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Greek Mythology in the Spotlight: Circe by Madeline Miller, A Book Review
‘Humbling women seems to me a chief pastime of poets. As if there can be no story unless we crawl and weep.’ In her novel Circe, nominated this year for the Women’s Prize for Fiction, Miller takes this premise and goes on to tackle the oft-discussed issue of perception and marginalization by redeeming the enchantress…
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Indie Review: In the Sun by Mixie Plum
In her beautifully written novella, strewn with numerous references to literature, music, and pop culture that allow readers to immerse themselves into the protagonist’s universe, the author Mixie Plum takes her readers on an emotional roller coaster, from laugh-out-loud highs to heart-rending lows. When Phoebe, Plum’s witty protagonist, receives dreadful news, she tries coping with…
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The Hurricane
In the eye of the hurricane, of clamour and clangour, of deafening din, we stare into the distance and try to find a focus,a convergence, for our ruthless ruminations to make the internal voices, shouts, screams, and whispers less potent and oppressive, quieter and more distant. Yet they seem to persist rather than perish, sturdy…
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the Wind
the Wind is back with her willowy fingers and her icy breath she’s stroking the hair scratching the cheeks rustling the leaves like the pages of an oft-read book she’s stirring the smells in her grey cauldron summoning the memories of all the Windslong blown by she’s fanning the fire drying the polish on her…
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The Wait
My time drips to the floor Vanishes in the cracks Drunk by the thirsty wood Like water from a capsized glass Leaving me unquenched Letting the canyons on my face run dry As I wait for the world, the people, the life To do what they promised And I turn to stone Then to dust…
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Zmey, the Slavic Dragon
The day was still. The lake, as sleek as a crisp sheet of glass, mirrored the clear skies and the pointy tips of the surrounding pine trees. The sun was moving westwards and the crickets’ subtle melody bounced off of the smooth surface. Then, it happened. First, the bubbles shattered the glass to reunite with…
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Morana: Slavic Winter Witch
The snow was thawing. Icy drops fell from the trees, like heavy, grief-laden tears, and formed muddy rivulets that snaked downhill and into the overflowing village brook. Morana stood beside the brook, leaning against a tree stump that jutted like a broken tooth from the wet soil. It used to be an apple tree, but…
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Slavic God Veles: the Trickster
Veles leaned against the gates of Iriy. His gaze rested on the retreating forms of Lada and Gerovit. A bird landed on one of his horns and started chirping a merry melody, but he grunted and waved it away. The story repeated every spring; after months spent in Iriy, he watched her golden hair flutter…
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Lada: Slavic Goddess of Love and Harmony
It had been a long winter and Lada was tired of staying in Iriy, the heavenly world of the dead, where she had to reside until the summer came. Veles, the ruler of forests and her companion in Iriy, had tried to entertain her, but there was a limit to the number of shapeshifting tricks…
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Beneath the Surface
I’ve devoted last couple of weeks to finalising my poetry collection titled Beneath the Surface. Some of these poems are new, some I have carried around in various notebooks and crumpled bits of paper for years, now it’s time for them to to get their well-deserved collection. Today, we’re working on some of the illustrations,…
Myths & Stories 