Shadows and Whispering Winds

The breeze felt warm and shadows came alive, it was as if each shadow had a story to tell. Kathanika, had finished reading the story of Nagamandala the much acclaimed play by Dr.Girish Karnad. The abstractness amused her .An untold story coming to life asking to be told. May be that triggered the feeling of... Continue Reading →

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Dust the cinders and ashes.

“mom, I am coming over for the weekend.” Not so much as is it okay with you. Uri wondered why on earth she didn’t reply, “Great baccha, but I have to stay on to complete my commitments.” Yes she was out of integrity with herself. If she did not value her words and her commitment... Continue Reading →

The Arm Chair guide

Dawn at no.8 Devanhalli is unlike the musical strains of Amanda Shankar’s “Dawn at Varanasi.” If dawn at Varanasi takes you through the ethereal  (though imaginary) sounds of Varanasi, dawn at Devanhalli is very real, and very southern with wafting coffee, Amma pounding on her Dell laptop which has replaced her portable Tippa Typewriter, Vimmi-ajji... Continue Reading →

If it could go with a puff

Mom I have decided to take the offer at Taj. Hope it is okay. Having lunch with Dada Love Shanaya The message flashed on Riya’s  screen. She stared at the email message and  no longer made sense. Just three lines to her life-the life she worked so hard. Sacrificed so much to build was crumbling... Continue Reading →

The Open Secret

Shweta entered her compartment, placed her bags. Sat beside the window. She picked up her Daphne Beauchamp book. The story was setting in the Anglo-Indian community of the Doon Valley.  The journey of the three generations, beginning with very British rooted ones to the totally indianized a Punjabi one that emerging. The conflicts of Mahanadi... Continue Reading →

Bringing up…

It was his first day in college.  He had to get there in time; the session began at 8 am, He had left home at 7am, reached the college at 7.40 and grabbed a cup of coffee and just made it in time for the class. The room seemed full, some of them seemed familiar.... Continue Reading →

Being Lily Livered

“It can’t be true” “But that is what your report says,” the man in the white coat told Dasappa. To Dasappa the man in the white coat was a demi-god, he did not know that the man was a technician, to make matters worse the man handed the report to the “Nurse-Amma” she looked at... Continue Reading →

If heart break can speak

Day 1 at the Himalayan writing retreat. We had to center ourselves and write for 20mnts. Without thinking we were to let the story flow. Here is my 20 mnts. The twenty minute exercise. Mangal’s office. Beige salwaar, rather untidy, her back towards me. I could see the loosening of the juda that would have... Continue Reading →

The Scullery Maid.

One battered cape for sale. But no one would want to buy it, the cape of the super woman. There are scriptures and scriptures that talk about women, their status and whatever but the only ones we taught are.. “karyeshu daasi, karaneshu manthri, bhojeshu mata, shayneshu rambha, Kshyamayeshu dharithir, Roopeshu Lakshmi, Satkarma Yukta, Kuladharma pathni.”... Continue Reading →

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