Reading Time: 2 minutesArjun loved Saturday mornings. That was when the boys from the Greenwood Society gathered at the small ground behind the water tank for football. No coach, no whistle — just six boys, a worn ball, and two jumpers for goalposts. Today’s match was tied, 2-2. Whoever scored next would win
Reading Time: < 1 minuteRaju and Babu were twins, but the two mango trees in their orchard were nothing alike. Raju’s tree stood tall by the well, heavy with fruit every season. Babu’s tree grew near the fence, smaller, with only a handful of mangoes each year. “Look how many I have!” Raju said
Reading Time: 2 minutesAarav was the shortest boy in his class, and by a fair margin the shortest player on the team. “You’ll get knocked over,” his classmate Rehan said during warm-up, not unkindly, just stating what seemed obvious. “Bigger boys play forward. You should try being a goalkeeper.” Aarav didn’t say anything
Reading Time: 2 minutesVivaan had been made captain three weeks ago, and he had a plan for everything. He decided who took corners. He decided the warm-up drills. He decided that Sahil, their fastest player, should always play on the right wing, no matter what Sahil thought about it. “I play better on
Reading Time: 2 minutesMeera was the only girl who played goalkeeper in the whole Ashok Nagar league. She didn’t mind. She liked diving for the ball more than running for it. “You’re playing Saturday,” Coach Deepa told her on Tuesday. “Final match. Don’t be late.” “I won’t,” Meera said. On Friday night, her
Reading Time: 3 minutesThe prison cell had no window. Vasudeva knew this because he had counted the stones in the wall so many times he could close his eyes and see every one. One hundred and forty-three stones. He had memorised each crack, each dark stain, each place where the mortar had crumbled
Reading Time: 2 minutesRohan was twenty-two years old and had just failed his third job interview. He sat on the steps outside the office building, his rejection letter folded in his pocket, watching the city move around him. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere fast. Suits and briefcases and phones pressed to ears.
Reading Time: 3 minutesDharamraj’s hands had made seven thousand saris. He could count them by the year, by the colour, by the weight of silk that moved through his loom like water. In Khejarla village, his name meant something. When a girl got married, her mother would ask: “Did you get Dharamraj’s work?”
Reading Time: 3 minutesRahul stood in the temple courtyard with his bow, unable to release the arrow. His hands trembled. His mind raced. The archery tournament was next week. He had trained for three years. But now, standing at the mark, all he could think was: What if I miss? What if I
Reading Time: 2 minutesThe clock on the wall said 5:47 AM. Outside the kitchen window, Mumbai was still sleeping under a blanket of grey monsoon clouds. Vijay sat at the wooden dining table, his cold coffee untouched for forty minutes. Across from him sat his father, Ashok, who was not supposed to be
