Vivan Sundaram, Nalini Malani, Atul Dodiya, Anju Dodiya, Gieve Patel, Gulammohammed Sheikh, Nilima Sheikh, Mehlli Gobhai, Sudhir Patwardhan, Rummana Hussain, N. Pushpamala, Subodh Gupta, Jitish Kallat, Bharti Kher, Reena Kallat, Shilpa Gupta—it seems improbable that they could have staged all these achievements in the cramped, kidney-shaped environment of the old Gallery Chemould. Looking further back, we see, in the mind’s eye, the Gandhy family warehouse on Princess Street that Kekoo turned into Chemould Frames, which was not only a shop for frames but also an early meeting place for the Bombay artists of the 1950s, the Progressives among them. Indeed, these spaces seem already to be distant memories, when we walk through the elegant, high-ceilinged, expansive spaces of Chemould Prescott Road; but their energies continue to circulate through the successor establishment.

A large number of relatives, friends, colleagues, associates and fellow pilgrims from the diverse theatres of his life came to pay Kekoo Gandhy homage at his funeral on Saturday, 10 November 2012. To many of us, he was a warm and affectionate mentor figure, a crusader for diverse important causes who acted as a reference point for responsible citizenship, and a vital bridge to an earlier and formative period in our collective life as a society and an art world. His memory will be cherished, and will live on in the institutions, initiatives and impulses that his children, Adil, Rashna, Behroz and Shireen Gandhy have inherited.


Saturday, November 3, 2012

Girish Karnad on V S Naipaul brings Literature aLive


The Tata Literature Live Festival started off as a somewhat quiet gathering of literary folks at the NCPA in Mumbai despite Jeeth Thayil’s wonderful reading from Narcopolis, irreverent and unambiguous in damning all peoples across the geographic and regional spread of the country. 

Focusing on sessions that editor Indira Chandrasekhar attended that featured Out of Print authors, we heard Altaf Tyrewala indicate that the nostalgia that apparently drives the writing of others on the panel 'Has Writing Failed Mumbai' is not the sole thing that motivates his creativity. Annie Zaidi moderated a panel on the writer as an activist, leading journalists and writers such as Alia Ibrahim, Dilip D’Souza, Tenzin Tsundue through a fascinating discussion on their experiences and approaches to writing. It was a low key literary atmosphere. Then, on Friday, November 2 in the early afternoon, the tension and energy in the festival rose several notches up the scale of excitement, engagement, drama and controversy.

In a session listed as one in which actor and playwright Girish Karnad would talk about his life in theatre, Mr Karnad confronted the organisers of the festival and asked them to explain how they justified giving Sir Vidia Naipaul the Landmark Lifetime Achievement Award. The event has been widely written about and I direct you to articles And Girish Karnad Went Boom by Deepanjana Pal and Girish Karnad Takes On V S Naipaul by Supriya Nair to get a sense of quite how intense and explosive it was and to a statement by SAHMAT to get a sense of the solidarity of activist groups to Mr Karnad's comments.


Monday, October 29, 2012

Out of Print Author Series: Mridula Koshy


Mridula Koshy’s Not Only The Things That Have Happened will be released in a few weeks. The book summarised: With her dying breath a mother dreams of reconciliation with the son she gave away when he was four years old; a world away the son is a grown man struggling to inhabit a life in which the past is an unknowable dream.



Out of Print knows Mridula’s work from her collection If It Is Sweet (Tranquebar Press, 2009). Our inaugural issue reprinted a story, The Good Mother from the collection, a close examination of a woman who, ‘At the end of her tenure as mother, … leaves Manchester for her parents' home in Dehra Dun to enact … a pilgrimage.’

We asked Mridula about the experience of writing a novel as opposed to short fiction.

MK: Certainly writing the novel was more of a slog when compared to the work of writing the short story, which springing from inspiration stays in that hallucinatory realm to the last line. However editing short stories individually and finally putting together a collection had some of the same slog factor as writing the novel. The novel fulfills a different ambition, it has a built in capacity for the panoramic view, which I wanted and needed to tell the particular story of 'Not Only the Things That Have Happened'. In this novel I got to cover roughly four decades in the lives of the two protagonists, in addition to wandering afield in the history-politics-culture of two societies, that of Kerala and the Midwestern United States and finally to take a hard look at the much romanticized institution of adoption . Both forms have the capacity for experimentation but the novel with its multitude of built in assumptions resists experimentation as the short story doesn't. The short story is ultimately the more honest of the two devices, less concerned with real time verisimilitude, the desire to imitate life or even plausibility.

