The Coil

The Coil is an independent literary magazine by the Alternating Current Press. Here are some of the reviews and interviews I did for them.

Lady Aviators in the Men’s Club

A review of 'Fly Girls' in which Keith O’Brien tells the untold story of five women who dared compete against the men in the high-stakes air races of the 1920s and ’30s.

Defying the Odds

An interview with Keith O'Brien the author of 'Fly Girls' about his writing process, routine, research for the book, and its modern relevancy.

Searing Commentary on Society

A review of 'White Dancing Elephants'. On Chaya Bhuvaneswar’s stories which explore the power dynamics of assault, queer relationships, sexism, racism, and societal structures.

Messes & Ambiguities

In conversation with Dev Jannerson, the poet and novelist on their book 'Thanks for Nothing'. 

On Anna Prushinskaya’s Essays

A review of Prushinskaya’s essays on a woman’s flight through childbearing. 

Teen Belle Magazine

Teen Belle Magazine was introduced to the world in 2019 with the aim, "flourish, educate, and rebel".  A volunteer-based magazine. It was founded by Sam, one of the best poets I knew and the nicest person to work with. 

Here are the articles I wrote for them. 

A Mirror in a Doll's House

A review of A Doll’s House, a three-act play by Henrik Ibsen. Published in 1879, at a time when the first wave of feminism was hitting the shore, the Norwegian playwright’s work brought about extensive debates about ‘The Woman Question’. 

Ghosts in the Archives

Exploring the 'male as norm' principle and the erasure of women in history. A brief exploration of the Matilda Effect. 

Women in Blue

A brief history of women's cricket in India.

Women Led Movements : The Spirit Comes Naturally

Protests and strikes led by women along with how their rebellion interacts with patriarchy.

Marble and Pedestals: Of Accountability and Symbolism

The toppling of statues that 2020 saw, the symbolism of demolition and accountability in history. 

w i t c h e s

every neighbourhood houses witches

the last brick house down the lane

wild women with unruly hair

looking out of their windowpane

sharp dagger-like tongues

cutting curses deep in your skin

stay away, you warn little children

and whisper to your next of kin

tornadoes decorate the corners of their house

swirling dark clouds of anger and cries

they'll fight you on rent

the air chilly in their vents

cracks in the elevator shaft

leaking wisps of strength, adding on weights you could never hope to lift

raging thunderclaps sound

when you smoothly ask for the ring to be passed

to the man of the house

in whose blood you think these women are doused

they don't attend your fairs

or your warm bonfires

maybe because they're afraid you'll burn them on the pyre

finally a neighbourhood

where no witches are alive

though i hear their voices

in my own exasperated sighs

i look in the mirror

to find, the witch that was cursed 

now resides inside

the brick melted into smooth blinding silver

like a lake of my 'sins' 

stay away, you warn little children

and whisper to your next of kin