By Srirupa Dhar
Right now, Aadi desperately wanted to believe that Leo would come back with the same swing and spark defying the power of Nature and redefine the undying regenerative spirit of humanity.
By Swaty Mitra
Rohit walked into the lane to his parked car and drove slowly away from the procession, the noise, the voice, the girl who used to be, into the settling cold and darkness of the wintry evening.
By Abu Siddik
The reporter was snoring. The teacher feared the worst – International Tribunal, the detention camp, the separation from children and wife and neighbours, loss of land and his ancestral sweet home! Shaken and terrified, he lay awake the whole night harbouring thousand alien fears.
By Anu Karippal
I saw that he was drinking and eating Palappam. Who takes a peg, even with appam? Only bloody Malayali Christians. Appam looked so tiny and out of shape, like it was made by an overtly pampered young man for the first time.
By Vipasha Bhardwaj
Mukherjee has not spun a sentimental tale for the readers but only a realistic depiction of the trials and tribulations of a modern nuclear family. The story is loaded with guilt and disloyalty and the reverberations could be felt in the lives of Ronojoy and Sujoy.
By Nishi Pulugurtha
Parama suddenly said that something that happened a few days ago hurt her a lot. “What is it,” I asked. “Is it something at work? Did someone say something?” Mili asked. She shook her head. We waited for her to speak. It was obvious that whatever it was had caused her a lot of pain.
By Sunil Sharma
I was everywhere, yet nowhere. Hounded out everywhere. Cursed. Powerless. No voice. No clout. The dispossessed. I am Mr. Nobody. A human, yet not human. A native, yet an alien among my own. A man without any dignity. A soft target everywhere. An unseen man. A zero man. Phantom.
By Vivek Nath Mishra
I manured and watered them regularly but the plants were not that shiny anymore. She had some tricks that I didn’t know, perhaps the plants knew her touch. The sparrow that built nest there in my roof garden chose some other place, and the bulbul found another hand, I guess.
By Puja Roy
I intended to show a holistic picture of Pakistan to the Indian readers, and also remind Pakistani readers that humble environs of the desert of Baluchistan, the mountains of the Hazara belt, the sandy terrain of Waziristan and the dingy neighbourhoods of the urban cities, too had stories that were waiting to be told and read.
By Anirudh Kala
Ten minutes later, with a steady hand, Zalim Singh Bisht pulled the trigger of his service rifle, which was pressed firmly between the ground and his temple. The report was drowned in the din of the firecrackers.
By Rashid Askari
Really the Hindu girls were sweeter than the Muslim ones. He claimed to be a devout Muslim. He disliked everything of other religions except for women. He loved to graze in others’ fields leaping over the fence. He became the right producer of Angurbala.
By Anirudh Kala
And people swear that both sides, which were just one side now with many roads connecting them, had in front of houses, many flowers which came out tentatively in light colours, as if testing waters. And the breeze was balmy and the sea actually cool at least in the evenings.