Posts by Sarba Roy


We are all broken.   We all have that secret side which is weak, scared, bruised and imprisoned. We all know that, no matter how hard we try to pretend to be normal, we are insane in our own sweet little ways.   We tend to be like roses, all proper and sober, whereas wildflowers are what we actually are.   We have thousand voices whispering in our heads all

Of Love and Unpretentiousness

Love is not just saying nice things to each other with decent smiles, it is being raw and crazy, laughing uncontrollably at things which seem so mundane to the rest of the world.   Love is not just wordy promises and emotional ballads, it is the beginning of a lifetime of resilience to hold each other through bouts of depression, sickness, frustration and madness.   Love is not just about

The Purple Mango

Mangoes are not just fruits, they are tiny time machines. Each time I dig my teeth into a juicy mango, I am transported to the time when I used to lie awake on the rickety cot in the courtyard of my family home in the village during summer vacations, counting the stars during the long hours of power outage. I am reminded of my dear grandmother who used to sneak

The Science and Art of Love

Almost a decade back, your dreamy eyes had caught my attention and I was captivated by your deep baritone and beautiful mind. You chose equations over bikes, you looked at the skies dreamily with your hands dancing in the tune of some physics problem you were solving in your mind and in that precise moment, with my accelerating heartbeat I knew that I had fallen for you. “Can poetry and

The Serial Killer

Waking up from sleep, struggling in the congested bus for a lonesome seat, swiping the smart card and walking to a little cubicle with a workstation that stares at one with a familiar sense of boredom is hardly anyone’s childhood dream.   Yet, she lived with valour amidst souls who slogged continually, without any purpose like zombies, dragging their feet as they walked, sipping endless cups of coffee near the

Spices Of Life

The whiff of air heavy with the smell of raw onions and lemons along with the shrill voice of the hawker jolted me back to my senses. After all these years, I realized that I was traveling by train and that too by sleeper class. I rolled my eyes as I cursed my fate over my inability to get a ticket in the AC compartment even after some serious persuasion

A Conversation With Ma

<script async src=”//“></script> <!– taw-responsive –> <ins class=”adsbygoogle”      style=”display:block”      data-ad-client=”ca-pub-3446446293618986″      data-ad-slot=”1428227755“      data-ad-format=”auto”></ins> <script> (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); </script> “You seem so irritable these days,” my mother said as I was engrossed in my smartphone, switching between checking my mails and browsing through a social networking site.   “You won’t understand, Ma, our lives are way too complicated and stressful as compared

A Spooky Day in Office

<script async src=”//“></script> <!– taw-responsive –> <ins class=”adsbygoogle”      style=”display:block”      data-ad-client=”ca-pub-3446446293618986″      data-ad-slot=”1428227755“      data-ad-format=”auto”></ins> <script> (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); </script> “There’s a ghost in the washroom!” a colleague of mine whispered as I was filling water from the water filter. “My eyes went round, heart beat accelerated, and hands went cold as I came to know,” she explained with a nervous whisper.  

Cheating Death

As I sat in the auto today morning, the driver upon anticipating a heavy rush, wheezed through a narrow gully that seemed to be lost into oblivion. The acrid smoke of someone’s kitchen fire, the oozing moist vapors of freshly prepared tea in the dingy tea stall, and the familiar dark cloud of smoke from the narrow pipe of a rickety jeep passing by, seemed to create a tiny smoky

The Journey of a ’90s Kid

Being a ’90s kid is an amazingly charming thing in itself. Away from the mad world of smart gadgets, we grew up watching the seemingly innocent shows like Disney world, Duck tales, Shaktimaan, Alif Laila, Bournvita Quiz Contest, Mahabharat, Surabhi, Malgudi days, Om Namah Shivay and so on.   We happily drank Complan while secretly wanting to be a Complan boy/girl. Our simple way of life was comparable to the

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