Fiction



Caught in Your Eyes

- By Nisha Singh   01-09-2015

He is such a dear. He has looked after me and you just like his own family, Wasn’t he Nadira?” asked Mehru when she returned for lunch. Nadira was quiet. “What happened, my dear? Is everything all right?” “Yes, ammi.” “I was

The Gadget-Free House

- By Sharada Sivaram   17-08-2015

Mahesh trembled as he read the letter. It was written in the untidy hand that was unmistakably Sudha’s. Brief and concise. It read, “I am feeling rather stifled living in a house with more gadgets than human beings. So, I am going out to live among my

Farewell, My Blue Friend

- By Sarada Tata   17-08-2015

Mummy, after all, it’s only a sari! I will get you another one – more beautiful and more expensive. Stop kicking up such a fuss about it!” said my daughter. It was “just a sari” for her. In fact, it was just that for the

Caught in Your Eyes

- By Nisha Singh   17-08-2015

The area only looked a vast stretch of sand- engorged mountainous terrain with shrubs strewn all across the rocky place. This terrain looked quite peaceful and at rest with the wind occasionally brushing against the low height, scanty-leafed barbed plants. Civilisation was not discernible but whether it was just inconspicuous,

The Story of Shamli and Maili

- By Sreemati Sen Karmakar   04-08-2015

It was one of those typical hot summer days when nothing makes sense. There was no respite from the scorching heat. Even the shade of the peepal tree seemed inadequate. Shamli finally decides to sit down and take a break. She has been working in the fields since morning. Even

The One-rupee Coin

- By Prasupta Roy   04-08-2015

With the monsoon creeping in, the summer had lost its glory. Days became cool and nights chilled in Jorhat, a small town in Assam. The continuous rain for the last seven days had overflooded the ponds nearby and roads floated with knee-deep water. Schools and colleges declared holidays as their

A Warm Coat

- By Amit Khan   04-08-2015

I have decided to run away from home. My decision is final and I am firm on it. I am never going to turn and look back at my home ever again. I am Harilal, sorry, sorry! I am ‘Harry’ and I am telling you my story. It

The Visiting Card

- By Jyothi Vinod   31-07-2015

Oh, I had to stop peering through the eye hole. Twice I had seen him walk past our door in his hideous yellow pyjamas. I checked and re-checked the bolts, drew the curtains, and towards midnight dragged the dining table against the main door. I wished again that Arun had

The Night She Eloped

- By Subha Sunny   31-07-2015

She looked at her watch – 6.40 pm. It was time for the Rajadhani Express to leave Secunderabad Central Station. The train would be leaving for Bengaluru in 10 minutes. Passengers were coming in with hurried steps. Some were already seated cosily while others were trying to find their respective seat numbers.

The hunter and the hunted

- By Geeta Kashyap   31-07-2015

A volley of words was exchanged between the Joshis and the Desais. All the neighbours gathered. October heat and sweat did not matter to them. Were they bothered? No, not at all, they were rather amused! During such fights generally bystanders get to hear many hitherto unheard stories and accusations,