It was a rainy morning in Mumbai when Mohenamabal arrived and brought with her more cheer to a city that was drowning under the onslaught of the monsoons. She was Athimber's distant aunt. To a 14-year-old, she looked like she was a hundred years old. She was also completely bald and covered it with the pallu of her saffron-coloured saree.
While everyone around him called him ‘Destiny’s Favorite Child’ – he hated that phrase. But it was his mother’s using the phrase to describe him that made him livid.
Roopa Swaminathan writes a short story for Outlook on friendship of two people who are worlds apart from each other and how their differences play out.
Anirudh Sethi was truly the best dad. So said everyone on 5th Avenue, Koregaon Park, Pune, where the Sethis had lived the past two decades.
I did own a jolnapai, a gift from appa. He outgrew his pair of black-but-fast-turning-grey polyester pants and so he took them to a tailor a few blocks down the road and had them sewn into two jolnapais. One for him. One for me: A short fiction by Roopa Swaminathan opens up her memories.
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