Makhan was village mukhiya’s son. A tall, lean kid full of anger. He was the only kid for his parents and, It gave him the power to act like an asshole among his peers. People would call him junior Mukhiya Ji and, it will make his head high with pride. He was an eccentric and …
Category Archives: Fiction
Raju
Raju was seven years old when his father got remarried. He had lost his mother a few years back due to tuberculosis. She was the only person who took care of him. Raju was born without legs. Polio was at its peak, and children with deformed bodies were a common sight. As fate has it, …
Badi ma
Kids call her Badi maa; she is in her nineties. She had long white hair like a snow-covered mountain. She has been active, all senses in control. On top of this, she would cook daal roti for herself and consume it twice. Sometimes one of the son’s wife would get her some milk. Badi maa …
chowkidaar
Ram Singh, aka Ramu Bhaiya, was in his late 30’s. A hanuman devotee with chandan smeared on his forehead. His haircut was a signature army cut with a mustache reminded me of Ravan from the famous Ramayana serial telecasted on Doordarshan. He ran away from his family in Nepal for a job and life in …
kaun?
Nandkumar, we call him Nandu is a soft-spoken, wheatish, stout built. His mustache, Ray-Ban sunglasses, and bullet motorbike reminded me of Salman Khan’s Dabangg. Nandu cleared BPSC(Bihar public service commission) and posted as BDO in the nearby block from my hometown. Nandu’s father was a headmaster in the middle school in my village. I grew …
Fine
Apka fine Katega, shouted traffic constable. Kahe Sirji? I asked. Singal cross Kiya hai, he replied. I was rushing for my tuition class and, he was standing right next to the Jwalaheri Market crossing. The red lights hardly work, not today. The constable Gurjeet Singh Ji was adamant about putting a penalty. I was more …
Mili
Mili lived life on her own: like a butterfly, independent and break free. Money was in abundance, thanks to her parent’s medical profession. I met her at a friend’s party in Delhi, I guess in Lado Sarai barsaati(rooftop). I was impressed by her confidence, and it was she, not weed or alcohol. She told me …
hope
‘I have a girlfriend, stop marriage related conversation’; screamed Akash. It has been a daily sermon: anybody or everybody would end up giving him marriage counseling. Be it the milkman, maid, vegetable vendor, or barber. Akash is in his early 30’s and a well-groomed, small-time boy. He was among the early ones from his village …
faceless
You will find me everywhere: Traffic signals selling flowers, begging. At a restaurant serving your meals. At your home helping with cleaning and cooking. At midnight fixing potholes or before monsoon many fts down under cleaning sewage system. We are faceless; we have no voice. Police, politicians, people everyone considers us invisible. Nobody cares about …
IAS
I want to become an IAS officer, said Mahesh. A tall, healthy fellow wearing thick glasses welcomed me as I picked my Uber from the airport. I was returning from an early morning connecting flight from Mumbai. Mahesh is from western Karnataka and studying a bachelor’s in history from correspondence. He asked me where I …