My balcony overlooks a lively park with little children chasing or tugging at each other. How beautiful is the gift of a real childhood in a place that has always been home! I admire the flamboyant flame trees around the park and try to recall the smell of a distant, forbidden land that was once
He looked at the wallpaper displayed on his phone. Her petite body with that tender face made her appear like a doll. Her silky brown hair falling on his chest suddenly made him feel desperate. The Eiffel tower behind them in the picture reminded him of their dream honeymoon. She had always adored classy things.
I still remember the first day when I left my home, nestled inside an organic farm at Kodumudi, a beautiful village on the banks of Cauvery river, to pursue a dream. Appa’s dream to be precise. Appa had made a vow to make me a doctor on the day Amma died of snake bite. She
‘Tap, tap, tap!’ Ten year old Jake saw a snow white pigeon tapping on the window-pane. He gazed restlessly at the snow white November landscape, then at his feet lying splayed on the bed. Useless. Wasted. That’s how he felt! The landscape appeared to echo this sentiment! Jake was the only child of Marra, a
An orphan, abused in shelters, devoid of any relationship, Roy grew up detesting humans and in an explicable manner, took up the role of a hired killer early in his teens. Putting a bullet through somebody’s skull, severing the artery of an unsuspecting victim and feeling the warmth of blood drenching his hands, gave him
Growing up in the concrete jungles of Mumbai, Chaithanya yearned to visit his grandparents who lived in a special village called Kumbalangi, where greenery is the theme; near Kochi, in God’s own country – Kerala. It had become sort of customary for him to celebrate his birthday, every year, with Appupan (grandpa), & Ammuma (grandma)