One evening Winnie-the-Pooh hurried to his good friend Piglet’s house. Piglet was working in his garden tending the plants and admiring the flowers. In the center of his little yard bloomed in all its glory and splendor, Flora amicitia, the rarest flower in the world. “Come Piglet, we must go quickly to the meadow!” said
One day Winnie-the-Pooh and his good friend Piglet were sitting together when Piglet said, “Why don’t we go hiking?” “Where shall we go?” asked Pooh. “How about Skyhigh Mountain? The whole world is visible from the top.” “We shall go tomorrow then!” said Pooh. Though Pooh did not like hiking, he was happy to go
When Krish’s face lit up his mobile, Ravi knew it was trouble at home. Radhi sounded anxious at the other end. ‘I am very concerned, Ravi. Can you come home now?’ He was on the road in the next ten minutes, thanks to his thoughtful boss. In the car, Ravi’s mind flashed a hundred images.
For Rakesh, it was, as usual, a normal boring day in the Kanti Nagar Police Station. By the way, Rakesh was a constable in Kanti Nagar Police Station and my friend. The daily chores include dealing with small thieves, sometimes chain snatcher and murderers once in six months along with writing FIRs but that day
Once there was a little boy who was a friend to all creatures big and small. On his way to school, he would give the bottle of milk that his mother prepared for him to a calf roaming in the street. He would give piglets belly-rubs whenever he saw them. He petted every dog he
It was his first night in the new rented house in Jamshedpur. His mother did a puja of Griha Pravesh in the morning. The aroma of dhoop, sandalwood and ghee was still lingering in the air. Avinash was feeling happy in his sleep. He was seeing his father in a dream. His dear father was
I had returned home from my board examinations when we learned about my grandma’s heart attack. She lived alone at our ancestral home in Kochi and my mom was devastated. Dad was away on a business trip and my mom had to decide between waiting for his return or leave me alone at home just
Martha’s feet hesitated over the dried leaves that travelled from the desolated street through the broken, partially unhinged front door. She touched the old, chipped doorframe and took a deep breath, still feeling the warmth of the place that we once called home. “Looks like things haven’t changed a bit, have they?” I smiled at
“Did he call?” Anu puts a question, knowing Meera will not like to answer. “The weather is nice today.” Meera does not break her gaze towards the sky. Anu knows Meera wouldn’t open up that easily. But Anu wouldn’t give up easily either. They are childhood friends and have been with each other through everything.
I am in an empty room. Lying on the floor. Maybe I am asleep. Gradually the walls begin to crumble as though the whole world is falling apart. As the bricks turn into dust, the door opens and I find myself in the middle of a street. I am surrounded by people. Hundreds and thousands,
“You should publish this!” Reza stated as Frieda engaged herself in sorting her crisp cotton sarees neatly. “Nopes!” Frieda replied as she hung a starched pink Lucknawi chikan saree in her wardrobe. “But why?” Reza almost shrieked. “This’d sell like hotcakes!” “It’s an incomplete diary entry, Rey” Frieda shrugged, “no one’s ever gonna be interested.”
There was a knock on my door. I opened it and he was there. Vitaglobulus citorotatus ambulocanthus brutum. I did not know that before, but that is what I found out he was. A living spherical fast-rotating mobile wheel-like creature. Indeed, he had the appearance of any ball you see the children playing with, as
H., the famous fishing magnate, who supplied fish to the gourmet chefs in town, and made the palates of pescatarians pulse with delight, walked towards the old suspension bridge. It spanned the broad river whose waters had made him rich and celebrated throughout the country. His legendary ability to introduce all kinds of exotic and
Tonight is my last in prison. Tomorrow at first light I will be executed. I am accused of the heinous crime of uxoricide and condemned to death by electrocution. Though I am an abhorrent man in the eyes of the world, I am indeed innocent. Like the angelic lamb I am sent to the slaughter
It was that time of the year. Steffi flipped the page on her desk calendar. Today morning was going to be a test of her perseverance. But she knew in her heart that she must cater to her responsibility without a doubt. She looked outside her window to see the kids playing merrily in the garden.
Every evening we used to walk in the park, but today he was not there. Instead, I found a note written in his calligraphic hand -“Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone.” I met him a month back when I saw him feeding bees with water. I immediately stuck up a conversation with him since I
On a late Sunday afternoon, five friends gathered at the Professor’s house for their customary meeting. They held their Sunday confab like clockwork since their youthful days. At their get-together, the friends entertained each other with motley stories from their lives. They would settle comfortably in their chairs sipping hot black tea. As the conversation
Some proclaimed me insane. Others called me an old man with nothing else to do than spin tall tales. But what I shall tell you is no lie. I once lived in a tiny village called Sylvaterra, a place surrounded by lush green vegetation. Wherever you looked, you could only see beauty. Though life was
He told me all the time “We have to get out of here.” I knew him since childhood; we were best friends. We grew up in an immense city, a sea of concrete, where the billboards were greener than the grass. His favorite activity was to rescue little plants trapped in a lifeless landscape and
There came a time in the life of Alpheus when he announced to his friend, “We have to get out of here.” His friend, as usual remained silent. Alpheus was accustomed to voicing all his thoughts with his rather reticent friend, Zebulon. But he did not mind, for he was elated he had someone to
Let me tell you about the man-child I met at the park. I call him the man-child because he looked like a boy, but spoke like a man, albeit, a strange one. Small and rotund like a new-born infant but articulating like an old man, he seemed to have got stuck in a limbo of
1 AM in the morning. Casper wakes up to find Cornelia; his wife is not asleep beside him. He hears faint unfamiliar voices downstairs. He gets up, walks down the stairway. His wife is in the kitchen arranging glasses on a tray. The scent of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air. On seeing Casper, Cornelia
The fragrance of freshly brewed coffee from the cafe below our office filled the air. I wished I were home but there was still work left to do at this late hour. I took out my diary from the drawer and continued where I left. The last entry, ‘he just left. They have not been