Tag Archives: Survival

Tea and Biscuits

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Her name was Poonam… we called her Mrs. P. She was our landlady; my husband of one month and I. In retrospect, I cannot decide which feeling predominates when I think of her: rolling-on-the-floor amusement or I-wanna-dismember-you-with-a rusty-Rampuri ire. Scales tilting towards the former methinks. Yes… definitely. She was a middle aged lady and since I was young those days,… Read more »

It Could Have Been Me

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I had been married three years on that sultry June afternoon. Delhi and I had come to the conclusion that we couldn’t get along. We parted ways with equal determination on both sides. We still cordially loath each other, which is very fine with me. I relocated to my hometown while my ex was still reluctant to leave Delhi and… Read more »

A Survivor’s Manual

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Wounds that drip blood are colorful. Their bloodless counterparts, though more painful, are boring. They have no drama value. I am talking of the wounds we suffer inside. The bruises of the mind, the lacerations of the heart and the battering of the soul. The wounds on our non-physical persona are invisible. They throb with crippling pain, but they are… Read more »