For her it was an obsession which was growing strong with each passing day. Her days would be spent agonizing about it. Sometimes she cried,

It was just another day at work…meetings, mails and making notes from case files. I was glad that the day was coming to an end.

  I remember the day we had accidentally bumped into each other… As we picked the scattered books, our eyes met. The first thing you

I had met her last evening at our regular cafe. She was not her usual self. To the others in the group, she was just

Casually, I asked her, while we were working in the kitchen, “Where does your husband work?”   She replied, “He doesn’t work”.   “Is he

  “Sarah was married to you, Saleem”. “Within a week of your marriage, you left her to serve our country”. “The war ended after a

A Drabble is an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length. The purpose of the drabble is brevity and to express

Grief engulfed her again, today. Another month became the bearer of the bad news. This was a ritual since the last 2 years. With each