I saw a spark and decided to keep it safe in the hollow of a forest tree. The forest smoldered and reduced to ashes. For that is the prowess of fire, be it a spark or an inferno. So said the poet Bharathi. And I concur, fire is fire – all consuming, purifying. And a fire… Read More Spark the change

They gazed at the desolate landscape around them and sighed. Their faces were weary and weathered. They felt old, not just because of their age. Well, that too; they were ancient, but for the first time in their existence they felt their age. ‘Well, that went south awfully quick, didn’t it?’ The man with the… Read More Three Reclining Chairs Outside Humanity

He walks at a steady pace, tapping his cane on the mud-caked road. The car is still there, a grotesque bas-relief amidst the scenic greenery. It was his car once, his prized possession, his black beauty. He walks towards the car and runs a loving hand over it. Twenty years ago, his wife, her mind… Read More The Car

I began 2019 with a nice trek on the Himalayas. We saw the snow-capped magnificence of Mt. Kanchenjunga, the third tallest peak in the world after the Everest and K2. After a week well spent in the mountains, its time for yet another edition of Friday Fictioneers hosted by our delightful host Rochelle. This week’s… Read More Not Today

They never said it would be this messy, and bloody! All they spoke was about the pleasure and the orgasmic high once it’s done. How do I clean the sheets? Mom’s gonna kill me. I’m so done with murder!

‘Hello…’ ‘Good to hear your voice…’ ‘Yeah! Yours as well…’ ‘Does it bother you?’ ‘What?’ ‘Talking to me?’ ‘No! Better than the silence.’ ‘Same here.’ ‘Had your tea?’ ‘Yes! You?’ ‘Having it as we speak…’ ‘Alright! Until later.’ Static filled the tent that had been his home for the past six years. The barbed wire… Read More Borders

She sets her little wooden chair next to the grave of her beloved and after a session of sighs and tears, she starts reading from the book he once loved. Fresh chrysanthemums adorn his grave, filling me with jealousy. Sometimes, I wish someone comes to sit for a moment next to my grave. I know… Read More Love