It was going to be a special day. Gudiya couldn’t sleep the night before 13 April 1919. The lantern had burnt off hours ago, and she found herself looking at the sky from her window. Winter had gone and summer was slowly starting to set in. She didn’t need to drape...
I pulled my jeans back on. They were damp, lying there on the floor, beside his oddly placed slow cooker (brewing something tomato-based, deep and red) and balled-up socks. Later, I would wash the denim carefully, but still it would shrink. Cheerily, tasting yellow at...
It was the coldest day of that winter. The rumble of the last bus to Hazaribagh town slowly became louder. It could be seen turning around the bend in the road. The bus stand was at the edge of the town. On all sides, as far as the eye could see, were vast empty...
They say when someone dies they leave a hole in your heart, but I don’t think that’s true. Instead, they add something to your heart. It has the shape and weight of a large boulder, and it’s forever in the way. It makes it hard for your heart to keep working....
I come for everyone alike, although they imagine me quite differently. Most think of me as brutal: I am, to their minds, a dark spectre sent to punish them. I come heralded by a knock on the door or the ringing of bells, tolling and knocking as a personal affront to...
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