The end

Part 1: Six feet down A grave a sound A crying woman A mother maybe? Or a wife? Who else would grieve At this time? Who would remember This unmarked grave? Part 2: Wind blows with a hint of raindrops Enough to let you feel the water Leaves move away The veil has been lifted… Continue reading The end

Gullad ka Ped

Raat ke kuch 11 baje honge use yaad aaya ki gaadi bahar khadi hai aur choriyaan badhti jaa rhi thi. Neend main behaal woh utha, chappal pehni aur chabhi utha kar bahar nikla. Darwaze ke us par ek choti si CFL jal rahi thi aur mausam thanda sa tha. Sardi ke aasar in dino ke… Continue reading Gullad ka Ped

Mez (Table)

Chote se kamre main kone ko ek mez rakhi hui thi. Raat ka waqt tha toh andhera laazmi tha. Us kone wali mez par ek lamp rakha tha. Us lamp ki roshni se mez par ralji kitaabe dikhi aur baaki samaan bhi. Woh kamre main ghusa aur dekha ki kamra thanda sa tha lekin pankha… Continue reading Mez (Table)

Metro Ride #521

I got into the metro and the guy ahead of me looks at his reflection and dances. Maybe that's what late nights do to you, they allow you to be more expressive. Anyway, I get myself a seat and the gate of the metro stays open so that more people can board it, it reminds… Continue reading Metro Ride #521

Tea Cup- Short story (hindi)

I came to the blog with the determination to write something and then I checked my last post. Guess what, it was on 20th of August, exactly a month ago. In that very post, I had mentioned about writing more frequently which I failed to do. A lot of reasons but let's not get into… Continue reading Tea Cup- Short story (hindi)

Garmi ka ek din

Hello again. I recently invested in a diary and now my aim is to put it to a good use. Today, I wrote a short story and a sher. Now you will have to wait for the sher because this post will have the story. Read it and let me know your views. 🙂

Woh Shaam

I wrote this back in March this year. Enjoy reading it!

Incidences in Fahistan

This dates back to 27th of February 1952 and it happened to be a leap year when Mrs. Singh gave birth to a baby boy who'd grow up to be the protagonist of this story. The boy was named Rajendra Singh and had a pleasant childhood despite the fact that he was a thin boy… Continue reading Incidences in Fahistan

That call

None of them believed me, for the thing I told them was of a very strange nature. Most of the people would have never heard such a thing and imagining it was beyond the capability of many. After I was done speaking, I realized my throat was dry and the strange silence had enveloped us… Continue reading That call

Duty Calls- Short story Part 1

This morning he was sitting in his jeep outside the government hospital. He had parked under a tree beside the gate, a few steps away from the bus stop where in every 5 minutes a bus came and a hoard deboarded the bus. A few went into the hospital while others rushed towards the metro… Continue reading Duty Calls- Short story Part 1