Short Story

By Priyansh Singh James woke to the dreaded sound of his alarm clock ringing. He lifted his head… and let it fall down again. The next time he woke up, he just about managed to look at his clock, he jumped out of covers like a cat with a pin in its bottom. It was 7:30! And school began at forty-five! He put a pair of trousers and a shirt on, quite forgetting to brush his teeth, take a bath, or even eat breakfast. He threw on his backpack, grabbed the keys, and rushed out the

By Priyansh Singh I got down from the bus. It roared off, blowing hot air into my face. I began to walk home. The bus would have taken me further if not for some construction underway near my house. Never mind, it was only a ten minutes’ walk. As I walked, there was nothing to it to notice that I was completely alone. The only sound was the echo of my shoes against the pavement. Those too seemed hollow and dull. I shivered. Such isolation was spookier than I liked it. I sped

By Priyansh Singh I’m sure it’s happened to everyone before. You’re almost done writing that really long email you had to finish when- boop -your system shuts down because you thought the charger could wait. This had to be the fifth time today. I sighed and looked at the clock above. Working overtime didn’t pay, but it was becoming a habit at this point. I supposed it was fine as Christmas was around the corner, although it had never looked farther. The email wasn’t going to

By Bhavya Srivastava Samuel, the fisherman's son from the coastal village of Wolfden, always felt the call of the sea. Growing up, he was enchanted by the symphony of waves crashing against the shore. His father, Kenith, a humble fisherman, didn't understand Samuel's fascination with music but supported his dreams. Samuel believed that the ocean held a melody, a song of its own, waiting to be discovered. He often took a small notebook with him, jotting down the rhythms and ha

By Bhavya Srivastava Once in a small village, at the edge of an enchanted forest, there was a group of friends who loved playing football. Every day after school, they would gather at the park to kick the ball around. One sunny afternoon, while playing their favourite game, the ball accidentally got kicked into a dense forest nearby. Curiosity got the better of the friends, and they decided to venture into the forest to retrieve their precious ball. As they entered, they were

By Bhavya Srivastava In the early 2000s, life was simpler. People relied on face-to-face communication and enjoyed meaningful interactions without the distractions of modern technology. With hair as dark as midnight and eyes that sparkled like stars, Elara possessed a spirit as adventurous as the winds that swept through the valley. Elara lived in a creaky old house nestled amidst the towering trees in a forest, where the walls whispered tales of days gone by and Elara couldn

By Bhavya Srivastava The morning sun bathed the countryside in golden light as Anaya stepped out of the car. The fresh air was so different from the smoggy, crowded city she was used to. She looked at the vast fields stretching out before her, the rolling hills covered in greenery, and the bright blue sky without a single sign of pollution. Birds chirped cheerfully, and the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. It was a world untouched by noise, traffic, and tall concrete bu

By Bhavya Srivastava Elian was eleven. Not the space kind — his parents had just picked a name they thought sounded magical. And maybe it was. But that didn’t help much the day he got lost. It happened on a family trip — a cruise near the coral islands. The sea was loud, wind wild. His mother held his hand tightly on deck, but the storm came too fast. A sudden lurch. A scream. Foam swallowed the world. And Elian was gone. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on warm sand. Hi

By Sai Adithi She stood amidst the wandering crowd, defeated by her own actions. No amount of training could have prepared her for the disappointment she felt. She walked into that room knowing very well she was going to lose. She had accepted her fate. Then, where was this disappointment coming from? Maybe it was because of the guilt she felt when she looked at her parents. Maybe it was because she saw the hope in their eyes die the moment they looked at her. It broke her he

By Hrishit Pandey “Did you hear it?” asked Samay, in a voice even fainter than the hum….‘You are even fainter this time…?’Then followed the answer, as if repeating it twice in an identical hum, but this time louder and much clearer… Yes, but that was the problem….‘Hmmmm….. Hmmm.. Hmmm..Hmmmmm…’ was the tune that flew past them.. Right through them. As if piercing its way… Caressing the skin to arouse them while doing so… It seemed as a lullaby, but as unmusical as it could ha

By Hrishit Pandey The sky shared its palette with yellow which has now completely engulfed it. There existed no other colour in sight. It was the complete dominance of yellow as it enshrined the sky into an endless sea of itself. The horizon can be seen diffused between the shades of light yellow and a hue of dark yellow. Together they still upheld the homogeneity of the sky to match as it appeared closer to the observer. It was a very vast expanse. But it was not throughout.

