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he Fake Astrologer | Rathindra Nath Bhattacharjee
Not so long ago, I had to go to Trongsa High School for invigilation. On reaching my destination, I was directed to one of the less used staff quarters away from the…
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Far So Far | Georgia Amane
After a middle-aged man who oversaw the class entered his classroom, a student on duty shouted an order. Then, all classmates stood up and bowed to him. ‘Today, I’ll teach you about Japanese ancient history,’ He said. He opened his textbook and groped for some chalk, although he didn’t touch any chalk. He continued to…
by: Georgia Amane
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Bottom of the Hell-Hole | Paromita Goswami
This is a place that never sees the sun, perpetually covered in a thick, grainy, grey darkness. You are forced to turn on the headlights of your car even in the middle of the day. You will feel an eerie sense of displacement, a fear that the grey will get into your mouth, nose and…
by: Paromita Goswami
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The Winged Crusader| Ramanujam Parthasarathy
‘Siraj, let’s begin with your teaching.’ I said. ‘Start the ball rolling.’ As Siraj stood up, he wrinkled his nose and twisted his mouth. I thought the effort was to produce a smile, but the result was an unintended grimace. A short portly man with a bulbous nose and a big salt-and-pepper moustache, he wore…
by: Ramanujam Parthasarathy
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Devi’s Quest for Immortality | Tom Thomas Koshy
It’s a very common thing that during the beautiful Theyyam dance, the Hindu ritual, the performer himself converted into a deity after discarding their original identity. However, this time a huge mass of dark, irritating clouds formed around Devi’s eyes when she came to know that the dancing God grasped her presence among the large…
by: Tom Thomas Koshy
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Lands We Don’t Return To | Joseph Antony Protus
With mist and darkness stagnant through the roads, dawn sought refuge on generous leaves and roofs atop the houses. People pacing to work never noticed the man lying on the grassy side of the road. Wounds on his chest, on each of his wrists and feet, drew the crows to peck on him. When the tea shop opened, and few…
by: Joseph Antony Protus
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Mist in the hills | Sarpreet Kaur
There are two constants in my life right now; a throbbing pain in my joints that cracks, clips, clops and makes many other quaint noises and the second one is my housekeeper; Sangeeta who chatters, cribs, whispers and shrieks to fill the other half of my life. I also have a daughter who is married…
by: Sarpreet Kaur
Poetry
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