Retrieved from the personal blog of the late Amit Thakur, erstwhile reporter of the Indian Chronicle. Chapter 1: Gathering 15th June 2018 Of late my visits to Professor Roy’s house have been less frequent. His Saturday evening gatherings of like-minded people were something I looked forward to attending, however, the nature of my work and bizarre timings have kept me from doing so. Today when the invitation chimed on my email I made up my mind to attend in spite of being ill-

The town of Rattlecreek stood dead silent. The hands of the clock in the watchtower ticked on, silently. Five minutes to midday. A solitary eagle soared high above the deserted street. There was no sound but the faint neigh of horses. The townsfolk watched from their windows, some peeked fearfully from salons and joints. The two men on the street stood facing each other in the scorching heat, waiting for noon and death. Their hands rested anxiously on their belt. The wooden h

17:34 hours. 17th March, 2034. ICSE. Detroit. Earth “Given that the Explosion happened a mere five years ago, do you believe that the risk was worth it?” ‘Was it? Worth it?’ wondered Dr. Samuel Reed, Flight Director for the SX-II manned mission to Titan. It had been an hour since Christopher Langford and Paul Carter had made history by landing on the moon of Saturn. A press conference was held at the International Center for Space Exploration (ICSE) to brief the media about

Carol Mayweather cursed herself for not taking the flight. ‘Try the train’ she had thought, ‘authentic Indian experience’. At 11:57 when she finally got to board her much delayed train she did not have much regard for ‘authentic Indian experience’. She waded through the dark sleeping compartment searching for her seat. When she found it, it was still kept unfolded, a lean young man sat across it. The light from the station poured in through the window illuminating his face. H

The Man in the cape had great difficulty in finding the pub. It wasn't a pub to begin with. Over the years it had been a great many things - a cave, a hut, a castle, a manor, and now a pub. He always liked the Old Man but could never understand why he kept changing the place. It was not like he did not have enough troubles of his own. For one he could not remember any names, not even his own. This was a recurring problem, it happened when he was a knight, a cowboy, a detectiv

Photo by Félix Besombes on Unsplash “Dadu tell me a story.” “You always fall asleep halfway”, I replied knowing full well she won’t give up that easily. Carla was my granddaughter. She stayed in the states with her parents. Once a year she would come to visit us during the festivals. This year she broke her leg skating and my son arranged for me to come to visit her. We have come to a silent agreement, the two of us. Every night after dinner I would tell her a story, and in t