The evening is still, the birds silent, the wind dead like a tramp, flopped on a footpath. The sky is dressed in dust and dusk. His lungs cannot pull in half the air they used to soak till the last…
Tag: Fiction & Literature
A Far Cry from Mr Darcy
The concluding part of 'Never Forget a Ruby' 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,…
A Polar Bear Remembers
'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 'Never Forget a Ruby' ‘Yes, I am…
The Man from Baker Street
(The story begins in 'Never Forget a Ruby' 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…
Never Forget a Ruby
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…
Sam Was Sad
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…
The Monk in the Rain
I’ve had a love-hate relationship with March, the onset of summers since early days. The weather in that small patch of year is just perfect, neither hot nor cold and rarely wet. The air is fragrant with panicles bursting on…
Painter of Omens
Painting by Pino Daeni When Avi said he saw Dr Sharma’s wife’s ghost, what he meant he had seen a ravishing young woman, fairy white and buxom, sitting stark naked on the terrace of the house that overlooked his backyard.…
It Happened to a Wobbly-legged Boy
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 the suffering that has survived the quicksand of consciousness…
The Ghosts of Jamun Trees
Before he died, Karamuva was the best tree climber of the village and the clusters surrounding it. He loved to clamber up anything green with stalks and leaves, planted to the earth and capable of withstanding human weight. From the…
Another Day like This
The aqua green sedan came to a halt at the corner of the road. A yellow ‘TAXI’ sign glowed dully on its roof. The street lights were still on although the night had fallen off the sky. The driver recovered…
Going Blind
O Scorpio-cat When you have gone My eyes will turn To lumps of stone ~Vikram Seth Not that he was cooking often, yet a man must have a morsel to live. Usually, he would just warm up a bun or…
One Grain Amongst the Storm 