As the COVID-19 pandemic ebbed away and life cautiously tiptoed back to its pre-pandemic rhythm, the gates of the ancient monastery continued to remain closed
Desperation hung heavy in the air as Reena pleaded, but the landlady’s words were callous – “Fortune favours only the fortunate, my dear!”
On the day of their son Tulsi Nair’s divorce, tension hung heavy in the air.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, Arjun, his mischievous nature in full swing, devised a scheme to trick the unsuspecting Annapurna sweet seller.
Upon learning of her mother’s terminal cancer diagnosis, Amelia devastated, took to Facebook to share cherished memories of their time together.
Rashbehari was mediocre in size, mediocre in looks, mediocre in knowledge and mediocre in intelligence. A truly mediocre character in other words. Sarasi, too, he
Bongshidhar was returning from the weekly market of Hajratpur. His both hands were loaded with goods purchased from the market. Usually, Bongshidhar didn’t need so
Sarasi didn’t have a particularly pretty face. A stub of a nose, an undulating forehead, small eyes. She had an extremely fair complexion but her
The day I ran after the Keteki, Deuta was not at home. But when I approached the big peepal tree I saw a rather dull-looking
Avik pulled the curtains and picked up his phone from the bed. No new messages. Not even one from the thirteen-odd WhatsApp groups he belongs
Now I see that he was blind with his love for me and depended on me to sustain him in his loneliness.
Shukria rose from the floor next to the wash basin with a slight grunt as her daughter, her partner in running this household of boys
Five couriers recount uncanny premonitions and vanishings, blurring coincidence and supernatural, leaving the narrator unsettled in a haunting mountain setting.
George reached for him, but was anticipated, for his brother sprawled flat on the pavement, oblivious to the dirt and to the curious glances of
The Heavenly Christmas Tree is a short story by the great Russian storyteller Fyodor Dostoyevsky. First published in 1876, the story is also known as
Ela poured herself coffee and started recording the jumbled, unformed ideas twirling in her head before they dissipated. Her hands moved fast. Her mind moved
