story
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This is a story of Priya and the first love shown in glances, smiles and Bollywood music.
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The monsoon came late to Allahabad that year, as though the sky too could not make up its mind. It was August 1942, and the whole of India seemed to be holding its breath. In the narrow lane of Tagore Gali, behind the post office and beside the old peepal tree, the Sharma household rose…
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Amayra lives in a monochromatic world. Her world is dark and dreary. Her depression isn’t a sadness so much as an absence, an absence of color, taste, and future. She hasn’t left her apartment in weeks, and the dust is settling on her life, just like it has settled on all her belongings. The statues…
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A sweet love story.