By Hrishit Pandey I opened the door and entered the aisle of urinals. I turned right in an air tight room, locked with ventilation suffocating around the narrow window as I passed it to find myself facing the urinals. Six beautiful, shiny and clean urinals - hanging down the wall were beside me at both my sides. Corporate - urinals are employed heavily round the day, even nights sometimes. With those naphthalene balls and caffeine powder at work, they take in both the load an

By Hrishit Pandey It was a dark night. Cold. Bleak. Dead night. But here I am - by nature a lively and energetic rooster. Running down the street. Like a mad animal. Where is my boy? I wondered as I traced down the restricted pathways. My son - he has not been home today. His mother is stressed about her boy. I am not stressed. The night and its attributes tried their best to reflect into me their effects. But I won’t be affected as an excess of liveliness is contained within

By Hrishit Pandey <SHOE> Ivory; natural as if the paint was sucked out of the grandest archaeological marvel - to dress me. My majestic vamp - the shiny matte of white; smart and striking. Just as expected. My long lushy laces with an undertone of white precisely analogous to my clothing. My sharp body was without a single mark, single-handedly redeeming the ground from the other lousy bodies that put dirt on its inanimate surface. There is life in my color, my every step pro

By Hrishit Pandey I was lying in a dark room. Dark space - on a ground. Cemented ground. Marbled. Tiled in places too. Ever since I became aware of the fact that I have awareness - I have been lying here. There is no concept of time for me - only space. I have always existed here. I am a mattress. An uncovered one. Still lacking an active mahogany suitor of four legs. To take me off where I am. To change my space. To maybe change me? I was the kind which accommodates for the

By Hrishit Pandey In the break of the night and at the brim of morning this night unfolds. This involves a wife and a husband who have been living together for some time now. With time dependencies change, responsibilities change, interests change, desires change, aims change, hopes change and people change. It is one such change that drives the exposition of this tale. The husband lay down quietly on the bed. His body felt stiff, with every change of side the bitterness that

By Hrishit Pandey I happened to be alive. I happened to be aware and hoped to be conscious and in control of myself when I decided to visit D2. What is D2? Where is D2? It’s nowhere. Nowhere can be anywhere; anywhere with no name attached to it, anywhere that’s not anticipating to be noticed, anywhere that is desperate for your attention, anywhere may be beyond within or within beyond, or it may just be no where. What I did was – give a stage to my imagination and let it crea

By Kalika Kochhar I walked home from my ballet class and all I could think about was that Tuesday night two months ago. My eyes were on the road ahead but my mind was stuck in a loop. It was supposed to be one of the most exciting days at that time. Dad had gone on a business trip to Dubai for his upcoming restaurant and was going to be home that day. My thirteen-year-old self didn’t understand much about how business worked, but, from my limited knowledge, getting investors

By Kalika Kochhar I woke up to the sound of my husband having a shower. The constant flow of water, the sound of the shampoo bottle being put down, and, the soft syllables of his favourite song that he uttered. I sat up in bed, and cried. I cried for two minutes at the fact that I didn’t feel like joining him in the shower anymore. I cried at the fact that we had been together for twelve years and we were great roommates who worked like clockwork together, and yet, we had gro

By Sweta Mishra Chapter One: The Photograph The city outside my window never sleeps. But tonight, it feels like even the lights of Bangalore can’t reach the corners of my heart. I sit on the floor of my apartment, back against the bed, a cup of tea gone cold beside me. The hum of distant traffic fills the silence I’ve grown used to. Papers from today’s audit files lie scattered across the table, but my mind isn’t there. My eyes rest on a photograph that slipped out of an old