Out of Print Author Series


1       Annam Manthiram with After The Tsunami   Sep 06, 2011
2       Murzban Shroff with Breathless in Bombay   Oct 01, 2011
3       Annie Zaidi’s The Bad Boy’s Guide To The Good Indian Girl (with Smriti Ravindran)   Oct 18, 2011
5       Annie Zaidi’s script Jaal  in production   Jan 05, 2012
6       Anjum Hasan’s Difficult Pleasures   April 03, 2102
8       Sampurna Chattarji’s Land Of The Well   May 31, 2012
10    Janice Pariat’s Boats On Land   Oct 01, 2012

Behind The Shadows


A recent e-anthology, Behind The Shadows edited by Rohini Chowdhury and Zukiswa Wanner with the objective of bringing together the continents of Africa and Asia bears the theme outcast. It features work from associates of Out of Print, Rumjhum Biswas and Sucharita Dutta-Asane.

Sucharita Dutta-Asane’s story, Absolution was run on the Out of Print blog to accompany the mythology issue of the magazine. The story is preceded by  a quote from Arshia Sattar’s, The Ramayana by Valmiki, (Penguin Books, 2000) that reads, ‘Then Gautama cursed his wife. “You shall be invisible to all creatures as you do penance in this hermitage! You shall be purified only when Rama, the invincible son of Dasaratha, comes to this forest. Wicked woman, when you offer hospitality to Rama, you shall be freed of your lust and passion. You shall regain your earlier form in my presence!”’ It opens into a contemporary tale of perceived sin and absolution.

Rumjhum and Out of Print editor, Indira Chandrasekhar got to know each other in the process of releasing Pangea, the anthology that Indira edited with Rebecca Lloyd. Rumjhum conducted a series of interviews of that included both Indira and Rebecca, as well as many of the authors. It was really interesting to hear what the authors had to say about their respective stories, and it was fun for Rebecca and myself to talk about bringing Pangea together. The interviews were featured on the Everyday Fiction blog, Flash Fiction Chronicles.

I asked the following of both Sucharita and Rumjhum:
Tell us a bit about your story in Behind The Shadows: what inspired you to write it and why you saw it as fitting into the anthology.

Sucharita:
The story that Sucharita has contributed to Behind The Shadows is called Cast Out and follows the wife of a priest in a temple on a hill and the ramifications of her interpretation of the monthly taboos associated with her bodily cycles.
S D-A:
The politics of ‘taboo’ has a strange effect in our culture; it engenders many things, one of which is rebellion. This is true of all societies; in ours it takes on implications that seep into our daily living. Most of us have lived with and through taboos related to menstruation and felt rebellion in our blood. We have been cast out of various portals, but what happens to the gods we worship? Can they be cast out too? How culpable are they in our beliefs and belief systems?

My story ‘Cast Out’ explores the practice of ‘belief’. It involves, rather sweepingly, gender issues, sexual issues, and the concept of what is taboo and what permissible. It hovers along the edges of the personal and the public, of the mind and body. When I started writing it, I only had an image in my mind, of a dark temple on a hill. Often, when I travelled by train between Pune and my hometown Jamshedpur, I would watch co-passengers fold their hands or throw coins towards temples on distant hills, shadowy in the evening light. As I began to write the story, not knowing where it would lead, I remembered that distant image and wondered what the people knew of the myriad temples to have such faith in their invisible deities. What if the temples were non-functional, devoid of their moortis, or a den of vice? This was the trigger. The menstruating woman and her quiet self assertion came much later. When she did, she had me in her grip. Through Tara, I began to feel the denial of existence that menstruating women still experience across our country. I remember discussing this story, much after I had written it, at a writing workshop. Everybody had a story to tell on the subject, horror stories, funny stories, angry stories.   

‘Cast Out’ went through quite a few drafts before it reached this stage. In each draft, I saw it evolve, grow out of my control, spread out, retract, cave in, assert itself. I didn’t know where I would send it or how it would be received. I just knew that this story needed to be told. I’m so glad it has found a warm home for itself.

Rumjhum:
Rumjhum’s story in the anthology is called The Vanishing Man and is about a clerk in an office who has retired and how he perceives the world as seeing him. The story emerges wonderfully through the everyday activity of the protagonist.
R B:
I wrote The Vanishing Man sometime in 2003-2004. The story was first published in The Paumanok Review in 2004 (I think), before the magazine went on hiatus. I believe it re-opened recently, and my story is still archived there.

