Hiraeth is a sadness of the soul

In her beautiful work, “Marrying Winterborne” by Lisa Kleypas, we find these lines, which resonate with us most succinctly-


Rhys absorbed that with chagrin. "No one has ever accused me of being a romantic," he said ruefully.

"If you were, how would you propose?"

He thought for a moment. "I would begin by teaching you a Welsh word. Hiraeth There's no equivalent in English."

"Hiraeth," she repeated, trying to pronounce it with a tapped R, as he had.

"Aye. It's a longing for something that was lost, or never existed. You feel it for a person or a place, or a time in your life...it's a sadness of the soul. Hiraeth calls to a Welshman even when he's closest to happiness, reminding him that he's incomplete."

Her brow knit with concern. "Do you feel that way?"

"Since the day I was born." He looked down into her small, lovely face. "But not when I'm with you. That's why I want to marry you.”


We think that is what this word means for us, more or less. And with it, we proudly announce Literary Impulse’s “Hiraeth Anthology”, the first of the many. We thank the contributors who made it and the others who honored us with our pieces. “Hiraeth” as an emotion is very close to us. It stays with us in thick and thin. We feel pride in giving something back to it.


A few words about the contributors are as follows -


  • Radha Kapadia is an introvert who breathes through the rhythm of the words that she writes.

  • Sanka Rathnabarana is a writer, photographer, and aspiring non-fiction author. Writing philosophical short stories to seize the wonder of life and empower others.

  • Kim McKinney is from North Carolina and loves travel, hot air balloons, and a delightful story.

  • Gayle Kurtzer-Meyers , avid freelancer with multiple industry awards on a kaleidoscope of topics. Editor and top writer status on Medium. Shining light to lift others on their dream journey.

  • Aimée Gramblin, top writer on Medium, is a poet and essayist with a nature inspired memoir forthcoming.

  • Paroma Sen has been writing stories since she was a child. Technology marketing is how she earns a living, but she reserves a part of her heart for poetry and short stories. She's a Top Writer for poetry on Medium.

  • Rebecca is a researcher exploring the evolution of sociality and cognition. She works with corvids in the UK. In her spare time we can usually find her writing poetry, sea-swimming or curling up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book.


FIND THEIR BRILLIANT PIECES HERE.


We like to think that it was a joyful experiment. We got some fantastic entries; we read them carefully, judged them together, felt like choosing all of them, but only seven we had planned. We didn’t want to overdo. And we had to make some tough decisions. Only seven remained on paper, but in our hearts, all made a space.


We like to consider it an achievement.


Please keep a tab on our twitter [@LiteraryImpulse] account where we make most of our announcements. We might want to repeat a theme-based issue. But for now, submit for the upcoming December Issue.


Good things are on way. And even if they are not, we have to hope the same. Because that is the best we can do.


Happy Scribbling, LI Editorial



What is the role of an artist in a difficult time, when the museums and art galleries are closed and those cafés where they would find stories are empty? What is the duty of a poet when the muse is sad. How can they bring back that rainbow lost somewhere?

The more I read about artists and poets, I am intrigued by their life because they are not one. They carry the universe within. My words are also inspired by an essay about The Power and Responsibility of the Artist by Albert Camus where he says,

“But we the writers of the twentieth century, will no longer ever be alone. Quite the contrary: we must know that we cannot hide away from communal misery and that our sole justification, if one exists, is to speak out, as best we can, for those who cannot.”

I know I am not bold like him. My art is still not that free. Maybe one day I will see through the clouds and pluck those hidden stars. For now, I feel like being lost in those words.

Also sharing with you all stories written by the writers of Literary Impulse.

Poem The House that I Built by Unni Nambiar Poem Ghosts of My Past by Siva Raj Poem If I were but A Leaf by Iva Hotko



Dear Readers, It’s been a different summer for all of us this year. Memories, as usual, played hide and seek with me and I kept shuffling the pages. Sometimes it would be a story of cooking for the family in my mother’s kitchen, other time it would be glimpses about those Indian street food stalls in Delhi, where we sisters would go. I remember those late night book discussion with my sister over a glass of wine and those games which our kids played, which would be snippets of those old summer days for them in the time to come. Words help me walk away and there were many poems in which I trapped myself. For now I am back here with stories and poems for you to be lost. The world needs these borrowed colours to breathe.

Sharing with you all few stories and poems shared by writers here for the Friday edition. poem about Marcel Proust by Elisabeth Khan story Heartaches by Anindya Chandra poem Paper Mage by Eli Snow poem Lodging Services by Manasi Diwakar and to end we have poem Paris by Gaslight by Dionne Charlet