People thought she was not like this as a young girl. It afflicted her only after she became a ‘professor’. But I, who have almost been her shadow in our years of growing up together, always knew that absentmindedness was…
Short story selected for the 2013 New Asian Writing Short Story Anthology The party was almost drawing to a close. Empty champagne glasses carelessly arranged themselves along with discarded plates, crumpled paper napkins and used cutlery on the pale cream…
Short story selected for the 2013 New Asian Writing Short Story Anthology The flowery chiffon dress left a soft warm sensation every time it touched him. He pulled her close to him, his strong hands around her soft stomach, cheek…
Haiku1 Expiry date reached Maker awaits an arrival Dying for a smoke Haiku 2 Looking at the skies Crescent moon glistens Eating cheese cake Haiku 3 Friends dancing in the rain Leaving an awesome party Such a wet…
Short story selected for the 2013 New Asian Writing Short Story Anthology A real life story By Martine Olthof On 26th December, 2004, a huge tragedy hit South East Asia. At 07:58 local time Bangkok and Java) a Tsunami was…
Short story selected for the 2013 New Asian Writing Short Story Anthology The Collectors Conference was over at last. As the valedictory session ended, she heaved a sigh of relief. It had been difficult for her to keep her eyes…
Short story selected for the 2013 New Asian Writing Short Story Anthology Vendors flocked on the shadowed train station of Santragachi near Howrah city. There might have been an orange orchard tucked in some corner of the district as the…
I am very fair. When I was young, everyone thought, me included that I’d go into modelling. But as I grew older, my face was wrecked by pimples. Being too fair is not much of an advantage in a tropical…
NAW is now back and running again. Voicu Mihnea Simandan has graciously consented to hand over the reins. New Asian Writing is now being run by a team of editors based in India. Submissions are open and can be made…
Future was like yards and yards of plain-cloth in her imagination; new and uncut. It had the untouched feel and the seminal smell of starch. Present was a sewing machine that runs over the cloth, monotonously, for hours. Present stitches…
Biswanath Banerjee was up earlier than usual in the morning. He was flush with excitement, outwardly though he was the epitome of composure. He did not wish to let his wife Sucheta understand what was going on inside his mind.…