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I place an empty pot on my slim waist and swiftly get out of the house. Dawn has just begun to crack and the road outside is silent. Some street dogs lie fast asleep on the paved roads. I wa


My parents did not know that something had been bothering me since I was seven, that my childhood was snatched away from me at an age when my friends were free like birds. But I was caged in


I missed my mother terribly and wept silently under the blanket at night. But I got used to the place after a month, and soon I was busy with friends. After four months, she came for a visit

Half brothers

While I was spending a great portion of my family fortune, my half brother had earned a sizeable fortune himself. The bastard’s wealth was mocking my noble blood, and finally it was intolera

Load-shedding Love

One day, inside of the living soul of blackness, I found someone like me; a victim of load shedding and a lover of darkness. We lived about 30 metres away from each other

Fake tales of San Francisco

And that’s the light water we tread when talking about the future. The ‘future’: such a dirty word, don’t you think? At times like these I just like to sit back and listen to the words being

Sheer imagination

I was very lonely, deeply wounded and exhausted and so I wanted a moment of silence. But still, I couldn’t completely figure out whether I wanted to hear him or shut him down, because ...


Kishore’s father, Mr Keshab Sharma, was always hard on him. Ever since his early school days, his father had always expected him to perform very well academically. But Mr Sharma’s overbearin

Secret, sacred silence

I feel different now. I don’t want to play with her wrinkles now. What a lovely feeling it is to be a woman. And to be a bride tomorrow? I will be throwing all the stones in the river; I wil

Ashes to ashes

So there I was, between a rock and a hard place, I believe, as the saying goes. Now any smart, sour chap would go straight to his parents for help, but me, well I ain’t sour and definitely a

I see myself in you

After thinking about it for a long time, I was at a standstill, questioning myself if it would be an appropriate idea to write a story even without knowing how it all started.

The Lady of the Flowers

That night I dreamed of the lady in white. The lady of the flowers. Cigarette in one hand, a lyre in the other. She offered it to me. Said, come with me. Leave this place. We can find ...

The baton swinger

We started playing the composition right from the start. The violin players played their notes, coordinating with the movement of Tilak ji’s hand, and they went along well. But again, one of

The leftover jalebis

Munna may not even know the difference between a father and a grandfather, for he doesn’t remember his father. Munna was just six months old when his father left

2500 AD

It had become my daily routine to pick a rose from my garden full of genetically engineered flowers and move around the city in search of my lady love. But even after a year of searching, I