The voice was familiar. Warm like winter sun on old skin. It came from a low-lit room in a small, sleepy town called Rewa, where time didn’t move. It sighed. Aman lived there. Fifty-four. Unmarried. Untroubled by it in public, disturbed by it in the shadows of his heart. He had grown to accept solitudeContinue reading “Nameless Skies”
Tag Archives: writing
The Space Between
In a city where the sea whispered secrets to stones and local trains hummed like restless dreams, lived two strangers—bound not by fate, but by a series of delicate, echoing coincidences. Nikhil woke every morning at exactly 6:47 a.m.—not because his phone buzzed, but because a koel sang outside his window with stubborn punctuality. AcrossContinue reading “The Space Between”
The Second Crime
Marine Drive never sleeps, but that night, it fell silent. A black BMW X7 stood by the promenade, door ajar, rain pouring like judgment from the heavens. The corpse of Vinod Pawar, Aditya Khanna’s driver, slumped in the front seat with a bullet lodged in his temple. Rain blurred the blood but couldn’t wash awayContinue reading “The Second Crime”
Window Seat (…because sometimes the journey is the destination)
The train platform in Delhi was its usual orchestra of chaos—hawkers shouting, tannoys stuttering names of distant cities, the metallic clang of wheels, the stink of hot food and warm metal. Nikhil walked through it like a man out of time, unbothered. A duffel bag hung from one shoulder, its strap slipping slightly with everyContinue reading “Window Seat (…because sometimes the journey is the destination)”
Monsoon Highway
When Nikhil Arora lost his job at the advertising agency in Lower Parel, the monsoon had just started to scream across Bombay like a woman scorned. He didn’t even take the elevator down from the 15th floor. Just left his resignation letter and a half-drunk cutting chai on his desk and walked into the rainContinue reading “Monsoon Highway”
The Waiting Room
The railway station was almost forgotten—by the trains, by time, by the world. The tiles were cracked like old skin, the signs faded to near whispers of color, and the air tasted of rust and dampness. Weeds rose defiantly through the tracks, stubborn and alive in a place long left behind. Morning light spilled acrossContinue reading “The Waiting Room”
The Runaway Hearts
It was a sweltering June afternoon in Jaipur, and Nikhil sat across from Aditi at their usual tea stall, watching her talk animatedly about some random movie scene while he smiled and nodded, but didn’t really hear a word. Because Nikhil was in love. With Aditi. He had been for years, ever since they metContinue reading “The Runaway Hearts”
Table For Two
Every morning, without fail, he came in at exactly 8:13 a.m. Aarya had been running her tiny café in Bandra for just over six months when she first noticed him. In a crowd of chatty students, remote workers, and backpack-wearing tourists, he stood out. Always dressed in a crisp white linen shirt and a charcoalContinue reading “Table For Two”
The Hitman
It was late afternoon in Mumbai. The sky over Marine Drive simmered with gold and grime—bright enough for comfort, hazy enough for clarity. A man sat on an old concrete bench near the rocks, the sea whispering secrets behind him. His jacket was too thick for April, but it hid the silenced automatic tucked neatly underContinue reading “The Hitman”
Your Life
A slight drizzle fell over Kolkata, casting the city in a humid haze as Sudeep walked past the narrow alleyways of College Street. Bookstores lined the street like forgotten relics of an older time, their wooden shelves brimming with worn-out novels, some stacked on the pavement for display. On days like this, when the burdenContinue reading “Your Life”
Words are flowing out... 