Turkey! (2)

Day 2. Waking up to the call of azaan for fajr, (last count put Istanbul being home to 3,000 mosques, approximately) the realisation dawned that I was starting to lose my voice – the lump in the throat on the flight couldn’t be diagnosed as misplaced nerves anymore. Turkish Kreps and their fantastic version ofContinue reading “Turkey! (2)”

Bloodied wings.

“No one can build you the bridge on which you, and only you, must cross the river of life. … There is one path in the world that none can walk but you. Where does it lead? Don’t ask, walk!” ~ Nietzsche.   Out my grilled windows of opportunity, I eyed the wings hung outContinue reading “Bloodied wings.”

The Cycling Chronicles.

What do I have in common with Lance Armstrong? Greg LeMond? Peter Sagan? Nothing at all. Except that they are some of the best cyclists humankind has known and I might probably be one of the worst. Or let me just be modest and say, humankind might see me as a person who’s awkwardly seated,Continue reading “The Cycling Chronicles.”

Mugger.

He heaved deep breaths, silently. The room was lit up and the windows closed. How do I know this, he thought. He re-traced the conclusions his brain had arrived at. He couldn’t turn around but the steel mug placed in front of him reflected a light source, looked like a bulb. If he tilted hisContinue reading “Mugger.”

Plunged into darkness.

Sudipto was driving home late one night – later than usual, at least. The clock was ticking closer to welcoming the new day. The roads, broad and empty of the never-ending stream of cars, lit with street lamps on both sides, white and blue fairy lights trailing the silver poles. There were no buildings, noContinue reading “Plunged into darkness.”

The House That Wasn’t.

“What is it that is stopping you?” she asked. “Come on in! I am sure the place isn’t haunted.” He stepped in. His torch was slipping from his hands due to sweat. In the eerie silence of the house, the buzzing quiet of the night outside seemed favorable. All those stories he’s heard in hisContinue reading “The House That Wasn’t.”

Why? Oh why?

Often, things don’t make sense. Why does the Sun rise every day to set? Why do the flowers bloom only to be plucked by mischievous little bratty hands or to be offered at the feet of stone idols of the same Gods who created them in the very first place? Why are examinations more valued thanContinue reading “Why? Oh why?”

Sacrifice.

In the One Word – Many Moments Flash Fiction series, Previous Word : Rain. She was bawling! He tried asking her what happened. Their mother shushed him. “This is for you, Mary. You only get to play with this,” the mother said to her crying child. “What happened, Mom?” “She wants the train your Daddy boughtContinue reading “Sacrifice.”