‘Outcast’ – the theme, concept, its many manifestations, effects and influences – is close to my heart. The Vanishing Man is not the only story around this theme that I’ve written. There have been other stories as well as poems; I seem to be working on something or the other around this theme, every now and then. My novel, which will be published sometime in 2013 by Lifi Publications, also has characters that are outcasts. From an early age I have been able to identify with those that fall under the category of ‘other’ and/or are outcasts. It may have something to do with certain life circumstances, however small. It certainly has to do with me as a person. I remember as a small child, looking at lepers and (mentally) transmigrating into their bodies; for an hour or so I was in my inner world as a leper tackling life. And that was not the only time, and not only with lepers either. This identification with the other naturally seeps into my creative writing.

Regarding the story and its protagonist, I've noticed that sometimes, in our male dominated and male-centric society, it is the man who becomes the victim. It's a curious thing. These men, reared on the belief that man being superior must therefore shoulder all the responsibilities that come with it as husbands, fathers, brothers etc., become helplessly caught in their own notions of duty. And their self esteem and sense of worth are irredeemably tied to it. Men (in our society) go through depression and feel they've lost their masculinity (and I mean masculinity and not merely virility), their idea of themselves as men, once they retire. In our country we have no rehabilitation programme or pre-retirement sessions that can help pre-retirees tackle their superannuated lives better. Family members are not sensitised. Wives and grown-up children in many cases treat such men with derision. Once they've stopped becoming bread winners, they no longer deserve the special treatment meted out to them before, like being served first at the table, their opinions sought etc. Not many men are able to turn philosophical and forgiving at the sudden change in attitude. The man, bewildered and at a loss, has no means of filling up his suddenly empty hours with meaningful activity. I've seen elderly men turn either extremely meek or vicious. The more they lose their physical strength, the more mentally debilitated they seem to become. Sometimes, the man is successfully able to deal with post-retirement issues, mostly due to his own efforts and sometimes thanks to good family support. Our government and society offer little or no help. In my story, my protagonist Satyabrata, comes to terms with his new status, in his own way; at the end when he has nothing, he still has his faculties about him, his mental strength to become free.

Friday, October 19, 2012

Out of Print layout recognised


  Praise for Out of Print from Marko Fong, fiction editor of  Wordrunner e-Chapbook.com. In an article in Flash Fiction Chronicles entitled Electronic Chapbooks: A Manifesto part 2 – Now and Future, part 3 of a series on chapbooks, Marko says:

… layout, appearance, and navigability matter…. Every editor has an obligation to care about every aspect of production.  Online journals need to be especially vigilant about it, because too many of our peers aren’t. Here are some that I’ve seen meet that standard.  Summerset Review, Kweli Journal, Smokelong Quarterly, Prime Number, Solstice Quarterly, RKVRY, Wigleaf, The Collagist,  Anderbo, Juked, Elimae, Blackbird, Out of Print.  

We are honoured to be in such exalted company!


Thursday, October 4, 2012

Out of Print 9


Out of Print 9 features a single work by U R Ananthamurthy. The Hunt, The Bangle and The Chameleon, has never been published in translated form.

The cover is an image from a collaborative community project by N S Harsha.

Chandrahas Choudhury in his review of the recently translated Bharathipura (translation, Sushila Punitha, Oxford University Press, 2011) comments that ‘Mr Ananthamurthy … takes as his great theme Hinduism's relationship to modernity.’ Professor Anathamurthy’s work, Tim Parks says ‘has the all difficulty and rewards of the genuinely exotic, … [in comparison to] the far more familiar Indians writing in English ... who have used their energy and imagination to present a version of India to the West where exoticism is at once emphasized and made easy.

One of Professor Ananthamurthy’s most acclaimed novels is Samskara: A Rite for a Dead Man (translation A K Ramanujan, Oxford University Press, 1976) later made into an award winning film by Pattabhi Rama Reddy. In India: A Wounded Civilisation (Andre Deutsch 1977, Penguin, 1979), V S Naipaul sees the novel that in his view captures ‘the Indian idea of the self’, as ‘a form of social inquiry’ which highlights the decay of Indian civilisation. Refuting this as too limited an interpretation, R K Gupta in his article, The ‘Fortunate Fall’ in U R Anantha Murthy’s Samskara (International Fiction Review, 7 (1), 1980, pp. 20-28) suggests that the ‘moral and spiritual growth’ of the protagonist, the Brahmin Praneshacharya ‘through what might be called his "fortunate fall" defines the theme and controls the form’ of the novel. The critical event of the acharya’s ‘felix culpa’ is his encounter with Chandri, a woman of low caste that leaves him recognising that ‘he has lost his virtue. At the same time ... he has ... [a] sense of having attained ... not only physical and emotional fulfillment but also an increased moral awareness as well as a broadening and refining of his human perceptions.’ 

