The water was so cold. It sent goosebumps up my spine. Why did I lay out the new cutlery? I asked myself out loud. “Because you wanted to treat your wife,” she said, sliding her hands along my torso. “Your hand goes any lower and you can say goodbye to this plate,” I warned myContinue reading “Dishes.”
Tag Archives: short story
Love is blind.
My eyes are paining from the long hours of research on the laptop. The pain in my back has aggravated. As I close my eyes and lull myself into sleep, I can feel your arm around me, snaking its way through the blanket onto my shoulders. I open my eyes but there’s no one besideContinue reading “Love is blind.”
In the woods.
The box. The door. The crumbling brick. They all begged me to enter. It was the only shelter I could find from the thunders outside! I’d lost my way back. Now it didn’t seem such a good idea to stomp out of the resort in anger. In my blind anger, I’d forgotten the road andContinue reading “In the woods.”
Hurt.
As he watched her walk away, he muttered abuses under his breath. As she walked farther, his voice became louder, hurling out the abuses loud now. It made him angry and unlike her, anger did not make him cry. Anger took him away from the pain, it made him feel in charge. He was noContinue reading “Hurt.”
Saving Grace. Part 2.
Continued from… His hand beneath her head, he sat beside her carefully, trying not to jerk her awake. The street was cold, almost wet. He took off his jacket and placed it on the ground. He awkwardly shuffled on to it. He checked his watch. Another 20 minutes to full light. What am I doingContinue reading “Saving Grace. Part 2.”
Diamonds.
“Diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” they said. I don’t know who the they here are. I don’t mean I don’t know, I just can’t seem to recall who exactly they are. I grew up listening to mothers say it, the advertisers claim it, movies celebrate it. I was brought up in an Indian middleContinue reading “Diamonds.”
Jilebis.
— Looking for feedback. All are welcome. — As I stood by the small sweet shop in one of the eat streets of the city, waves of hot air hit me from the stove lit ahead, as the heavy late night air settled around me. It was a hot night. The rains had been distantContinue reading “Jilebis.”
The Rose.
“Ouch,” she uttered, pulling back her finger from the rose stem. A thorn had pricked her and a drop of blood lay on her finger, perfectly placed like it always belonged there. She smiled. “Got yourself another prick, did you now?” her husband asked, as he sat in the hall, immersed in the morning’s papersContinue reading “The Rose.”
Of People and Things.
Naksh was singing at the top of his voice! “Papparah Papparah Papparah… Badtameez Dil Badtameez Dil… Ahh… Haan“ “Oh shut that radio thing off and stop jumping on the bed,” Shailjaa scolded her eight year old son, Naksh! No longer jumping, he smiled at her and stood there, the hand held radio his father boughtContinue reading “Of People and Things.”
Bed of thorns.
He sat with his hands folded in salutation. Once a while, a pair of legs would pass by him. He’d put out his open palms asking for alms. Sometimes, someone would drop a fruit or a sweet, other times a couple of coins. Some would walk away without leaving anything behind. Every time he’d getContinue reading “Bed of thorns.”
Inking The Thinking. 