As it is


By the time I finish telling my favourite umbrella story, we’ve managed to hail a taxi and gotten in. I knew it was going to be a story with a happy ending, you say.


Because the “other” is also always the “me”. The “other” is a reflection of who you are.

Temple goers

Over the last few months of being isolated at home, I’ve come to realise that if I have a religion, it is my solitude.

In fragments

Whining and grunting, I yank myself out of bed. It is yet another morning, and I’m not in the mood to exist.

One of the many

Why did we stick with them? Why did we wait for the end to come? One of us felt we had no choice. Maybe we hoped things would change.

Girls who could not love

One day, she wrote Titir a long letter and slipped it under her door. It didn’t occur to her that the move would only cause her object of dedication to further stiffen against her.

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