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The Bangalore Review

The Bangalore Review

Vol. XIII | Issue 3 | October 2025

  • Non-Fiction
    • Art
    • Book Reviews
    • Cinema
    • Creative Non-Fiction
    • Culture
    • Literature
    • Memoirs
    • Music
    • Nature & Environment
    • Philosophy
  • Specials
    • Editorial
    • TBR Recommends
    • TBR Roundtable
    • Translations
    • Fiction Special 2024
      • Peripheries – of Being and Living
      • Promises Made and Promises Broken – the NATURE of Things
      • Writing From the Peripheries of Language
      • Queering Language
      • Anthologies – The Editorial Perspective
  • Fiction
    • Flash Fiction
    • Short Fiction
  • Poetry
B
Categories
  • Book Reviews
  • Non-Fiction
October, 2022

Black Metamorphoses by Shanta Lee Gander

Jon Lawrence reviews Shanta Lee Gander's poetry collection, Black Metamorphoses.
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S
Categories
  • Poetry
October, 2022

Sometimes, in the mirror

I say it again and again and again until my fingers turn red against the sink. Because I can’t remember my body the last time it was mine.
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W
Categories
  • Poetry
October, 2022

We’re Born as Frost

What a miracle, We're taught The barbed wire fences, Are to be finally taken off Mottos of life, history of people Worthy Stories, worthy Men Women, are to be taken care of We're taught The summer precedes autumn Autumn precedes winters
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A
Categories
  • Creative Non-Fiction
  • Non-Fiction
October, 2022

Almost Matilda

Having read Dahl's Matilda at 11 herself and then experiencing multiple cultures; the author goes through one end of the spectrum of not reading to the other end of the spectrum of becoming a bibliophile.
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B
Categories
  • Fiction
  • Short Fiction
October, 2022

Blue Horizon

All they could see was the long lay of ocean blue; a spotless, looming sky; the sun, and the gliding form of seabirds: shearwaters and petrels and other gull-type aviators, tiny white citizens of the bleak and luminous desolation. Beautiful, Humbert thought. If it were not for doom, it would be beautiful.
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G
Categories
  • Poetry
October, 2022

Glimpses of You

In my dream, you ride your bike up the road and I wave goodbye. It’s okay. Everything is okay. I can let go now. But in my dream—now my nightmare—you never come back.
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T
Categories
  • Fiction
  • Short Fiction
October, 2022

The Burning of Elenore Kuntz

My mother made me take piano lessons from Pastor James’ wife, Belinda, on Sundays. She was nice enough and always smelled of perfume. She’d hug me, give me a sugar cookie, and we’d get to business. I knew very early on in my piano-lesson days that I lacked discipline for such practices.
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S
Categories
  • Poetry
October, 2022

Street Cleaning

Each sweep of his diligence hails you though & now you’d bet he’s underpaid & the sun’s enlightened all things & you’re the street, slowly redeemed of debris.
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S
Categories
  • Fiction
  • Short Fiction
October, 2022

Sundowning

As he settles in, Olivia and Logan catch up about their weekends, both of which involved all things spooky. One of the best parts of autumn is Halloween, and it’s probably only natural that those who work in the funeral industry have some kind of affinity towards the holiday. Every department decorates the parts of the offices the guests can’t see.
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T
Categories
  • Creative Non-Fiction
  • Non-Fiction
October, 2022

The Heart is a City

The author's experience of living in a new city is marred and streaked by the effect the city has on her, mentally as well as physically. She traverses the divide as best as she possibly can and finds herself short of being understood.
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C
Categories
  • Fiction
  • Short Fiction
October, 2022

Catfish Funeral

I couldn't fathom Dad telling Poppy something he hadn't told me: he was the only relationship in my life built entirely on honesty. He was the one who had encouraged me to travel and live somewhere new while I was young; he was the person I called when I needed help with my taxes or choosing a 401K plan.
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M
Categories
  • Poetry
October, 2022

My Mother’s Kitchen

Mom's yelling about my sister's cigarettes, boyfriends and beer again. My mom Smokes Kools and always has a can of Blatz nearby.
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T
Categories
  • Specials
  • TBR Recommends
September, 2022

TBR Recommends – September 2022

Every month, The Bangalore Review recommends a reading list, also mentioning in brief why each book must be read. This month’s list has been compiled by the award winning Photographer and Barrister, Suchitra Vijayan.
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Q
Categories
  • Specials
  • Translations
September, 2022

Quarantine by Rajinder Singh Bedi

C. Christine Fair, a professor in Georgetown University’s Security Studies Program within the School of Foreign Service, translates Rajinder Singh Bedi's timeless short story, Quarantine.
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C
Categories
  • Specials
  • Translations
September, 2022

Coffee House – The Leitmotif of Kolkata by Prabal Kumar Basu

Armaan Singh translates, from Bangla, an essay by poet Prabal Kumar Basu.
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B
Categories
  • Book Reviews
  • Non-Fiction
September, 2022

Birds of the Snows by Tarannum Riyaz

Sucharita Dutta-Asane reviews Tarannum Riyaz's novel, Birds of Snows.
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F
Categories
  • Fiction
  • Short Fiction
September, 2022

Ford Man

“Need some help?” “No, I don’t need your goddamn help, and yes, I took my medication today, thank you very much Nurse Hobson. Go have a seat in the family room. I’ll be in in a minute.” “It’s not a sin to ask for help, you know.”
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W
Categories
  • Creative Non-Fiction
  • Non-Fiction
September, 2022

Why I Grew Up Wishing My Mother Were Dead

The author undertakes an uncomfortable journey of acceptance and tells a tale of a tumultuous relationship she shares with her mother.
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M
Categories
  • Fiction
  • Flash Fiction
September, 2022

Moondredge

Mother’s hands hide her face. Her mother, with her arm around her, repeats the same sentence over and over. The television blares, reporters reporting the rig was aflame, exploded, and sunk. They say they’re all gone. No survivors. They say it over and over.
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3
Categories
  • Poetry
September, 2022

3 poems by Xueyan

You empty my cup By filling Hers
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I
Categories
  • Fiction
  • Flash Fiction
September, 2022

Insides and Outsides

The next day, I asked her what she meant. She stooped down, and I felt the warm air leave her lungs in a soft wind. “Sometimes when our insides don’t match our outsides, our bodies become prisons. When that happens, we become sad. My insides don’t match my outsides, love.”
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C
Categories
  • Poetry
September, 2022

Caesar’s Ghosts

No wonder, you who know history, read portents, now sleep uneasily, blades wrapped in raw leather tucked beneath your pillows. Morning lines at the whetstone, coffee and small chatter, conspiratorial whispers, a dime’s blot of oil, grinding steel on stone—
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The Bangalore Review
Vol. XIII | Issue 4 | December 2025

ISSN 2770-0828

Published online every month by Spanning Minds, Inc.

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