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
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
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
Inside, waves after waves of humans, all in shackles, moved round and round and round big hillocks formed out of what looked like calcified remains of huge piles of debris, the kind that one
He would have gone to the doctor that very moment had he not been playing that night. But he was the only harmonium player they had, and he could never refuse playing for them, for the Godde
What difference was there for her then? She had been ‘serving’ her partner all those years just like she was serving now—only the names given to the same task were different
Samar went slowly, counting his steps, towards the statue. As Ram had predicted, there were a few coins lying around the statue. Samar was terribly scared. But he knelt down in front of the
Maybe, I thought, he would look at them and wonder about the invisible paths up in the air that would take him to the lush green, to the valleys where he walked up and down all the time. He
Things went from bad to worse as Dhanmaya resorted to silence after that day. She only spoke when spoken to, and that too very little. A forlorn expression made a permanent fixture on her fa
She was, it turned out, a diligent student of art. After that initial meeting, my friendship with her started to deepen. Within a short span, we started to become very close. Our chats and m
After returning from Al Ismailia for the first time, the only face that I could remember was yours. I remembered you not because you were the most beautiful amongst the Al Ismailia girls. I
He had a favourite chair, the one made of bamboo cane, where he used to sit whenever he wanted me to listen to his stories.
Keshav’s ethics made him despise the job. He hated it from the core of his heart and was angry that corruption had pervaded each and every corner of the office
Sonia: It was a rebuttal to your sucky sarcasm, which reminds me of The Importance of Being Earnest, one of the wittiest plays I have ever read. I also recommend Catcher in the Rye...
I am just thinking some random thoughts, and these thoughts might not be very appealing to the viewers or readers. You know what they tell you in Painter Uncle’s rule book—that your art must