Think with body, mind, and soul..
After reading a 400-page book for the March prompt, I craved something lighter—a quick yet meaningful read. That’s when I stumbled upon Claire Keegan’s Small Things Like These. At just 85 pages, it intrigued me. Could a story so brief truly leave an impact? The answer is a resounding yes. This novella touched my soul. …
Continue reading "Book Review: Small Things Like These By Claire Keegan"
The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the city she once called home. Her heart raced as she climbed into a taxi, giving the driver the familiar instructions: "Khurda, near the old municipal park." The drive was a journey through time. The bustling roads and modern buildings felt alien to …
Later in the evening, Kasturi sat by the window, staring out at the sprawling cityscape. The warm glow of the evening sun bathed the room, but she felt no warmth—only the weight of a dilemma that had been gnawing at her ever since her boss had suggested the trip to Delhi. "Relive the past?" she …
The phone rang twice before Meena picked it up, a half-filled cup of chai still warm in her other hand. “Ms. M. Ray?” “Yes, speaking.” “This is Anuja from RedLeaf Publishing. I'm delighted to inform you… Your manuscript has been accepted.” Meena blinked. “Oh,” she said, stunned. “Really?” “Yes! The team loved it. It’s deeply …
Houston, Texas, 1991 Kasturi had built a good life for herself in Houston. It hadn’t been easy—those early years were full of awkward introductions, strange food, mispronounced names, and the constant ache of being in-between worlds. But over time, she found her rhythm. "That’s not going to work, Matthew," Kasturi said firmly, her voice cutting …
Time has its own way of moving on — quietly, unapologetically, and without asking for permission. The letters still came, at first. Folded in familiar handwriting, carrying the weight of memories, each one a little bridge across continents. But then… life began to stretch those bridges. A day passed without a letter. Then a week. …
"Meena,I miss you. Every single day.America is… different. Big cars, big houses, big everything. But it’s not home. Not like our small gali, not like our rooftop where we watched kites fly.I thought of writing to you sooner, but it was really difficult settling in and I felt lost in a new land.Are you?Please write …
It was early morning when someone banged on the gates of the DM’s bungalow. The sound echoed through the quiet, tense air, jolting everyone awake. A guard rushed to open it, hand on his rifle, eyes wary. “It’s over,” the man at the gate said, breathless. His clothes were covered in dust, his face smeared …
The night outside was restless. Chants rose and fell like crashing waves, distant yet deafening in the silence of the DM’s bungalow. The once lively neighborhood had turned into a battlefield, its warmth replaced by the cold shadow of fear. Inside, families huddled together, whispering prayers under their breath. Meena sat with her mother, gripping …
At 4 AM, the doorbell rang. A sharp, urgent sound that cut through the heavy silence of the night. Mrs. Ghosh sat up with a start, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. Who could it be at this hour? She hesitated, gripping the edge of her saree, her mind racing through possibilities. The riots… the …
Cerebration 