The short story captures the resilience of the human spirit and the redemptive power of ambition.
Author: Pulkit Singh
Amateur writer. Potential ninja. Ex-Googler. Woman on a mission. Chai afficionado. Reader. Words guzzler. Universe lover. Mother.
A Case for Chaos
Does chaos breed creativity?
I Met An Old Friend…
How meeting people you knew from your past is such a healing experience.
Autumn
Which is your favorite season? Pulkit Singh tries to capture the autumn vibes. Does she succeed?
When The Best Years of Your Life Are Behind You
Pulkit Singh tries to find meaning in what she feels may be the end of the road for her.
On Harder Battles & Courage
No Appetite For Seconds
We called it our aeroplane. The epithet was misplaced. It should have been rocket- equally temperamental and majestic. That was my father’s white ambassador- his first car. It looked massive to my six-year-old self. You could roll down the dark tinted windows, honk its horn, play hide and seek in it and if you were … Continue reading No Appetite For Seconds
Atlas Of A Marriage
Pulkit Singh dedicates this poem to her marriage of ten years.
She Saves Herself In This One…
Why go searching for Knights?
Thirties
The teens and the twenties are the price we pay for the thirties.
Echoes In My Freezer
Those evenings were a proof of a love that I have never known since...
Vicarious Vacationist
All she wants is to travel. Why is that so hard?
December
The relentless march of the year ends with this.
What Gives
The only way is forward. Yes?
Where Had You Been?
Snow
The heart wants what it wants.
Silver
An uninspired life. And an empty night. What does one do?
Mishti Dhana- A Short Story
Jigyansa Mohanty writes a beautiful short story about a girl whose father has died recently but who still have to go ahead with her marriage preparations. Will she be able to set aside her grief and fulfill her father's last wish. Read more to find out.
Some Days….
Some days life surprises us with the most beautiful gifts.
The Quiet
There is a shelf. Where her dreams go to die. Wrapped with expensive gift paper. Coated liberally with the colours of psycedelia. Death is nothing, if not beautiful, eh? There is a shelf. Browse along. There is that one peeking from behind the cascading 'string of pearls' the one where captured movement and memories in … Continue reading The Quiet
BlueSunride 