The sparrow on the window pane seemed to be the only commonality between the high rise and the slum, thought Manas in his air-conditioned chamber. He remembered that some fifteen years back, this high rise too was a flowing neat
Grief – A Short Story
The hour hand of the grey clock on the white wall was rushing every second. On one side, the forlorn newspaper was waiting for its daily ordeal, on the other, the medicine strip shouted effrontarily for discipline. Meera was cursing
Darkness – A Short Story
The 12th and 13th floors of ‘Sunlights’ used to be lit for the entire night. This opaque trend used to amuse both Meera and Krish alike. Both used to pity their fate of being alone, while envying the next door
Fenced – A Short Story
Manas would not witness the heaps of white paper flying across the fenced Desert Dunes on his routine trip. Yet, for some strange reason, this time he took out his Binoculars hurriedly, rattling the water bottle and story book in