The Editorial Team on behalf of The Bangalore Review wishes all its readers a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
I took a piss about a month ago and I remembered art. It was in a bar bathroom just north of Houston on Ave A….
Theodore Gabriel Watson awoke early on the day he was to unintentionally kill a fifteen-year-old white girl, feeling like a diseased mouse had crawled inside…
She laid there, in quiet repose, as though I might wake her from her slumber. All the energies in the world could perform no such…
I A mature, female spider needs to know how to make proper webs. But spider A was still struggling. First, she was reluctant to make…
The sand is wet
from the forgotten rain
that poured over the streets
and shop corners last night.
Somewhere in a town where time has died
and where the river does not speak,
I see you staring at the fishermen
Every month, The Reading Room showcases a short story, or excerpts of a book, from some of the greatest writers the world has ever seen.
Akshay Sreevatsa ponders over Christopher Hitchens and his book, Letters to a Young Contrarian
Atharva Panditon writes on Tor Ulven, the modernist Norwegian poet who has commanded respect and considerable influence over contemporary Norwegian poetry, and yet, hitherto remains largely unknown in English-language literature.
Ladies and gentlemen, Welcome to the opening night of Operap, the musical experiment. I am Coby Sunders, the producer of the show. I am also…
I was in love with a mythical creature for the longest time. I didn’t meet her by the sea; she wasn’t washed ashore by a…
The year after she left, my mother visited our house in San Diego only twice. The first time, she came with a U-haul truck and…
It was the day before Christmas in Calcutta. It was 1997, and the city, like its name, still retained much of its old world charm….