It should not have been more than ten in the morning when my phone started chiming, quaking against the clapboard nightstand next to my bed. I rubbed my face in exasperation. My head was weighing the earths even at the unadorned consciousness I had gained at the slightest perusal of my phone's ringing. I could sense my brain ferociously pounding inside my skull in sickening gripes, already coupling with the hefty semblance. I have been there before –this brash headache and shaky sensation fumbling in me; maybe they'll break the spirits, when I have had a cup of coffee, ...Read More

I Want Some Real Human Interaction "Hey, Meena, hold on to this. I'll be back." Raghav declared, flinging leg to the front getting off his two-wheeler. Meena raised her brow at his impetuous action as she hastily shoved her mobile in her handbag, and tipped forward to clasp the handle bar. Thank heavens; she had not draped a saree in devotion to her colleague's wedding. It was only a salwar. Stamping both her feet firm against the plane of the road, she maneuvered to get a grip on the motor cycle, her sable eyes ...Read More

Himani was out of sleep at the raucous clang from outside her room. She just heard it. Startled the clamour she believed she'd heard, she stirred up on her bed. She was not able to figure out if it –the abrupt, fluky clang was real or she was just dreaming it, yet. Himani blinked her sleep hooded eyes, tuning her vision to the invading darkness. When she'd tucked the thick lock of hair behind her ear, availing her slumberous, frazzled self to fit the horrendous moment that'd commenced already, there was some more of it –the intense clang. But ...Read More

Wrapping up her work for the day, Khushi folded her laptop and crammed it inside her backpack before popping chiming reminder off, on her phone's display. Dosa batter, it read—it was a reminder she'd set to jog her memory to soak rice and urad dhal in order to get the week's batch of dosa batter ready. Had she been home at the time of her reminder, she'd have gleefully plugged away, doing the chore. Time was five-twenty five, on a Friday evening and she was still in office. There hadn't been a smallish interval for her to leave her ...Read More

Himani exited the bathroom, when delicate tufts of the sunlight had started faltering over the crinkled bed, seeping through window shields. Sauntering over to the windows, she pushed the screens apart as the balmy, luminous light glistened at her face. She dumped the used up clothes in the laundry basket and strolled up to her wardrobe, soft whorls of her lush hair skidding over her shoulders. She singled out her most favorite chef jacket that was tidy, wrinkle free and was hanging—the pearl gray one, with her name embroidered on the breast pocket, that her mom had gifted her ...Read More

"Hi Himani, Khushi here." When she apprehended Khushi over the phone, she was huddled into a bale of Himani, legs and arms crumpled to her body around in her clear, blue-grey blanket that matched the plush, fluffy floor bed, her mobile propped up against her ears with her pillows. She had no idea what time it was. She had not set an alarm for this morning—Himani usually benefitted a couple days off in a week—since, this week's saturday at her workplace was especially driven by her, she'd to rule out her routine and have a single off week. Yesterday ...Read More

Glossary: Pazhaiyedu/ Pazhaiaya Saadham/ Pazhaiya soru is traditional cooked rice soaked in water overnight and eaten the next day breakfast. It can also be drained and eaten with plain yoghurt, and raw onions or green chillies for sides. It is one of the healthy and filling breakfasts. And ofcourse, there's no food wastage in case of leftovers. *** Water wastage figure in Chennai is about twenty percent. We have to act now to save the future. Change can begin with small measures such as turning off the tap while brushing your teeth, fixing leaks, using low discharge toilets and ...Read More

7. Cupids Can't Be Everywhere "Himani, Can I have a T-rex dosa, please?" Vidhyut apprised, peeping up at through his glasses, as he nibbled on the last piece of dosa on his plate, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen countertop. Across him was Hrutvi, stalled as same as he was, silently dabbing her dosa on the puddle of chutney and jamming it in her mouth. "Could you please make me a red velvet dosa, Himani?" She piped out to Himani, munching on her token of dosa. Himani cast a look out at them, beaming, as she flipped the dosa and ...Read More