It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon. The television sets in the various apartments nearby were silent. It seemed everybody was having an afternoon siesta. A man stood at the door of a ground-floor apartment in Kolkata. He was wearing a T-shirt hanging outside his trousers. His name was Raju ‘Pehelwan’ Das. The door was closed, and he was in the bedroom. He took off his T-shirt and placed it on the clothes stand. He then changed into white shorts. He has thick biceps and triceps. A smooth brown body. Entering the kitchen, he opened the fridge, took out the Tropicana juice, and filled a glass with it. He sipped from it as he moved to the living room and switched on the TV. Aware that there was silence all around, he kept the volume on low and watched an English film on Netflix. Pehelwan was a hitman for an underworld…
The beginning of last year brought a smile to our faces. We gained parenthood again after 11 years! The difference between our two kids…
Mr Amos’s playing was gentle now, though I knew he was only working up to the point where he’d be banging on the keys…
Winston laid his head on the car window, allowing it to slam repeatedly against the car door. It brought him a strange ease as…
Sarah and I sat outside the diner, milkshakes in hand— strawberry for her, chocolate for me. I never understood why people my age drank…
I slide the glass beaker with the back of my gloved hand. It flies over the edge of the bench. I’ve rehearsed my pitiful…
The scenic byway of Joshua Tree National Park could take as long as three hours to reach from Charlie’s rental in Pacific Palisades. But…
All men don’t mean only the men folks. It is a euphemism for “humanity”. You may not agree, but that’s the fact, all people are not…
It is Christmas time. There is Christmas music in the air coming from the lobby. As I look down from upstairs I see a…
It was the day after my ninth birthday. Being at the end of May the weather was decent, and my dad suggested a walk…
