Posts

Denial

The dazzling rays of the sun filled Gita’s eyes with tears. She looked on; let the tears flow down to cool her warm cheeks. She understood for some time that she was more sensitive than others around her. She was special, as gentle as the breeze, as soft as a petal, as pure as dew upon a morning glory. But no one knew, no one understood. As a child she never understood herself too well, but soon she began to mature and found it hard to resolve, to make a choice. Her mind she thought was making place for disturbed thoughts. When she went on holidays to Amu’s house in Banaras, she often played on the rooftop with her. The regular household game was their favourite. She pretended to be the husband and Amu wife. She worked in the office while Amu stayed at home, cooking and keeping the house beautiful. She looked after the children, their two dolls, Tipu and Pipa who were naughty enough to give her a run for the day. However, Amu managed all well, fed them, taught them and kept them aw
Post a Comment
Read more

Pudina Chutney

Pudina Chutney   Pop flew the lunch box lids as the Std 8 th group of four calling themselves the Qourageous Quad sat opening their lunch just above the basketball grounds. The mouthwatering delicacies sent their fragrance to the tip of the tall pine trees and the wind around them felt happy to be laden with the delectable aroma.   Aloo ka paratha with Pudina ki chutney, Makki ki roti with Sarsoon ka saag, Rajma Chawal and peas pulao with paneer butter masala…Umm quite a treat! Spoons dipped from one box to the other as each scooped mouthful of the goodies. The chummy sounds of lip-smacking, finger-licking, and munching were the sheer profits of a mother’s toil in the wee hours of the morning. ‘My mom makes such delicious pudina ki chutney, no one can make it like her.’ Alok said these words as he fastidiously licked the small box that contained the last residual green stains of the chutney. ‘Stop bragging Alok, my mom makes it better. I am not saying your moms aren’t good,
Post a Comment
Read more

The Rise

  Little Kochini is a boy from East Africa. He is only twelve and at this small age he has seen much that many haven’t and still they call themselves grownups. He knows that at night when the herd of elephants come to the village it was alright to change their course with lighted torches as protecting oneself from these dangers was not disrespecting them but also making them realize that each living being has to protect themselves.   ‘Life is only about surviving’, Grandma Sa had told him since he began understanding what she said. Grandma Sa was treated with great respect by the village people and Kochi was lucky that he was part of her family. Once when he was small, he was severely ill and everyone thought he would die, but he managed to live. ‘You are a survivor my boy,’ Grandma Sa had said. Kochi knew that no situation in life could bog him down. His grandma Sa thought he was a survivor and he would have to fight every moment of uncertainty with courage and strength. Koc
Post a Comment
Read more

The Walk

The beads of perspiration streamed down my forehead and slithered in my eyelids. With one hand I wiped my face and the other clung to the bag heavily laden with food and water, I tugged along. The backpack began stretching the shoulders down and weighing as low to my hips and beat against them each time I walked. Unable to pull any further, I let go under a thickly canopied mango tree along the roadside. Wondering if I had taken a wise decision and hoping I hadn't acted too hastily; I felt the sun melting my determination and scorching the metalled road with its intense heat. My throat parched; I pulled a bottle out of my bag. Though there was an average stock, I took judicious two sips and carefully replaced the bottle saving on every bit I had. Sleep was luring and not even the muddy road or the sweltering sun could stop it from totally invading me. I had walked for two hours at a stretch, something I had never done before and now couldn’t go one step further. The damp swea
Post a Comment
Read more

The Blanket

    It was a long tiring day, it had become a norm, since Shubho had joined Adella Abdulla seven months ago. The night star of the city received cheering footfalls, especially during winters. Regardless what day of the week it was, the place always bubbled with carefree groups of fun-loving young people. Business was swelling and his boss was an angel at heart. If he did well, he made sure that he shared the bounties with his team.  Shubho had bought his 250-cc electric blue slim FZ Yamaha just three months ago, after the raise he had received.  Being late now didn’t really matter. He loved cutting through the chilly winter winds in the late hours of the night when traffic was close to nil on the highway. With nothing to stop him but the occasional speed breakers, he sped covering the 46Km in about 30 minutes.  When he entered Garia, he would slow down, as even in the darkest hours though the traffic was thin, the roads were narrow with dim lighting. He played safe.  He w
Post a Comment
Read more