BlogchatterA2Z

  • Radha my hero

    Radha my hero

    This is a continuation. In case you missed post g, check here. The door, unlike the gate, required no effort to push. Immediately suspicious, Radha threw out his hand to stop Priyanka from entering the house. Seeing his hand, she huffed in irritation. “There are no ghosts here.” Damn it but she was still whispering.…

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  • Behind the closed gate

    It was after school (because what the students of class VII-B were about to do would never be possible with the teachers and the prefects and Ameen miss and all those people who insist on disciplining thirteen year olds).

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  • The message in the feather

    The embargo had been lifted. Mayur and Sagar could start playing detective again. No one was happier than Radha’s dadi. She still nurtured the hope that the two boys would positively influence her grandson and make a man out of…out of whatever he was currently. If only she knew the influence that Radha had on…

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  • Room in the elephant…?!

    “I haven’t seen you in my office for almost a month! I was starting to miss you Rishidhar.” Radha groaned. He had told Ameen miss several times his name was Radha and not Rishidhar. But she insisted on calling him by his first name. He had to let it go though. She was after all…

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  • Who kicked the dustbin?

    When Radha and his classmates returned to their classroom after a rousing match of football… Radha was rather good at this sport, thank you very much. “Dev D” thought it was the technique and muscles that made him so good at the sport. And yet, it was Radha who had scored the first goal of…

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  • The broken cup

    The broken cup

    Kneeling next to the shattered remains of his dada’s favourite tea cup, Radha looked up at Sheetal tai full of disdain. He had told her repeatedly not to bother him with her inane problems. But when she had come to his room, all teary eyed and wringing her hands like she would twist them off…

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  • Where is the bottle?

    Where is the bottle?

    It was recess. The corridors were filled with cacophony of students screaming from a sugar rush, teachers trying to maintain some discipline without being overbearing and intermittent slaps and ball dribbling. In the middle of all this noise sat two boys from the sixth grade. They were seeking Radha’s particular brand of expertise to look…

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