Tanuj Solanki responds to Amitava Kumar’s article, “The Shiver of the Real” from May 2014 issue of The Caravan
The thoughts of suicide cross my mind too often these days. In fact they began surfacing soon after your death, but I managed to thwart…
There is a red pen in her hand. The lights are still on as Elizabeth opens her eyes. Enough light to read under. Her face…
Professor George Wallace complained to everyone about teaching in the big lecture room in Gilman Hall. He wore a red cashmere scarf to class in…
I don’t like photos because they literally turn people into posers. When someone wants to take a picture, everyone stops what they are doing and…
I would have sat you down and explained, poured
you a mug of coffee and placed it on
that aqua-painted table we bought at
the thrift store that winter in Alaska
Bare every women and rip her on the streets,
And spare not even your mother, own
The pound for murder lingers no more,
Woman carrying basket of pineapple
Atop her head, hair like an Arabesque carpet
Woven with a million coarse black threads
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.