Fear, Love, Marigolds and More   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

It was not until he retired from his eminent position and his hair had turned gray that Gagan began to be bothered by the fact that he was a coward. But then came the morning that he decided,

The Rainy Season   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

Svami Jivanand was watching the rain taper off as the rainy season was drawing to a close. Deep in thought, he shook his head as he said to himself, didn't you know that this would happen?

Old Poems   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

Ramabou was picking spinach. It was a sunny morning, even the wind felt hot and burning. Ramabou had taken off her shawl and put it on a rock nearby.

The Curtain   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

The makeshift curtain stuck out like a sore thumb in the small street where everything else seemed wide open to the air. The entire front verandah of the thatch-roofed house could no longer be seen

The Sanctuary   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

'Let's go. Let's go up to the roof of your house. It's nice and big and it's got lots of nooks and crannies and places to hide. There are no trees up there so the gardener won't give us one of his mean looks. It's perfect for us. What do you say?'

Damp Earth   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

Bishva Bhushan Ray was lounging in the garden of his ancestral home. He was sitting on a wicker chair, one foot stretched out in front of him and the other propped up on a second wicker chair.

The Waves   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

True peacefulness comes from emptiness _ from the absence of everything _ everything that otherwise disturbs and confounds us. My mind is totally empty

The Last Story   from   FEAR, LOVE, MARIGOLDS and MORE

Ganesh tells stories. Plain and simple. There were times when that 'plain and simple' leapt up at Ganesh and made him squirm. See here, if you think my name is worthy of mention.

Sariputta   from   Surendra Mohanty: STORIES

Sariputta is coming home today. Not Sariputta the monk, not Sariputta the arch-disciple of Lord Buddha; rather, it is Rupashree's son, Sariputta, who is coming back to his mother's dwelling, long left desolate by his absence.

Mahanirvana   from   Surendra Mohanty: STORIES

The monotonous chant rose like the hum of a thousand bees, creating the illusion that the monastery of Grudhrakuta Vihara was a hive of activity.