Of Birth, Death, and Life…

Why, by the end, does everything turn into a source of pain? Arham is known by his colleagues as someone who dwells in the past. In his defence, he always asks them "well, who doesn't?" While everyone else is talking either about the future or their 'could have been' versions, he prefers to think of...

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Of Men And Their Ways…

At dawn, when all the boys with whom he used to play cricket in the ground are still asleep, Balu is woken up by his senile father. The sixth child in his father's brigade, as the old man used to call his children together, Balu was the youngest. His two elder sisters were married and...

Of Sour Relationships and Dirty Tables…

There was something overwhelmingly disappointing about the movement of the sun that day, or perhaps it was the movement of the clouds, enshrouding the sun like a mother protecting her son from evil eyes. He stayed atop his bed, struggling with his breaths, taking turns between his sides, and this continued for long, for almost...

OF CLOCK, LAUGHTER AND LEGS…

He had moved out of the previous apartment when it had become impossible for him to touch anything in it without feeling her touch on his hand. And this, he came to learn, as is the case with most of the other things a man learns only with the passage of time, happened to a...

Of Motions and Emotions…

His stomach rumbled the third time in what could not have been more than ten minutes, convincing him that he'd finally have to get up and make his way to the toilet. The digital clock mounted on the wall displayed some numbers, but at his age and in his predicament, the numbers no longer made...

A DIMLY LIT ROOM WITH A RAY OF HOPE

Just like the way a girl never forgets her first kiss, a boy never forgets his first bike, a father never forgets his child’s first grip around his finger, and a mother never forgets to check on her child who stays away from her - I can never forget what happened in those few days...