Join our amazing community of book lovers and get the latest stories doing the rounds.

We respect your privacy and promise no spam. We’ll send you occasional writing tips and advice. You can unsubscribe at any time.


Sharmila Bhattacharjee (OMAN)


It was late at night. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back. The pain seemed to be crawling surreptitiously towards my distended belly. I flung back my blanket and emerged from the cocoon of warmth that had swathed me all this time and had lulled me into a fitful sleep just a couple of hours back. The cold air with the early November bite of approaching winter in Delhi pounced upon me like an unleashed animal. I had to ignore the chill; I knew, this was it, it was coming. The past few days were such a whirlwind of confusion, rage and fear,all jumbled up like a concert gone haywire. I was in the ninth month of my pregnancy and was spending the last few days of my third trimester in my parents’ home in South Delhi. Rupu (short for Rupankar) was with me too, being my first…