
We are asked to leave things to chance, but if the future
is really a slaughterhouse, then why not stake our territory?
Imagine saying to the tree: I’m cold and alone
and I need this small fire to burn.
Imagine the tree replying:
Come seedling, let’s dance.
— Tishani Doshi from poem Tigress Hugs Manchurian Fir
- When You Rise, Kiss The Tombstone Of Your Past
- But I Have My Life
- Never Feel Guilty For Starting Again
- The Impeded Stream Is The One That Sings
- You Only Got So Many Days
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