It was not often that I received odd parcels. True, my job at the paper did occasionally warrant a few peculiar hate-mail or rebuttals, but this was nothing of that sort

“An Eye and a Leg” has been described as "a darkly humorous and surreal take on the trope of the ‘expiring’ South Asian woman"

Mrs X's parents were not interested in spending money on their daughter's room because they would have to give her new furniture when she got married

This is an excerpt from Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay's short story "Abhishapta", translated by Dipty Rahman

The night after the story got published, Jamal stormed to my home at around 11 PM, drenched in the rain. That was the first and only time Jamal raised his voice against me

“Residents usually get 30 days of observation period,” said the man at the reception, “but since it’s a leap year, you get an extra day.

Bolstered, the six little mice lead their army up–up–up the trunk of the poor, ravaged oak they were so desperate to save. 

His final sentiments were etched into the table before he succumbed to his final rest: "I found solace in the mountains. They demanded nothing and remained steadfast by my side."

You must have heard the story of your birth a thousand times by now, sweetheart. Your mother and I—home alone.

Again, I wasn’t a poet, but words and sentences jumbled up seeing that small face, light make-up enhancing her beauty. A loose strand of hair cascaded down her cheek, framing her face.

While leaving the institute, a nurse gave me a packet of cigarettes as a token of friendship

The mosque committee was quite displeased with Rashed, their young muezzin.

You are wide awake again

Everyone gathered around the east end of the Shashipur to watch Sharafat Miah dig his own grave. The local kids lurked around Sharafat’s old hut, keeping a watch on the progress of the grave until their mothers came to pick them up after Maghrib.

If they knew, your mother would have said, “It’s in your head, darling,” and your father would have screamed, “Put that head in the toilet bowl where it belongs.”

At around 2 AM he was awoken by the sound of Shahidun’s sniveling cries on her prayer mat. As grating as it might have sounded, he felt grateful for it to have woken him up.

The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 20 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: August

The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 9 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Long

“Stop mocking me, Atif! I am telling you there is something here.” 

The top selections in poetry, flash fiction and artwork for Day 8 of the Sehri Tales challenge; prompt: Flick