Forbidden Fingers

“This town is resting place for heathen Gods of rain” my father used to say. It rained mercilessly here.  Our town was a big family of 100 odd small families; tens of temples, one Catholic church, a school, two administrative organizations from where half of the town drew their bread. After school, I would ride through […]


i) the first time i saw you, he held your hands a little too firmly. i could still see the spaces between them. your eyes reeked smokeless fires and i couldn’t resist taking a plunge.   why did you twitch your lips destitutely, when your eyes met mine. was is your heart skipping a beat or […]

Pride of Gypsies

Our houses were separated by a few hundred meters, but I could see her rusted green iron backdoor from my balcony. I would watch her watering dahlias in the morning. On certain days, water would splash on her face, bouncing back from the incredibly small enclosures of her garden. The gloss those water droplets left […]

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