Love in the Time of Bloodless Nights

Those were testing times for Queen Felizabeth. The longest reigning monarch of the…

The Highway

Coming from a truck driver, this might sound like a butter-fattened lie: I never drive rashly. Yes, you read that right. I also don’t…

At World’s End

In a neighbourhood characterised by low hanging meshes of wires, narrow alleys, and watchful eyes, a girl in a black robe stepped…

Swan Lake

It was the summer of 1989. Following post graduation, I got my first job as a senior resident at the Swan Lake Institute for Mental Health…

The Archives of Everyone

Go, discover yourself Wasim.

Does he journal daily? That’s a problem.

(Note to the reader: Please be patient with the story. Linger)

We seem to have a job opening(s) here

The apocalypse didn’t come. It was supposed to come. We had the omens, the signs, the somber warnings, the prayer meetings, the hysteria, masses breaking down in public, the looting, vandalism, screaming, begging. And more.

What did I do?

“Hello.

Is it me you’re looking for?”

Shoes and Dirt.

On a busy New York street, one frequented by suits and shirts, was a corner office building that stood out from the rest.

The Vaulted Bookbank.

The large wooden doors swung in soundlessly. Ravi’s hand had barely pressed against them. He stepped in, and as soon as…