The Creative Section (Vol. 5, No. 1) is on its way and will be published by the end of May, 2024.





-       P C K Prem (India)

Home is a philosophy of heritage

I still count each mud block,

in an age of red bricks

that boast of richness and inflate ego.

I do not know why I do it but it gives pleasure

I fail to explain.

Past is inscrutable and pleasant

but still I do not love,

it sends you to unsophisticated life

rural is a gentle thought of a tribal instinct,

only elites want to revivify,

to perpetuate love,

for nature, poor peasants and the dalits,

love that exists nowhere

and yet it fills documents of history,

and I sit, shuffle pages

and feel images rising high

and so home is a heritage,

I tell everyone.

Home is an experience, a feeling

and when you move in the hallways of past,

it resurrects and takes you back

to verdant fields,

grasslands and little valleys.

You look up, and mountain of the north beckon

it looks after river,

every stream, plant and tree as if.


I stand in the vast half-harvested fields

with a sickle,

a shovel and a bamboo basket,

a momentary thought

a past truth, a naughty smile with a lie,

a quick act and I see, I run down

to a water spring,

to play with village girls and boys

that was history of joy and innocence

I write.