Paridhi Agarwal

Ghost writer

April 17, 2015

I. I was born when you were born, skin to skin – embraced you like a long lost friend – stayed – with you, born with the brown skin of an old woman, thin and translucent to the touch, became a second skin for you, a little taller, my feet stifled underneath yours, became for you a cradle against … Read More

A Ghazal of Eyes

April 10, 2015

At my spine is a harbour for a fear of eyes: the eyes that want to know me and your eyes. Yours want me wanting and known. I think of floods daily. They rarely close, your eyes. You asked if I was scared of being known, the dip of eyelashes on all-seeing eyes. I hid a small … Read More

dystopias of light

March 20, 2015

I. I had to build a house for light, to accommodate it: windows there, a hearth here, lamps above. I built a house for light to haunt. II. Fair is lovely. Dark is a face upturned to the light becoming bowed. Fair is lovely. III. This is the way infidels are made. You didn’t look away, full of faith. The gods turned … Read More