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espresso shots

Rambles, Rhymes and Tales


Rap on the door. The seven year old no longer had to be told what to do – she was now well-trained. She raced up to the terrace, carrying Zoya. The terrace was uncommon – it had an enormous crater in the middle, caused by an object thrown from hovering helicopters. A story by our guest writer Swaroopa Lahiri.  It happened during monsoon because the very next day, she had released paper boats in the hollow rain pool and watched…

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Espresso Shots

rainy days and sundays

“bzzzzzzzzzz!” it was the carpenter bee. black and rotund and a little hazy as it whirred about and dashed against the blooms of the bright yellow trumpet flower. “oh, up early today i see!” exclaimed the lavender mauvely, it was the nearest to the blues it could get. “let it be… let it be…! let it beeeee…” replied the carpenter bee, he had a thing for punning. no one ever said a bee couldn’t, after all. lavender rolled its spikes,…

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a winter afternoon : a story

she stood on the third floor balcony, looking out at nothing actually. it was a bright day, there was a faint chill in the air even though everyone said winter was over. anyway, winter this year had not been that cold, she thought distractedly, although shurjo had as always worn his wool cap from the first day of november. every year, sometime in the middle of october, he pulled out his two balaclavas and had them washed. one was dull…

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