Nothing • Something • Anything


Welcome to Humane.

Here I am!

Jayant Kashyap, merely yet in my teens, a budding poet and voracious reader.
Where my reading (literary works) began late (as compared to my metropolitan-counterparts), I began writing poems “early in 2013 (or in the later parts of 2012, probably),” though I can only state it ambiguously.
Merely any of my poems are known to revolve around my homeland (though I may get to have one in mind soon), than they do with the conditions of body and soul.
My poems have been featured earlier on a few known websites, and here’s my blog (with links to those sites, as of now).
An admirer of stark literary expressions.
A lover of gothic architecture.
A young critic, reviewer, and activist.

You can find me on:

Facebooktwitter and Instagram (as of now, indeed!)

Please proceed, and read my articles, poems, and whatsoever, for your appreciation will always mean so much.

Jayant Kashyap



Rehman Faris, on Zainab

“ख़बर में क्यों तस्वीर फ़ख्त ज़ैनाब की है,
कचरे में जो लाश मिली, हम सब की है ।”
~ रहमान फ़ारिस

“Why is it only hers the face that made to the journals?
The decay that was found dumped, is us.”
~ Rehman Faris;
translator: Jayant Kashyap

PS: Thankful to Muneeba Gul, for sharing this.


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