The Umbrella Repair Shop
It started raining just as I stepped out. A proper, old-fashioned rain — the kind that doesn’t drizzle politely but...
It started raining just as I stepped out. A proper, old-fashioned rain — the kind that doesn’t drizzle politely but...
My flight to Amritsar landed at 12:30 pm.With admirable optimism and accurate mathematics, I assumed I would reach the hotel...
When Swami walked into the café last Sunday, he wasn’t looking at us. He was staring at his wrist. “Sixty-eight,”...
A few days back, I travelled overnight by train after a very long time. Trains were commonplace while in college...
There is this quintessential image of a writer trying to write at his desk but unable to. A pile of...
Swami was fidgeting even before we entered the terminal. The line to get inside stretched across the lobby, people shifting...
There’s a small barber shop near the corner of my street. In fact, a few have popped up over the...
When I entered the café a bit late last week, I saw Swami was staring at his phone like it...
When I feel as if I am under-appreciated and under-read or I am pining for whatever external validation I might...