When I turned seventy-five, a few years back, both my children moved out of Southern California—for good, my daughter even said—, and fearing I may not have many years ahead of me—I feel it in my body these days—, I…
I heaved my shoulder bag and peered through the grills of the gate. There was nobody in sight. This not how I had expected it to be, nor was this how I had known the place. I opened the heavy…
Arjun and Anjali, a young, successful, and apparently happily married couple drive from the city to picturesque Kashipur to spend a few weeks at their friend’s summer house. They are well looked after by Shanti, the housekeeper, who takes pains…
‘Nothing’ is about the ancillary or collateral existence of women in traditional Indian set up. They are objects and conduits and means to ends. They are taught to pare down their own selves till they reduce themselves to relationships. The…
Short Story ID- 15/2015 Dear Diary, I went to school today only by noon because we celebrated Thatha’s Sadabishekam in the morning. I must say, a morning well spent rekindling childhood days with my cousins and eating many, many sweets…
Short Story ID- 14/2015 “I remember you, Ranga Kakima” Shovan whispered. “You were not like this, never.” Looking at the shriveled up body of the old woman, Shovan shook his head. The room looked the same to a large…
Short Story ID- 13/2015 She was five when her mother took out a perfectly polished agate and moonstone encrusted sword from the attic, dusted it thoroughly and handed it to her. Her small hands were too soft, and her frame,…
Short Story ID- 12/2015 Two things struck him when he slapped her hard across her face: unlike in the movies his hand didn’t swing in a semi arc, but stopped right on contact and, again unlike in the movies, it…
Short Story ID- 11/2015 Whenever I see a butterfly, or a bee, sucking at a flower, I imagine Annie’s lips and mine hovering, approaching, penetrating into them. False are all the theories of soul and metaphysics; the world is matter,…
Short Story ID- 8/2015 Her little shoes were bright red in the warm sunlight. They were the only part of her clothing which looked clean and new. Her green and white dress was ragged, and some of the jade beads…
Short Story ID- 7/2015 R. K. Narayan went to the office of the Registrar of Births and Deaths at the district headquarters at Malgudi to obtain the death certificate of his father Krishnaswamy Iyer so as to transfer money and…
Short Story ID- 6/2015 A beauty sleeps in the open brown box Its legs outstretched like sunbathing under The angry summer sun. It sings to me, its eyes closed “I am the corpse of a woman who loved.” The woman…