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Goodbye, Fall Sem



Between these breathless jumps and finding art in the art, the semester’s come to move on.

Breathless Jumps

Breathless is an experiment. Sad news is that there is no escaping that.

Konkana and Shutu

One night after a bit of drinking, all youngsters, Shutu’s cousins play a prank on him. A séance ensues. His reticent nature is tested. The cousins do not stop––they are having a careless fun. As is promised in the title, someone dies.

Did You See Capote?

Capote wants for Perry what the movie wants for Capote: “If I leave here without understanding you, the world will see you as a monster. I don’t want that.”  

Modern Ahalya

The tale is old. A modern spin, one might assume, would call for empathy for Ahalya. After all, she was tricked, and then cursed in spite of it. But that’s a story someone might choose to tell. Someone not Sujoy Ghosh. (Sujoy Ghosh has to his directorial credit: Kahaani, Kahaani 2, and Te3n.)

Pigeons Are Here

Pigeons are here. Thousands of them. In flight. Cooing. Carrying LED lights. Carrying whispered prayers. Yours, mine, ours.

Mother: Intense, not Mixed

Writers among us should aspire to create something intense and smart like that, so intense you don’t realize you missed the names until you’ve walked out and talked to a friend, tried to explain them a character’s motive, without getting around their name.

People, Places & Things, and Endings

It helps that as writers we aren’t powerless over people, places, and things, and how they end.

Don’t Ask, It’s Surreal

A lavish dinner party after an opera, company of other elites, and no one is able to just leave. Morning, then evening, then morning, then evening, so on. Elites have servants, but they’ve left. There’s no water, no food. But why? Don’t ask.

When You Meet Geet

Geet has never missed a train, or an opportunity to talk… Yeah, she misses the train just because she cannot let a fellow stranger miss the train; of course, that instantly upsets her, Aditya shouldn’t have done that––make her miss the train by missing the train himself! 

Thank You, Ms. Dickinson

Emily Dickinson is immortal, a sea. Her revolution: the quiet and the gushing of her poetry. She is one that could not be discouraged, not toward her poetry. Constantly flowing.

Masterpiece, or the Art in the Art

You say it’s a chair, I say it’s a chair. I say it’s a chair, people. People say it’s a chair then. Where is the art in that?

Where is the art in the art? Is it that art is in and of the art?


~ Hardik Yadav