Fiction

 

Eggs keep falling from the fourth floor

 

Shortlisted for the Queen Mary Wasafiri New Writing Prize

“When I’m in my turtle home, Misi knocks on my shell and comes sits next to me and holds my hand. And if there’s nothing to say, she braids my hair and says it doesn’t matter if I have lice or not. That’s Misi for you.”

 
 

Published in Gutter

“A dragon has appeared from the plant on your bedside table and blown fire towards your window. You are horrified—the sales assistant at IKEA had sworn that the curtains were non-flammable, but here you are, in a room set on fire.”

 
Illustrated by Prachi for Bound

Illustrated by Prachi for Bound

 

Winner of the Bound Short Story Contest 2019

“You weren’t even supposed to be here. You weren’t ever going to get married, settle abroad, have a child, make paneer for your husband, have it curdle and turn too sour, leaving the two of you to spend Monday in bed, your stomachs clutched in agony.”

 

A Sea in My Stomach

 

“‘Fish!’ A woman grabbed my arm and looked into my mouth curiously. I swallowed my spit, murmured, ‘Fish? I didn’t see fish, I adore fish, where’s the fish?’ I shoved the person towards a catered plate that was floating by, grabbed my bag and fled.”

 
Illustration by Ryoko Tamura for Extra Teeth

Illustration by Ryoko Tamura for Extra Teeth

 

Published in Extra Teeth

“The people called it black magic—the cat’s tendency to disappear into thick, smoggy air. Limb by limb, tooth by tooth.”

 

Movie-Theatre Dreams

 

Published in Gutter

“We go to the movies often. Movies of people falling in love with each other, movies full of colour and dance. Movies in which the bad cop meets the good cop and saves New York from being exploded into pieces. We wonder what happens to other places—the non-New York parts of the world when bad things happen. Who saves us then?”

 
 

“It took a while to convince Lucy to go on a date with me. She works very hard, that woman. We both shop for vegetables at the same market. I see her often with her jute shopper bag swinging from her shoulder like a little girl’s pigtail.”