A man was crossing the platoon-fields fast. Up ahead lay the level-crossing. He was aiming to cross the railway yard adjoining the level crossing. Perhaps, he had thought that he would be safe once he reaches the Nazia Bazaar area. No one can be seen near or far away. Everything is empty, like a desert. At a distance lay a[Read More...]
Once upon a time there was a village called Jaampur. This village was dominated by a few powerful persons, the headman and some moneylenders who took away a big part of the produce of the hard work of people. Whether it was farming or forests or quarries , these few big men were dominant everywhere. However more recently people fed[Read More...]
Sub-inspector Kuttan Pillai lived with illusions about himself. The only realistic self-analysis understood by Kuttan Pillai was that he was not an efficient or good policeman – neither to the expectations of the structure of the police machinery nor to the concerns of the people. He always felt that his uniform was a barrier for his creative search. To overcome[Read More...]
Puta Bhatta Jataka. The Buddha himself had narrated this story to a married couple. He had waited for them ‘like a hunter on the trail’ in his monastery cell in Jetvana, wishing to teach the husband a few lessons in gender equity. I read the Buddha’s skeletal story of his past birth enough times to know every word of it.[Read More...]
The post The difference appeared first on Countercurrents.
“Minister, we have some stunning news,” the secretary panted out as he rushed into the minister’s office. The minister was not pleased at this abrupt entrance. It was a busy day, and as the person in charge for enforcement of the new Citizenship Amendment Act, he had a lot to do. “What is it,” he curtly asked. “Sir, this[Read More...]
They all called him Chotu. How and why the name came to stick, even he didn’t know. He wasn’t short. As an Indian, he was average in height. But he wasn’t an Indian, or was he? Well, even that wasn’t clear to him. The other day, the fat clerk at the aadhar office had refused to give a form because[Read More...]
The post Chotu, the homeless appeared first on Countercurrents.
I Greetings Guruji. We have been waiting for you anxiously since morning. What happened? Why are you so late? Oh, I see. The road accidents have now become daily occurrence. God knows when the new highway is going to be completed. Until then it will go on like this. So how long was the jam did you say? Three hours?[Read More...]
With this collection of short stories, Imtiaz Akhtar makes his bold debut. Kafka Sutra is the sort of book that as a teenager, I would have loved to sneak from my mother’s shelf, and that as a mother, I would secretly enjoy letting my daughter or son whisk away.
This story is of a Canadian woman who prefers to stay anonymous: ……………………………………………….. My story: First, let me explain the whole matter from a personal viewpoint simply because my awareness of Palestine and the …
Booom! And I felt the earthquake under my butt. I jumped up like crazy and the sand was sprayed on the food table that was laid between us! Unbelievable! Even right now I don’t know how did that happen; a …
