Michelle (named after the character from FullHouse) was born in 1991 in Bahrain- a small island country in the Gulf. She is of Indian origin. Reading The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri during her school days made her want to write. She studied at The Indian School (Bahrain), Mount Carmel College (Bangalore) and Christ University (Bangalore).
She is the founding editor of Kaani. She has previously edited at Decades Review and Jaggery Literary Magazine.
Her poems are forthcoming in Guftugu and The Bangalore Review. They have been published in The Bombay Literary Magazine, Visual Verse, The Madras Courier, Sunflower Collective, Cafe Dissensus, Big River Poetry Review, Antiserious, 40 under 40- An anthology of post-globalisation poetry, The Brown Boat (Raed Leaf Poetry India) among others. Her poems were longlisted for the RL Poetry Award 2017.
Her fiction has appeared in Coldnoon, The Madras Mag, The Bombay Literary Magazine, Open Road Review, Eunoia Review, Aainanagar, Kitaab, The Bombay Review, Lakeview Journal of Literature and Arts among others. Her stories have been shortlisted/longlisted for The Open Road Review short fiction contest (2015) and The Out of Print- DNA short fiction contest (2015, 2016 and 2017).
She frequently interviews writers. Some interviews stay on this blog, some reside in literary magazines.
Interviewed writers’ names below:
Rheea Mukherjee, Janice Pariat, Sharanya Manivannan, Anjum Hasan, Tejaswini Apte-Rahm, Deepti Kapoor, Rebecca Lloyd, Tishani Doshi, Sumana Roy, Darlene Campos and Sohini Basak.
Tendai Huchu, Tanuj Solanki, Mohit Parikh, Kaushik Barua, Manu Bhattathiri, Hansda Sovwendra Shekhar, Chandramohan S, Deepak Unnikrishnan and Prayaag Akbar.
Some of these writers have won/been nominated for prestigious literary awards like the Man Asian Literary Prize, the DSC Prize for South Asian Literature, The Hindu Prize, International Dublin Literary Award, Sahitya Akademi Yuva Puraskar, TOTO award for creative writing, Shakti Bhatt First Book Prize, Tata Lit Live! First Book Award (Fiction), Srinivas Rayaprol Poetry Prize, Eric Gregory Award, The Orange Prize, Crossword Book Award for fiction etc.
She conducted a Creative Writing Workshop in Atta Galatta, Bangalore. She was a featured poet at Tuesdays with the Bard, Urban Solace Cafe, Bangalore.
Comments from writers on her prose/poetry:
About her story ‘The Muse‘:
‘Congratulations on getting this story published. It’s really dope and has elements from one of your stories which I beta-read in the past. This flows nicely and your showing, rather than telling, makes it an enjoyable read for the the reader because there is something at stake. The characters also come to life and pop off the page.
– Tendai Huchu, Author of The Hairdresser of Harare (Among others)
About her story ‘Silence‘:
‘Very moving story. Honest and bold. Carefully woven with minute details. Congratulations. I started reading and could not stop. Very well written. It is balanced and does not cross the limits anywhere. There were moments when I felt it was going in a certain known direction but it stopped just short of it. It is not judgmental about any characters. This is the strength of the story. It has happened because the writer is very honest. Every character has got her/his space. Enough to live as they please.’
– Vivek Shanbhag, Author of Ghachar Ghochar (Among others)
‘I just read your story. Made me cry. So much honesty there. Lovely work!’
– Roanna Gonsalves, Author of The Permanent Resident
‘ Read it. And liked it a lot. Very poetic.’
– Anees Salim, Author of The Small-Town Sea (Among others)
About her poem ‘Ambition‘:
‘I actually loved the fact that it defied the norm , or required us to defy the norm of reading in a linear manner. So, what happens is that first, one reads it in order of numbering–and it gradually becomes sinister, ending in that image of the people seeming like crows. Well, the thing is, I see the poem as an object, so its possibilities expand when I look at it counterclockwise, as opposed to the usual.
Now, when I read it top to bottom, the implicit violence–the way the body/bodies are fading–eyeballs, jaundiced eyes, coals (which again reminds us of eyes, mouths, the taste buds–there’s that same kind of breaking down of the body into bits but the implied violence, afflicted by hunger–that really was magnified, when the poem ended with “sedated” because it seemed as if sedation (as in fulfilment v/s numbness) was being called into question. I like that. It’s not over the top. :)’
– Ranjani Murali, Author of Blind Screens
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