Dear Husband, I would be gone by the time you get this letter. I know you would be shattered, not because I am gone but because I dared to do something without your permission that maligns your ‘carefully built’ image.
The prompt for today is : Feature a day in your life or someone else's life. I feature the life of Lubna, a Syrian refugee woman living in a camp in the outskirts of Beirut, Lebanon
Professor Lubrik was sitting in his laboratory; his eyes were fixed on the map of Xangia, the new planet in Sunflower galaxy. The map had unique nomenclature.
She came to me slowly and said “I am getting married”. I felt as if the sky crashed on me. How could she do this to me?
This is probably first time am writing something personal on my blog. This post is on my son.
Trina didn’t feel like coming to work today. It was her birthday and she wanted to do something fun. Last night, before leaving she had a terrible fight with store manager Rohan. She was almost in tears. Rohan has this habit of unnecessarily screaming at her even if it is not her fault. Trina literally … Continue reading Flowers in the Storeroom
Every day, she came to my cafe exactly at 4pm. She had a petite frame and stooped while walking. She used to slowly walk towards the blue chair, pull it out, hang her umbrella from the backrest, sit down carefully and then open a book, usually the same book. I knew her food preference, cafe … Continue reading Old Lady and the Blue Chair
Shalini wrote her number and asked me to give it to Rohit. I tore the paper and wrote the number of a nearby public booth and gave him. I conveyed that Shalini wanted him to call at 2pm. At 2pm I was waiting at the booth. I knew he would call. The phone rang, perhaps … Continue reading Cross Connection
‘Why did you ask me to come here?’ asked Trina. ‘I love solitude’ replied Himu in his usual calm tone. ‘This place is secluded and dangerous, can we go somewhere else?’ said Trina. She seemed visibly irritated. ‘What are you scared of? This place or me?’ asked Himu, his gaze ripping apart Trina. ‘It is … Continue reading Love, love me do