There are no poor in Manampally…..at least not the type that was poor enough to work for a living. Or perhaps they did not subscribe to the principal of working for a living. Their principal argument against this fundamental expectation was the presence of the umpteen well-to-do gulf returnees in the land, all of who…
Category: Short Stories
Idiot’s Guide to Transcendence
Hrithika sat cross-legged under the Bodhi tree. Well, at least as much as her leg would cross itself. Lakshmi, the facilitator for the day, not only crossed her bare legs as the wind ruffled her hair, but had a strange boneless quality to it, as if they could collapse into multiple folds if there was…
Satan in a Pickle
Luc slithered into the garden of Eden, and waited for the length of his body to coil itself behind a bush. Even from the behind the cover of the dense bushes she was beautiful. Perhaps this would be the last time. The last time he ever saw her. Did he have the courage for it?…
Pinky and Commisioner Sasha
As a part of the “getting over all this shit” campaign, Pinky had decided that what she needed was a complete makeover, and as everyone knows, all makeovers begin with ones hair. That however, was a little difficult in Pinky’s case, given that she had already undergone too many makeovers and with the current state…
Yakshi (Part 2 of 2)
Continued from http://litlatte.com/2015/09/30/yakshi/ “So the number one rule is that all roads leading to Yakshi land must be pure gravel”, said Madhan as he drove his bike down a terribly bumpy path, a thick forest on either side. “Tarred roads are seemingly banned by the Yakshi queen, a great believer of exercise, so that the…
Snow white, the militant feminist Arab Activist
When the feminists of Tahirir square declared that Snow White of Poisoned Apple fame was to be the poster girl of the Islamic feminist Arab spring, there was an expectation of a second round of executions to prevent the raging movement that demanded everything from Hijabi beauty contests to robotic male drivers cast in form…
Meeting Zemm the Mattress (My Ode to Hitchhikers)
If I had a Altairan dollar for every loser I found on SeeSomeStars.com, I would be prematurely melting at the SuperNova countdown that new years. But mathematics never worked in such favorable ways, and this is how I found myself instead at another of Mother’s meteor shower, with all her barmy friends who had turned…
Amel Rahman 