In the spirit of generosity-.
By Samridhi Bhardwaj.
“My mother found me that morning. Pale, wan— lifeless. / stripped me barren. / washed me with icy water. / dried me with an old cloth.“
Under the Influence by Htet T San.
On your wings I saw the ghosts of a sky burial
It was mine, I was dead.
My mother found me that morning. Pale, wan— lifeless.
stripped me barren.
washed me with icy water.
dried me with an old cloth.
Broke my bones.
One.
Two.
All.
She laughed as she broke them, my aunts joined her.
Hack. Cackle. Hack.
A pack of hyenas preparing a body for your pleasure.
They barked about the lack of you as they struggled with my femur. She was working up a sweat now— salt dripped on me, well-seasoned.
‘In the spirit of generosity—’ they left my body in the field, it was facedown.
I only felt the thumps of the dance as they coaxed you to eat my decomposing cadaver
My teeth rattled— it was a cold day.
I held my breath even though there was none.
I waited for you.
You waited for us too.
The wind murmured, bad karma.
They left me and the six other cadavers.
How unfortunate to be left facedown, chained to an earthy vessel so tainted that it wouldn’t even decompose.
You freed me in the 11th hour.
Stole my soul from under my broken ribs.
But you didn’t eat
You soared higher. I saw the site disappearing,
S
E N bodies in a circle— all untouched, all broken.
V E
The Blood Pudding – August 17, 2026
Samridhi Bhardwaj is a writer based in India. Her work engages with grief, care, and the entanglement of body, language, and place, often through hybrid and experimental forms.
Artwork: Htet T San was born in Dawei, a small town in the southern part of Burma, and grew up in the old capital city, Yangon. Htet relocated to New York City in early 2011 and currently pursuing further studies while working as a conceptual artist/ photographer and retoucher. You can find more about her here.