The concluding part of ‘Tell Me, Cleopatra!‘ As I stood stiff under a jet stream of water, the set of four faces kept throbbing in my head, they all saying something to my eyes squeezed shut. Hemant, Robin, Sonia, Ruby and a stab in my heart. I lathered myself like a soiled bedspread and let […]
Read more
Tag Archives: Short Story
A Polar Bear Remembers
May 19, 2013 
50 Comments
‘There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before.’ ~ A Study in Scarlet Read the preceding part ‘The Man from Baker Street‘ here. The story begins here in ‘Tell Me, Cleopatra!‘ ‘Yes, I am mad about books. And for a bookworm like me, it is sacrilege not to have heard […]
Read moreThe Man from Baker Street
May 17, 2013 50 Comments
(The story begins in ‘Tell me, Cleopatra!’ Read it here. ) I was about to begin hating ‘dodger blue’ cars for years to come but I didn’t know it then. It was morning still and we were swarming the porches of Tagore Block. The air was crisp, tinged with smoke from the bonfires of fallen […]
Read moreTell Me, Cleopatra!
May 11, 2013 71 Comments
She was not a friend, nor a classmate, nor a social sibling –the veil under which some people fraternised in the college. We were graduating in the same year and we both had English Literature and she was in the other section further down the hallway. Although the timings for the classes were the same […]
Read moreSam Was Sad
May 1, 2013 56 Comments
It was a sultry summer morning when I first met Sam twenty five years ago. My roommate was groveling for an omelet, sprawled in his bed. He had been missing his turn at cooking breakfast for the fourth day in a row. ‘I swear I’ll take over tomorrow.’ I hate the promise of tomorrows. Ask […]
Read moreTo Kill a Dying Monk -II
April 24, 2013 67 Comments
The concluding part of the Dying Monk series. Read the first part here. Murali recovered his canvas shoes from a hollow in the trunk and slipped to the ground on his toes. Moving quickly, he broke into a half-crouching run through the mustard fields till he reached the abandoned tube-well shed. Looking up at the […]
Read moreTo Kill a Dying Monk
April 22, 2013 53 Comments
Murali lay still on a festoon of boughs of the twin mango trees at the edge of the orchard. The pair of owls that had tried their best to scare him off with a medley of boos had fallen silent. A half moon hung in the midnight sky shedding a faint light on the somnolent […]
Read moreThe Monk in the Rain
March 10, 2013 100 Comments
I’ve had a love-hate relationship with March, the onset of summers since early days. The weather in that small patch is just perfect, neither hot nor cold and rarely wet. The air is fragrant with flowers bursting on mango trees. Gusts of wind sweep the fallen leaves aimlessly amidst the rhythmic calls of koels. Fields […]
Read morePainter of Omens
November 18, 2012 71 Comments
When Avi said he saw Dr Sharma’s wife’s ghost, what he meant he had seen a ravishing young woman, fair as lily and buxom as a nymph, sitting stark naked on the terrace of the house that overlooked his patio. Her legs dangled onto the thin ledge as she looked ahead, her golden hair flung […]
Read moreIt Happened to a Wobbly-legged Boy
October 12, 2012 96 Comments
Many years ago, when time had still not shriveled my mother, and I was still a shy little boy, I was struck by a bout of measles. The only memory of my suffering that has survived the quicksand of consciousness is the quarantine imposed upon me. It was pretty close to being jailed with a […]
Read more
Copyright © 2007 – 2013 U. S. Pandey
Contents of this Blog cannot be copied, stored or reproduced without written consent.
Recent Comments