There are spaces everywhere. Down to the smallest units of our universe, we learnt in school how fascinatingly the amount of space between atoms decided whether they would form rock solid or flow like water. We learnt that any space was malleable and vulnerable to change.
She pushed open the wooden latches and stepped into shadows bordering a penumbral spread appliquéd with golden patches. The chances of anyone coming to the far end of the house at this hour were minimal but even then she shut the door tightly behind her.
"Oh! No sir, don’t ask me as to how my wife died on that fateful day, almost 15 years back. It was this same monsoon time." Abrahim’s eyes started to look into the distant past, as if gazing beyond the hustle and bustle of this last platform of Pune Railway Station, where, I encountered him by chance.
Mani wasn't at college. Ashok came out of class during the lunch break and checked his mobile phone to find that he had missed a call from him. He dialed Mani's number. The voice that answered was a stranger's, gruff and formal. Thinking he had dialed the wrong number, Ashok was about to apologize and hang up, when the stranger spoke again.
They aimed the first blow at my head. It caught my turban and cracked it open; sunshine poured into the crevices of my head, breeze shushed through it, little bird claws scraped its edges, and my city metamorphosed.
The auto stopped at the traffic junction. The long, blue skirt was torn at the corner. “Amma, kuch do, amma”.
Anita was running as fast as she could. The man running behind her was tall and dark. He grabbed her waist and lifted her up. She hit his hands with tiny fists. They were about as ineffectual as a single cube of ice on fire.
The first gate whose lock I ever picked was a monstrosity of rusted iron and curling spikes. It was located on a leafy side street, sandwiched by an unassuming grey stone wall. The gate and the wall were both quite old , but the lock felt far older. The lock was, in truth, a disappointment to me.