Museum of Futures
A schoolchild presses her face
against the glass case
where a fossilized plastic bottle
is labeled “early 21st century.”
The guide says
“people carried their thirst
inside containers they never killed,”
as if thirst were a pet
waiting for release.
Everyone nods
.No one mentions
the sea still coughing
in another wing.
After the Flood
Fish swam into living rooms,
silver question marks
on linoleum floors.
A woman in a sari
scooped them with her palms,
carried them
like forgotten jewelry
back to the swollen river.
Later she found her wedding album
floating face-down—
the ink unstitched,
the smiles wandering
to some other shore.
Midnight Algorithms
The streetlight flickers
like an old prophet
unsure of his vision.
Inside,
a boy scrolls at 3 a.m.,
his face baptized
in blue notifications.
The algorithm whispers:
you are lonely, you are prey,
then gifts him
a video of someone dancing
in a country he’ll never visit.
Outside,
dogs howl at the empty road,
practicing
for a moon
they’ve not seen in weeks.
Pravy Jha is a writer and poet based in India. Her work explores the intersections of environment, technology, memory, and the shifting landscapes of modern life. With a keen interest in how everydayexperiences reveal larger social and ecological truths, she writes poetry that moves between the personal and the political, the intimate and the collective. When not writing, she enjoys reading across genres, observing cityscapes, and nurturing small green corners.