“How could he do this?” thought Subrat. “He’s such an intelligent boy.” He looked at his watch and shook his head. It was five minutes to noon. In an hour, it would be lunch-time – and all over for Loknath. “It’s such a shame.” Subrat grimaced in frustration. “I should’ve known better than to have wasted my energy on him. All of them are the same. Poverty is their comfort zone. They hate coming out of it.” Seated on a dusty, dilapidated bench at the District Collector’s office at Bhawanipatna, in Odisha’s Kalahandi district, he wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead, with his handkerchief. The June mid-day temperature soared to well above forty degrees. He clicked his tongue and writhed on the bench, sandwiched between a young man and an elderly lady, who waited for their turns. He wondered whether his efforts were worth it; and dreaded that…
Adi smiled. He darted towards the corner table, evading the subtle, curious gazes of the other guests. His eyes gleamed, reflecting the soft, golden…
It was two weeks since Dinesh Nair died from an overdose of sleeping pills. No one had any answer. Akanksha took off her glasses…
Piyush Chawla flashed his boarding pass to the security guard at the airport entrance. It was noon – an hour and forty-five minutes for…