Walking Back Home

There he was, waiting for her at the bus stop, with a reassuring smile on his face, wearing his white Nike sneakers and wielding the polished black walking stick. For Anwesha, her grandfather or Ajoba as she called him, was the only one who could answer all her questions eagerly. The others never understood or … Continue reading Walking Back Home



A single drop of tear slid down her cheek as she stood waving at the train. Her closest friend was returning home after a long stay with her. This was probably the last time she would see him in Hyderabad, probably the last time he would give her a quick surprise, probably the last time she … Continue reading Transition.