Classic Yentha Stories: First published in yentha.com this widely acclaimed narrative gem is all about people who are very close to the writer. A photograph can capture a landscape in a frame, but it can rarely soak up the truth people hold back even as they pose for the camera. Divya keeps one such photo in her wedding album. “I didn’t know why my mother looked so upset on one of the most important days in my life,” she says, … Continue reading
“Manu.” “Yes.” “You must write about alcohol in your site with caution. Your father died of it.” “What!” “He used to drink a lot, didn’t he?” “No.” “No? But everyone knows that.” “Who is this everyone? Couldn’t be his friends because he had none. The only other person who knows him better than me is my mother. Did she tell you?” My colleague shook his head, as if his friend was so stupid to understand what exactly caused his father’s … Continue reading
This is the final part of the series, ‘Anybody got Cycleballs?’ “We are going to watch television in Udayan’s house. Are you coming, Manu?” when my friend invited me to see the first television(not the program) of my life I hardly knew what it was. Without second thoughts I dashed off to that house in our neighbourhood. I sat on the mosaic floor near my friends with my eyes glued to the petite human figures running after a ball inside … Continue reading
(Continued from Part I) How many hours did you spend waiting for those trunk calls to reach across? The majority religiously stuck to the blue inland to unbosom love, tears and advices. I still remember my grandma’s almost illegible tear-stained words on an inland as she told her son not to bother sending her any more money. Where are the grandmas now? How do they tell they care without those blue papers now? Come Christmas, we touched one another with … Continue reading
