#BetterDemocracy-Devjani
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#BetterDemocracy: Do we really deserve a better democracy?

“Democracy: Form of government, where a constitution guarantees basic personal and political rights, fair and free elections, and independent courts of law.” Dear Indian, Do we really deserve a better democracy? Do we actually have a democracy? Do we deserve a democracy at all? I ask this, because it seems that ever since we were left to govern ourselves, we’ve really messed up. Yes, India is a fairly new democracy. It’s only, what? Nearly 70

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Fiction Short Story Top

The Ring

I found a ring on the floor, the other day: a glint, a wink that caught the sunlight every time I moved my head. No one noticed me as I stood. No one looked over as picked it up. It must have been expensive; a solid gold band, with a thin wire of silver wrapped around like the delicate silk from a spider’s web. It weighed more than I expected it to and as I

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Fiction Short Story Top

Dirty Dishes – ii

Read the first part here She left the computer screen. She looked at the sink again. They could wait until she got back. The dishes weren’t going anywhere. She needed to get out though. She felt so much better after her shower. She took her time, styled her hair, plucked her eyebrows, applied some lipstick. She was OK. They were OK, they’d get through this because they were bigger than this. They had a lot of love

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Fiction Short Story Top

Dirty Dishes – i

Daily routines were causing him to grind his teeth in the night. Her smiles seemed inane. What on Earth was there to smile about? They were scraping by, at best. There was a baby on the way, there was a mortgage to cover and she had just stopped work. Just stopped! So no benefits, no maternity leave, no money. His job certainly didn’t cover it. They always talked about starting a family, but that was

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Life Love Marriage Short Story Top

The coracle and the anchor

To my husband, because I love you. I often wonder where life would take me if I had not found my anchor. Where would I be? No doubt, I would land amongst rocky shores, beaten and worn from the tossing waves. I would be seasick, sick of sea and weary of water. No doubt my skin would be caked in salt, my lips bleeding and dry, hair matted and coarse and bones, tired and limp.

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kali-maa-pooja
Featured Fiction God India Mythology Rape Religion Short Story Top

Kali in the Kitchen!

I watch in trepidation as Ma stalks the kitchen. She’s picked up the sickle, not a good sign. I know better than to stand in her way or try and dissuade her, she’ll calm down eventually, work out that it’s not the right time. But today, I can’t help but worry. There’s something different in the way she’s holding her weapon. I move away, I know there’s nothing I can do for the time being,

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Arts Fiction India Short Story Top

The barefooted educator

Mr Govinda Das was a good friend of my father’s. I remember him as the old man who always had a story to tell, who would doze quietly in the corner when the clock turned ten, and who laughed so loudly you were compelled to join in, whether you understood the joke or not. The man had a dry wit and a twinkle in his eye. He didn’t have time for us children but he

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Fiction Short Story Top

Waiting

Maya lit the candles atop the table. She drew the curtains closed and sat upon the faded green sofa, which in turn, rested upon cracked ceramic floor tiles in a rented house that had seen better days. Her surroundings glowed and dimmed to the whim of the candlelight whilst Maya paused to relish the scent of the elderflower and rose tealight flickering near the open window. The curtains billowed like sails allowing a rare breeze

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Fiction Short Story Top

Layla and the tea cup

The tea-cup lay emptied of its contents, waiting to be washed and put away, to be used again. Layla stretched lazily on the bed. Waiting for an excuse to move, a reason to get dressed. Nothing. Far away, she could hear the train; the loud bass howl as it trundled down the tracks. She wondered what would happen if she bought a train ticket and just left. A baby wailed in the flat next door

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friends
Fiction Love Short Story Top

The Bump

1990 Tammy watched the little boys zoom across the grey concrete on the playground. They screamed and yelped and made their voices deeper as they stopped, turning and facing their enemies with their fists on their hips. They were superheroes, with their coats buttoned around only their necks and their hoods turned up on their heads. Tammy desperately wanted to join in. It looked like so much more fun than playing ‘Mummies and Daddies’. For

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