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Category: STORIES

Letter to Saint Nicolas

Dear, dear Santa, You must be very busy this month, rather from a couple of months before you must have been busy. What with half the world demanding all sorts of different gifts from you; no wonder if you threw up your hands in exasperation saying, “Oh yet another letter!!” I most certainly understand how frustrated you must be. So here’s the great revelation of my letter: I need no gift from you. This is not a demand on a certain steam boat, or talking doll or human-size teddy or a certain dress from a high-end designer. This is...

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A Man with Scars and an Empty Garage

The cobwebs have formed dusty clouds inside the garage. The garage is now a sanctuary for insects. The wheels of my car used to draw patterns on the grass path. Now the path is full of weeds. The dust carried by the breeze soiled my face and clothes. One of my hands rubbed my face. The skin of the scars on face felt rough to the fingers. My fingers searched for the unharmed soft skin in between the scars that were caused by the car accident. It must have been a cursed day… the day I bought my car....

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A Cute Tale of Mother’s Love

“Will she ever settle in one place and concentrate on learning?” an expression of worry is marked on Thalatha’s face. Her beautiful small eyes with long lashes are sleepy. Her thick curly hair long up to her waist is messed up. Her days have been like this for the last two years since the birth of her younger daughter. Her two daughters were born with a gap of six years. With the youngest one’s arrival Thalatha once again felt the tenderness of a newborn’s skin, the smell of baby cologne and the joy of an infant’s smile. She remembers...

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A House without a Chimney

It was the year 1964. The time I was spending in the city, with my ex-husband before our divorce, did no good to me. I thought moving out from the city and living in a totally different environment would help me to distract myself and gradually, heal the wounds of my heart. I found an old house in this little isolated town of Georgiana and started living there all alone, with a small amount of money I had been saving. I was going through a traumatic rough patch. The dissolution of the marriage had unleashed a flood of consequences...

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The Memory Box

Here’s my short story published in the Write To Reconcile Anthology II. I wrote the first few pages of ‘The Memory Box’ during the Write to Reconcile workshop. The story is based on the experiences I gathered throughout the workshop in Batticaloa. Sri Kanthi couldn’t tear her eyes away from the shining earrings and bracelets, the bright colours of the outfits worn by the group of young ladies who were visiting the convent. Their earrings had many dainty parts like mini chandeliers, unlike the traditional big, gold earrings her Amma used to wear for kovil. Amma had a pair of...

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