By Sharif Atiquzzaman
After the polls, you can’t catch hold of their shadow. Now they promise the Earth. They are political fraud.
Tag: Fiction
By Anuradha Mazumder
His head began to swim, his eyes dimmed… suddenly, the train, the people, and the world around him started receding from him as the lonely coach hurtled through the dark entrails of the city at a breakneck speed.
By Atreyee Majumder
Bhatia has inaugurated a fantastic city-state that makes itself known in a circular arrangement, navigated by river Rasa, and rahi fields, and a massive wall cutting off the sky from line of vision.
By Kamalini Natesan
What I have is Daddy’s Hat, and Mommy’s Pain. There’s a hole inside me, I think. I think it is what I am, a girl with a hole inside her.
By Ram Govardhan
And Sara feels that matrimony, as an institution, would always smack of male chauvinism as long as there’s no female Pope. Her greatest dream is to tie the knot when the groom is in jumpers, shorts or long johns on the wedding day, officiated by a gay priest, sans the churchly rituals that suck.
By Sabreen Ahmed
As her memories faded in the darkness of her mind, she looked towards her future goal of nourishing her orphanage and finding the traces of Imran in some human space or form. Continued strife with life seemed no longer a chaos.
By Ajitabh Hazarika
It is precisely the plurality of exposure that the editor Kashyap tries to achieve within the corpus of this anthology.
By Muddasir Ramzan
The grief and regret that they couldn’t be there when Babb and Moji needed them the most would haunt Ammi, Maam Jan, Chota Maam, Pyari, and Choti Masi forever.
By Nupur Paliwal
Our Lady of Alice Bhatti is a groundbreaking work, compassionate and profound in its portrayal of seemingly ordinary Pakistani lives, setting itself apart from the author’s other explicitly political works.
By Madhu S. Nair
Damodaran nodded positive but he didn’t mean it. He was in a hurry to escape from the suffocation of blind love.
By Sunil Sharma
Glittering. Luminous. Blue alternating with tiny white. Sparkling dots tucked away in the vault above. Serene sky. A soothing moon beaming down.
By Tanvi Saraf
The ghost of my missing maid is floating above me, bobbing up and down against the bathroom ceiling, side by side with my deceased sense of worth. She bolted right before I was due to deliver my second-born.
By Vivek Nath Mishra
It was foolish to pamper this fear anymore. She agreed to what her husband had said. It took her time but it was worth it as finally a day came when she gave her consent to him to plant lotus.
By Anindita Das
The departmental stores in Kolkata appeared ‘tiny and crowded’ in comparison to Walmart or Sam’s. All of a sudden the crowd that he had grown up around seemed ‘intimidating’.
By Nishi Pulugurtha
Everyone was talking of the jhor. As I was eating rice, saag and fish, Dida told us about the jhor. She said it had a name, Amphan.
Cafe Dissensus Everyday 