Drab. Dreary. Soulless. The Western Express Highway. Greyer than the monsoon sky. Why is it named ‘highway’? There’s nothing high...
short fiction
“The Sparrow” She flew to a neem tree and settled on its tender branch. Immediately she began preening her tiny...
Yogyakarta, Indonesia The warung was in the southern side of Yogyakarta, where the city met the southbound highway, far from...
I When Deborah died, she left her five precious possessions with me. Four cats and a boxful of prayer beads...
In the summer of 1994, Ganeshan married Meher in court. Garlands made of a single string of jasmine hung around...
Piyali had long pictured herself to be draped in a blue benarasi silk on her wedding reception. Ever since she...
Ghazali craved to see his wife's calm face and his son's youthful gaze again before he was finally awake. The...
The faces, hair, and bodies in the humid metro train capsule are all a blur. But Arijit is here somewhere,...
Winter had worn off like an old sock, and an urgent, prickly summer under the garb of spring had creeped...
“Elephant!” Gautam shrieked, raising his voice by a few decibels, stretching his seven-year vocal cords to the maximum they could...
