You randomly decide to catch up with a friend at a bookstore which has a cafe that is known for chai. Well, no suspense there it is called Cha Bar and the bookstore goes by the name 'Oxford Bookstore'. This is in Connaught Place of New Delhi, India. So, I was in the metro today… Continue reading Cat Among The Pigeons
Un sardiyon ki raaton main Mere haath mai ek cigarette thi Aur tumhare haath mai chai ka cup Hum dono ek thele par baithe Andheri sunsaan raat mai Baate kar rahe the Kohre ke saath Hamare muh se dhuan nikal raha tha Us hisaab se toh Cigarette tum bhi pee rahi thi Maine haskar yeh… Continue reading Cigarette aur chai
I wrote this back in March this year. Enjoy reading it!
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
It was late at night and the room was too humid, I thought it would be better to go out on the small balcony for a while. I went out and saw pigeons resting on the cables that went through one side to the another and then naturally I saw up and then towards the… Continue reading The farewell
I haven't written for a long time. A little note I wrote which might make sense. The key word here is might. Anyway let me know. And I hope you all have been great, let me know.
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
The last 50 pages A hot summer night And a thought of you. -Jafar Rehman P.S. 'You' here can be food.
I wanted to post here for a long time and for once if you have read some of my previous posts, you would want to shoot me right now. Why? Because I say the same darn thing all the time. I know that is old and I need a new statement to support my absence… Continue reading Metro Morning
Tell me What happens when You stick a knife Into a man's stomach And he spurts blood From his mouth And then as life leaves him He grabs your collar And looks you in the eyes With a pleading look And questions you Without a sound. Do you for once feel sad? Were you at… Continue reading Tell me