By Revathi Ganeshsundaram
My brother and I grew up on the campus of the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore as my father was an academic there from the mid-1960s until his retirement in the late 1980s. Those were undoubtedly the happiest years of my life, not the least because of the quiet and semi-wild surroundings of the house in which we lived.
A short story from Myanmar by San Lin Tun
Roughcut Bar, Myanmar;Photocredit: Roughcut Bar FaceBook page
Roughcut Bar; Photocredit: Roughcut Bar FaceBook page
Moe did not know what he could do while he sat in his chair and his mind drifted like a kite floating with the free flow of wind. Something dampened his strength and he felt frayed. He had been feeling this way for a couple of days. It started gradually till it took concrete shape in his mind, tending to block his mental processes. That is why he could not focus on his job. He decided to try to deal with it…
Though he felt it, he could not name the sensation. He picked up the pen from the rectangular lacquer pen holder in front of him on the table, unconsciously. He did not intend to use the pen but his laptop. He sighed at his confusion and looked at his watch — fifteen past four in the afternoon. He stood up, pushed his laptop away and picked up his shoulder bag that lay in a slant against the foot of the table.
(From The Atlantic. Link to the complete article given below) When I return to my parents’ house and […]