Cicada (Short story)

  I have been asked for my story many times. There is nothing great about my own story, I am not the hero of any tale. My story is important because I was her brother, and who else would have a closer view of her. I was born during what is now called the Decline. …

Short fiction #75

If you ask me, when I first fell in love, I’d say it was at the Numaish. January’s cold had left us wrapped in warm sweaters and shawls, and as Muni and I walked through the lanes of the exhibition, with stalls selling exquisite Kashmiri silks, Lucknow embroidery, televisions, chaat, and that sticky pink cotton …