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Conversion of sorts!

Nodding, I walked back, towards home… I opened the window to let in some fresh air but what came in the way were those dengue warnings f...

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Kashmir Valley’s Rafeeqa Khatoon

I had no choice but to walk on. But the weight of the apple stuffed bag was getting on my nerves, writes Humra Quraishi&n...

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Mr and Mrs Inn

After what seemed an hour, the rain fury finally gave way to just about a drizzle. Not letting the puddles coming in way, I rushed towards the ...

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Shahryar and those sharks

 “As I stood there, I could see Shahryar walking around. And even as I kept calling out to him, he didn’t respond. Perhaps, di...

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Why not a full-fledged one!

With my father it was different, as blood bonding had taken care of that  connectivity with all those murmurs and mutters he’d come ...

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THAT SHAWL

A short story by – Humra Quraishi,

As I was assembling the suitcases, Shams Shah breezed in. Dumped ...

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ONLY FRENCHMEN AND BENGALI’S ARE INTELLECTUALS

“The whisper more effective than the shout

The gentle rain

RIP Journalism

‘The vast wasteland of TV is not interested in producing a better mousetrap but in producing a worse mouse.’ -- Laurence C...

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Decoding Girl Talk

The sangeet ritual at an Indian wedding used to be a time for women to get together and sing traditional songs, away from th...

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Short stories that will make your day

“The journey of a lifetime starts with the turning of a page.” – Rachel Anders.

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