“Do you want to play with us?” He looked at them warily. He was used to being ignored. This was...
The Best Asian Speculative Fiction
Maharathi Debdutt saw the hennaed foot, dainty, as the passenger stepped off the palanquin. Then the wheel went over it....
The sulphur gas hissed and smoke was issuing every few metres from the porous rocks. The clouds churned in the...
They said the fog was made of the tears of the old soldiers, those who left the town to make...
When she walked into the room, every eye in that place rested on her, as though she was a magnet...
Translated by Abhisek Sarkar Chhabi has expired. Chhabila died close to day break. She had been choked to death. Her...
The man trudged up the red mud lane carrying a rucksack on his back and a tin trunk in one...
Gopuji tore away the blanket. His shirt was drenched in sweat. He dragged himself out of bed. When he foamed...
The only thing I could do for him was take his picture. So I heaved my DSLR up—it had to...
Irati had green fingers. A darker green than most gardeners’ fingers. She could twist and fix and grow and stunt....
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