Photo by Jordan Whitt on Unsplash “There !!” she pointed at the horizon, and the collective gaze turned towards the concrete road in the distance, shaded by mango trees. In a couple of seconds, they could make out a faint outline - a white tricycle being driven by a man hunched over the handles as … Continue reading how you make your gravy.
Refresh the page. The message remains. Again. The same result. Again. Unchanged. Again, and Again and Again. Truth doesn't care about feelings. ‘Why, why would she do it?’ Uninstall the app & turn the phone off. Switch it back & reinstall the app. Go to messages and open the one on the top. The one … Continue reading Confessions of a broken mind
Udhampur fast local roared into platform no. 2, right on time. The waiting crowd moved en masse, latching onto the door handles to grab an empty seat, and crashed
She saw the guy standing near the bar counter with Alan. He was dressed in clothes that matched the “Streets of NY” theme of this party, but she preferred the navy blue three-piece straight from the vaults of Savile Row he was wearing last week, a rarity indeed. His clean-cut jawline & muscular build already … Continue reading From Mars, with Love.
"Hello Sir, you have reached the post-sales service offices of T-rex Inc. How may I help you today?" Jasmine speaks in her trained neutral accent into the headset.
“Senor DeWoo, what should we expect next from the mind of this extraordinary director?” the reporter asked cheerfully as he shoved the microphone in Senor DeWoo's face and send him reeling backward. But instead of glaring down this unknown reporter from an obscure magazine, with a press pass that read Pratap, Senor DeWoo smiled, almost … Continue reading A homage to Casablanca
At long last, his dreams are going to come true. He spends all his savings on buying a brand-new camera he had wanted for so long.
An alternate historical account of Mount Vesuvius's eruption in 79 AD is inspired by "Shatranj ke Khilari" - a short story from 1924 writtern by the venerated Indian writer, Munshi Premchand.
Every year I promised myself that I won’t get the shit scared out of me this time. But no matter how mentally prepared I was for it, no sooner had the train entered this tunnel, than I felt like it was the start of a living nightmare.
The relentless morning sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky, and the warm summer air shimmered in a mirage over the asphalt road across the courtyard. Sweat ran down the wrinkled forehead into his cataract ringed eyes, and the cotton shirt turned sticky as he entered the front porch. Wiping off the sweat, he … Continue reading The woodcutter