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Kites, Girls & the Blue Sky

Posted on 02 Aug 2015 in Anubha Yadav, Sort of Ordinary Things | 0 comments

I was about eleven and my elder sister was thirteen- two of my younger sisters were seven and four. We were on a mission. We wanted to fly a kite. Now, the villain, as there is always one amidst such missions was my father- who had somehow smelled the plan and warned us in his […]

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Pillow Talk

Posted on 04 Jul 2015 in 9/11, Anubha Yadav, ATM- All Time Musings, Features/Published, Features/Unpublished, Gender, Just, man/woman, Sort of Ordinary Things | 0 comments

“So, how is marriage treating you?” “It’s all good,” She sighed,” but I really, really miss my pillow.” “So, just carry it to your new home.” “No, no it’s not the same. I will just have to yearn for it till I stop yearning for it.” And she too misses her pillow I thought. I […]

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Baal Ki Khaal

Posted on 08 May 2015 in Anubha Yadav, ATM- All Time Musings, Opinion/Current Affairs, sarkar, Uncategorized | 0 comments

By Saadat Hasan Manto – “Arrey, who cares for what Manto bhai writes? Manto has a habit of splitting hairs,” said Khan into the receiver before he hung up. He spread his legs some more so some air passes through his tight denims, his tall frame was sprawled on the sofa in his vanity van. […]

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Short Fiction: Bahadur O Bahadur

Posted on 27 Aug 2013 in Anubha Yadav, Fiction, Short Story, Uncategorized | 0 comments

Here’s the short fiction piece Bahadur O Bahadur – published in Sahitya Akademi’s Indian Literature Journal.

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Short Fiction Published

Posted on 15 Aug 2013 in Anubha Yadav, Fiction, Short Story, Uncategorized | 0 comments

My story, ‘Dancing Girl of Mohenjo-Daro’ in the August issue of The Four Quarters Magazine. Here is an excerpt:  “I was already gliding; one can’t walk inside those doors or over those slippery floors, one can just glide. Inside the lights were yellow, brighter than the sun but still soothing, like yellowish sparkling stars. And […]

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The Marlboro Tears

Posted on 17 Jul 2013 in Anubha Yadav, Features/Unpublished, man/woman, Men, Opinion/Current Affairs, Private Diary of a feminist., Taslima Nasreen, Women | 0 comments

The first time I saw my father cry was when I was in my late twenties. I am sure he had cried before, perhaps many-a-times. Of-course, he must have cried before.From that day, till today, I have wondered on where he cried before? At his office, in the bathroom as he showered(tears unseen even to […]

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