Granta | The Magazine of New Writing

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Look Out, Narendran!

Subha

A madman is dead set on blowing up the Taj Mahal, and there’s only one pair of detectives who can stop him. Tamil Pulp Fiction at its best.

Numb

Lauren Schenkman

‘She felt things under the skin: scars where the body had torn during childbirth, clumps of cellulite, lobules and ducts.’

Performance Art

Manjula Padmanabhan

‘A single pod of cardamom! Was that enough? To flavour an entire life’s pot of time?’

The Buddhist

Alan Rossi

‘Loneliness is the extra, the part that’s unnecessary.’

The Middle Ages: Approaching the Question of a Terminal Date

David Szalay

‘What is left? What is he to wrap himself in, now that everything has floated off into space?’

To Rio de Janeiro

Gonçalo M. Tavares

‘In the end, what one understands in Rio de Janeiro is that joy is the only coherence of a living being.’

To Zagreb

Yoko Tawada

‘You didn’t know where you wanted to end up, had never considered how much time you had left.’

We Were Holy Once

Amber Sparks

‘We see things most folks can’t.’