One Last Rain!

The house is heavy with grief. Twisting an escaping strand of my curled hair in my finger, I bite my lower lip to stop myself from getting emotional. Outside, as I hear thunder, a sudden smile of secrecy escapes my pursed lips. Abandoning my family in time of their need, I take one step back, listening to…

Handwriting

I was left with the fresh taste of impending doom and the piercing sound of the squealing tyres as I crawled onto the pavement. In a sudden moment of clarity, my past bore into my conscience. In effect, my wall of heroic nonchalance was reduced to smouldering ashes. I could literally see the flames dancing…

Balloon

By: Khusbu Agarwal Life had probably changed a lot for me that I never realised. Moonlight walks changed into late night strategy workshops and candlelight dinners turned into business meetings. Sweet and short phone calls from the loved ones, transformed into long hours of teleconferences. Gifts were no more priority now — there should be…

Little Spire from Last Summer

(Inspired by ‘My Last Himalayan Trek’. We Miss Sneha( in story, she’s referred as Ruth) – a lady who lived the longest in the shortest life span. She would stay in my heart, forever as the sweetest inspiring memory of my life). It’s a story that happened during last summer when each leaf was turning…

The Nineteenth Autumn

I  was  9, when  I  had  planted  her,  as  a  sapling… Few months after Mum passed away, Dad and I shifted to Akhnoor(A Small city of Jammu). The place is believed to be the ancient city of Virat Nagar mentioned in the Mahabharat. The city was calm yet beautiful. Dad believed that shifting to a different place…

A Kiss, Last Night…

It’s not that Samarpan is uninterested to attend the semester exam this morning, but his mind is elsewhere. With a chorus of delirium by anonymous questions and heart pounded with fearful thoughts, he is sitting on the bed at the same place since last couple of hours. Though today he is supposed to go to…

Mortal Love

I was standing on the balcony, staring blankly at the crashing waves. The mug of hot coffee in my hand had already grown cold. I was running my fingers over my face, pushing back my wind whipped hair and brushing away my tears at the same time. My cheeks were turning dry before getting wet…