Arts Child Abuse Child Sexual Abuse Education Fiction Life Love Relationship Short Story Social Issues Social Values and Norms

My dream is to fly

Baabush loved to fly kites. He could run along the railway tracks all day, waiting for the gush of air to pick pace as the trains screeched past him. When the winds made their way through the cramped lines, his kite soared, lifting his spirits along. He jumped with joy when his kite went high, as high as the planes that flew in the sky. “Didi, main badaa hoke hawaai jahaaz udaana chahta hun”. I

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Painful, Hopeless, Helpless, Despair, Dejected are words which now defined Abhinav. Every setting sun would put him through an intense pain. The feeling of not being able to succeed in his task would only make him more feeble and he now felt like being a born loser. Its been three years and he had not been able to transform his plans into something substantial. Abhinav had been trying to set up a small unit of

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Fiction Love Love In The Times Of Recession Romance Short Story Top

A budding romance

“Rahul… Naam toh suna hoga” said he, holding his hand for her to shake.  She let out a tiny smile and took his hand. An SRK fan. This one will be fun to talk to. “Simran”, she said. “Really?” “Yes really. I was born in the 80s and my granddad named me Simran much before Aditya Chopra had even thought of DDLJ” And that’s how it had started… Simran met Rahul at Madras Cafe in

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Fiction Life Love Short Story Top

A pinch of salt

“Documents-checked, tickets-checked, clothes-checked, food pouch-checked.” Don’t want to get late this first time out of my den, just to explore a new place. Well of course going out to pursue my much Excited, need a room to lash out my thrill. 🙂 Mom and dad making sure I don’t miss out on a single thing, only i know how careless I am. Still some time left for my departure. Mom’s eyes have started

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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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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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He’s a liar!

I watch him as he gets into his car. I’m careful to remain unseen. It’s a Wednesday so he’s wearing a navy blue blazer, a white shirt and a bright red tie. His hair, brown and wavy hasn’t been cut in a while and is beginning to look unruly. I rather think it suits him. He drives off. I go into to make myself another cup of tea. The kettle boils and the tea-leaves infuse

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Arts Fiction Literature Short Story Top

The Black Beauty – 1

A misty morning in the monsoon, and I stepped out of my apartment to begin my daily commute to work. Becky, the dog, rested peacefully at the stairs bidding me goodbye with her poignant eyes. She looked more tired than usual or was she ill; I didn’t know. I stroked her black hair, and rubbed her forehead before leaving. The murk of the fog that morning shielded the greenery around – holding a silence that

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I’m Watching You

I’m watching you. I’m watching you. I’m watching you. The words go around and around my head. He’s watching me. I suspect he’s been watching me for a long time. I shiver instinctively and walk to the window to draw the curtains. My phone buzzes and I jump. I pick up. There is no one there. The phone buzzes again. This time there is a message. The tiny envelope in the corner of the screen

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Fiction Life Short Story Top

The Rains

“Do you remember that August, when we met?” “We met in July.” His reply was curt. Arnav turned the page of the book he was reading. His spectacles, threatened to slide off his nose until he quickly flicked them back up to their rightful position. He scribbled in the margins, diligently underlining and muttering important words under his breath. Nayna watched her husband and noted the greying hair, the fine lines that had begun to

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