fiction
FICTION / An interview with Shakchunni
Behind the bangles that jingle ominously in the dark, there is a voice—a voice that has long been silenced
FICTION / The hawk and the mice
Bolstered, the six little mice lead their army up–up–up the trunk of the poor, ravaged oak they were so desperate to save.
The Box
She frantically whisper-screamed at him, “Stop yelling! And this is serious Fayaz, we need to find that box.
FICTION / Storm child
This is the third and final part of “Storm Child”, serialised here on Star Literature
FICTION / Exiles and memories
Markan didn't have an answer. The word "Arakan" felt distant, like something from a dream he couldn't quite remember
My love is lost, and I don’t want it anymore
Every time I enter it, this building carves out a tiny piece of my heart, leaving behind the sharp tang of hospital bleach and lemon-scented air freshener in its place.
FICTION / Alone beneath the mountains
His final sentiments were etched into the table before he succumbed to his final rest: "I found solace in the mountains. They demanded nothing and remained steadfast by my side."
FICTION / A night in Kalimpong
As I turn back, my eyes catch sight of what appears to be hands, but of a tan, furry kind, feeling its way inside the sliding doors
FICTION / Residence
I plead but I know there is nothing I can do. Akbar, in a rare fit of courage, tries to intervene. But the old man does not budge. Maybe he knows about Mina and me.
An interview with Shakchunni
Behind the bangles that jingle ominously in the dark, there is a voice—a voice that has long been silenced
The hawk and the mice
Bolstered, the six little mice lead their army up–up–up the trunk of the poor, ravaged oak they were so desperate to save.
The Box
She frantically whisper-screamed at him, “Stop yelling! And this is serious Fayaz, we need to find that box.
Storm child
This is the third and final part of “Storm Child”, serialised here on Star Literature
Exiles and memories
Markan didn't have an answer. The word "Arakan" felt distant, like something from a dream he couldn't quite remember
My love is lost, and I don’t want it anymore
Every time I enter it, this building carves out a tiny piece of my heart, leaving behind the sharp tang of hospital bleach and lemon-scented air freshener in its place.
Alone beneath the mountains
His final sentiments were etched into the table before he succumbed to his final rest: "I found solace in the mountains. They demanded nothing and remained steadfast by my side."
A night in Kalimpong
As I turn back, my eyes catch sight of what appears to be hands, but of a tan, furry kind, feeling its way inside the sliding doors
Residence
I plead but I know there is nothing I can do. Akbar, in a rare fit of courage, tries to intervene. But the old man does not budge. Maybe he knows about Mina and me.
City of bougainvillea
“The roads are too clean. The sun is too bright,” she thought.