The Twilight games of the kids filled the air, one can hear their laughter, energetic shouts as well as see their mothers gather and talk about their daily struggles of passing life. There was this playground that occasionally appeared during the driest summers that we had when the heavy river dried up a bit. A small patch of land, which in a blink of an eye turned green, with lush grass.
Tag: ghost
Home, Not Alone
“Play something else yaar, I’m sick of Bon Jovi now,” I sighed in exasperation. It was perhaps the millionth time I’d heard Ankit play the same songs from the same album. “Sharanya, you’ve got to train your ears to listen to the beauty of-”, but before he could finish I threw my pillow at him. […]
The Crossbow Spirit
As the dry June crept in, I fumbled with watering the plants. My hands are now wrinkled, the remains of my youth are hidden inside like a sacred crest. The sun comes over every morning like an old friend and leaves at dusk with a warm goodbye. I am hollow of a person where once […]