We offer that The Hunt, The Bangle and TheChameleon explores both the social themes of transition and modernity that occupy Professor Ananthamurthy, as well as the transformation of the individual, although here, the defining change in the protagonist, Krishnaswamy comes not from an encounter with sin, but rather with innocence.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Out of Print in Six Questions For ...

Out of Print editor Mira Brunner responds to the questions from the Six Questions For ... blog.

Find out what the top three things are that we look for in a submission, what the top three reasons are for rejecting a submission, and more about how the Out of Print editors think at Six Questions for Out of Print

Our thanks to Jim Harrington for keeping this wonderful project, this great resource for writers going.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Out of Print Author Series: Janice Pariat


We are proud that Janice Pariat’s Embassy, acutely centred in its setting, that appeared in the second release of Out of Print is included in her collection, Boats on Land published by Random House, India.

  
The blurb proclaims that the book is a unique way of looking at India’s northeast and its people against a larger historical canvas — the early days of the British Raj, the World Wars, conversions to Christianity, and the missionaries.

Janice creates a world in which the everyday is infused with folklore and a deep belief in the supernatural. Here, a girl dreams of being a firebird. An artist watches souls turn into trees. A man shape-shifts into a tiger. Another is bewitched by water fairies. Political struggles and social unrest interweave with fireside tales and age-old superstitions.

We asked Janice a couple of questions:

OofP: The stories in this collection are profoundly linked to place. However contemporary the piece, however universally accessible, your stories are woven into the North East, its culture and geography.  Were the stories written when you lived there? How is this connection to place affected by moving out of the region?
JP: Mostly here and there. A bulk of the stories in Shillong - where I had the space, time and quiet to work. The rest in London, where I was studying History of Art at SOAS.  I don't think the connection is in any way broken. I carry the places in my head - Shillong, Cherrapunjee and parts of Assam. They're ingrained in you, where you spend your years growing up. And that's part of the challenge (and fun), to re-imagine the places you love.  


OofP: Has any writer or work had a particular influence on you, and how?
So many. It's a long history of reading. Nabokov, for his ethereal prose, Virginia Woolf, for her lyricism. But if I had to pick one writer in particular, especially for Boats on Land, it would have to be Jeet Thayil. I read Narcopolis while working on the first edits of my stories - and his language is fearless. It quietened the tussle I felt between poetry and prose. 


Monday, July 9, 2012

The Sangam House Residency Programme

SangamHouse

The Sangam House applications close on July 31. 
Their residency offers a brilliant opportunity to writers from all over the world to live and work in an environment of creativity. 
As their website states:
The intention of Sangam House is to bring together writers from around the world to live and work in a safe, peaceful setting, a space made necessary on many levels by the world we now live in. 
Get your applications in on time: http://www.sangamhouse.org/the-application/


Out of Print Submissions


Out of Print is an online literary quarterly for short fiction with a connection to the Indian subcontinent.
We seek original writing in English or translated into English that is strong, well-crafted and reflects the pace and transition of our times. Based out of India, we are interested in submissions with a connection to the subcontinent from around the world. We encourage new writers and we encourage writing that tells a story.

No previously published work unless solicited

Word count between 1000 and 4000


Submissions to be cut and paste into the body of an email to outofprintmagazine@gmail.com 


Subject line should contain the word 'SUBMISSION' only


A cover letter with name, postal address, email address and telephone number

A short, approximately, 150 word biographical sketch


No attachments please.
Which means, of course, that all the material – story, cover letter, biographical sketch – to be included in the body of the email

One story at a time, please


Line spacing, 2, no special fonts


Simultaneous submissions are accepted - please inform us immediately upon acceptance elsewhere


No offensive, excessively violent or sexually explicit writing


On acceptance we may ask you to work with us on editing the story


Submissions all year round


We are a quarterly - we may take the entire three months before responding


Please wait one month after withdrawing or hearing from us about a submission that is in process before submitting again


If your work has been accepted, we probably won't publish another of your pieces in a consecutive issue


Copyright remains with the author. Out of Print has first electronic rights and e-archival rights. Should your piece be reprinted, we request the courtesy of an acknowledgement stating that the piece was first published in Out of Print with a link, if possible. Sending us a submission is tantamount to accepting this agreement.

No payment, unfortunately – we continue to seek sponsors.
In the mean time, we hope you will contribute to one of India's first online literary magazines dedicated to the short story.


For more on the kind of writing that interests us, and the reasons we may reject a submission, check Six Questions For Out of Print