Editor’s Choice: There was once a little girl who was the daughter of the streets. On the streets she had rolled, crawled, taken her first baby steps and eaten the first rotten morsel of food.
Author: latikapayak
That boy at the signal
His dirty hands left marks on the rexine of white of her purse. The rickshaw wallah was eyeing the scene from his rear view mirror. Reva’s trembling ‘No!’ had caught his attention
Pink Frock and Blue Shirt
This, my friend, is the story of an evening. And evening when it rained. Pitter-patter pitter-patter. On the roofs, on the roads, on the cars, on the umbrellas and even on the heads of those who were attempting a frog kiss.
