Archu From The Archive, Fictional

Short Story: Room Service

I stood paralyzed on the spot. I was absolutely awestruck and honestly helpless in front of the Greek God disguised as a mortal man. If virtues can be shaped, there they were, courage, compassion and kindness, carefully chiseled into his intricately carved features. If handsomeness can be quantified, there stood six whole feet of raw handsomeness in an arm’s length…

Continue Reading

Archu From The Archive, Fictional

Short Story: The Delivery

The fetal heart rate monitor makes a beeping noise. The steady graph is now distorted by a sharp spike. I close my eyes and clench my fist. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, I tell myself. Thirty seconds of excruciating pain makes me quiver. Thirty seconds that seem like an eternity. And then I relax. I know that…

Continue Reading

Archu From The Archive, Fictional

Family Issues

Suffered and suffocated, she opened the doors to her balcony, longing for the gentle breeze to soothe her frayed nerves. But no sir, what waited on the other side was not open garden with view of the fading horizon or a playground with the tiny feet chasing rubber balls, trailed by their innocent voices. She knew that. Her balcony leads…

Continue Reading

Archu From The Archive, Fictional, Personal

Scary Story

I used to pride myself for being a brave and bold iron lady but that is an outright lie. I have my fears, I fear ghosts! Technically, I know that demons belong to fantasy and there is no way that they are going to come down to our world and haunt us. But that knowledge doesn’t help when the light…

Continue Reading

Archu From The Archive, Fictional, Personal

Night Rider

10 PM by Bangalore weekend standards cannot be qualified as proper night, probably a late evening but not night. Even if it is, what’s the big deal about going out shopping provisions from the departmental store a few streets away from my residence, alright, even if I have to go alone and in my two-wheeler? The fact that I am…

Continue Reading