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
Vacation for Mango Tree – A Short Story
Yagyesh lazed his hands to the photo frame that glazed off the bright ‘Indian Summer’ afternoon. The glass, the frame, the room was part of his abode, where he breathes and lives everyday, yet today the Sun was avenging its