Magic: A Short Story
(Father's Day Special)-
16 JUN 2017 AT 0:00
Shagun: A Very Short Story
The bank clerk asked the old man for a bribe of 500 rupees to sign his pension papers. The 65-year-old, helpless and fidgety, painfully took out a 500-rupee note from his wallet and took another minute to extricate a 1-rupee coin. Handing both over, he whispered, "Son, the one rupee is shagun so that this undeserved money doesn't bring misfortune to you and your family."
The bewildered clerk returned the 500-rupee note in a reflex and signed the pension papers hurriedly. When it came to handing over the 1 rupee of shagun, he just couldn't. It had saved him from misfortune. With his eyes down with shame, he mumbled, "May I keep it, uncle?"-
14 AUG 2017 AT 0:53
The Family Tree: A Very Short Story
Once upon a time, there lived a barber. He had a 16 year old son, thoroughly disinterested in his father's vocation, but the father forced him into his business right after his school. The barber feared that if his son studied further, he might leave the village and settle in the city, forsaking him.
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28 OCT 2017 AT 1:17
Rajiv chowk station.
Teeming with people.
You and me.
Not talking.
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6 NOV 2017 AT 3:30
ये जो + दबाने पर लपक कर आता है, उस कीबोर्ड को समझाओ कि लफ्ज़ को इतनी जल्दी नहीं इस डिजिटल काग़ज़ पर तैरने की। जल्दी है तो उसके इनबॉक्स में उतरने की और वहीं रहने की, हमेशा, इस आस में कि कभी यूँही किसी रात को नींद ना आने पर उन्हें पढ़ गलती से typing और उसके सामने बेचैन करने वाले तीन बिंदु ... दिख जाए। मानो एका-एक सरपट एक जवाब आये, ठहरे, सहमे और रुक जाए, फिर बैकस्पेस की बारीक़ धार उसे छिल जाए। और मैं।
अरे भाई मेरा क्या? मैं इत्मिनान से इस बुलबुले से चुलबुले कीबोर्ड को देख, कुछ लफ्ज़ जो उस चैट विन्डो में मौजूद होने की खुशी गवाँ बैठे हैं, उन्हें बटोरता हुआ यहाँ, इस कोट के चार दीवार में उन्हें एक और रात अपना सर टिका सो जाने की दरख्वास्त कर सो जाऊंगा। जैसे आज।-
7 APR 2017 AT 23:49
The Wedding Card: A Short Story
His loneliness is twenty four years, seven months, and nineteen days old. It crept in the moment when he received her wedding card one night prior to her wedding which carried a note in her beautiful handwriting saying, 'Forget me.'
He lived in her neighbourhood, having first met her in his childhood when she broke his nose with her racquet, having first known her in his adolescence when both passed furtive glances at each other from the edges of their balconies, having first loved her in his adulthood when she stood by him like a pillar as he lost his parents in a car-crash, and having first longed for her in his lonely life that followed after the wedding card reached his hands. He couldn't convince her parents to allow their daughter to marry him - a struggling orphaned writer. He decided ... (continued in caption).-
23 APR 2017 AT 1:04
Aftershave: A Short Story
My husband has been a jolly man. Charming and peculiar are the adjectives that were added once I got married to him. His habits seemed really bizarre to me at first; not until when I got used to them that I could let him be as he was. The first few months of our marriage were disastrous, nothing less than a wrestling match, except that unsurprisingly it was I who always won. He was too docile to fight with me, but at the same time, too adamant to let go of his childish habits.
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25 APR 2017 AT 0:42
Storeroom: A Short Story
As a child, I'd sneak into the store room where all the ration was kept and play the shopkeeper for hours every day after school. For me, shop-keeping was the coolest profession out there! When my mother or grandmother came to pick things like salt or oil or detergent from the store room, it wasn't just a pick up: it was a trade, since I made them treat me like a shopkeeper and make proper purchases with paper-cut money that I had given them a minute before.
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