The whirring sound of the fan in my counselling chamber broke the silence between us. I could see her nervously twirling the ends of her dupatta. Through my acumen and experience as a psychologist, I knew it to be a
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Disclaimer: The characters in the story are fictitious and bear no resemblance to the original historical characters. The warm glow of the spotlights in the Birchwood auditorium where we were shooting for Julius Caesar’s play covered me with warmth and
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THE BLAME The monotonous whirring sound of the old fan in my room made me shiver with irritation. Sweat beads creased my brow as I looked up at it and then down at the rusty blade in my hand. The
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AT SIXTY-FIVE Manohar sat on the edge of the ragged cliff looking at the imposing Himalayan mountains far away. The spongy clouds had just parted company with them to sail across the cerulean sky along with the little gusts of
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