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The untouched hues of Bulbbull:A short review

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Bulbbul is a visual representation of a couple of belief systems that have crafted a mystical insense to the enigmatic terrains of the colonial Indian landscapes. It is a Netflix original production that released this season. With the directorial magnificence of Anvitha Dutt and with the on screen performances of Tripti Dimri, Avinash Tiwari and Rahul Bose as leads, this movie can easily be consumed as an offshoot of the horror genre with not much scary bits incorporated into it. Its true essence lies in the turns taken on events of gender abuse, child marriage and superstitions. A mode of avenging the perpetrators is done simply by adoptiong the fruit of their own belief system and translating the same for punishing them for grafting venom into the lives of others. A demonic figure ravens throughout the film alongwith the unresolved mystery of murders that have taken place in the region. The movie surreptitiously sojourns back and forth the memory lanes of Bulbbul. Bulbbul...
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The Closed Door: A Short Story

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The discomfort offered by the drowsiness of his wrinkle patched eyelids conjoined with his unrhythmic inhalations made him seek solace in a corner of his ambiguous abode in the third floor of a dusty and rusting residential area. The darkness of the room along with the intermittent dribbles that leaked from the shower and crashed onto the tiled floor of the bathroom pestered his achromatic existence. He dreamt of leaving his room and to roam around the moonlit streets in his night pants. He tried to drag himself out of his room but after five to six heavy steps, he lost his breath and started to wage a losing war with an asthmatic rule that has infiltrated into his bronchi. He decided to settle on a chair in his room’s balcony and grab some fresh air as a pact of truce with his antagonist residing within himself. The moonlit walk of the street was three floors away from him. But he compromised to gaze down the isolated street shrouded with a paling and greying silence in order to tas...
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The Scarlet Vermilion

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  Pressing her left ear onto the unstable matrix of a disorganised table, she eyed at the restrained wanderings made by her curls to stretch past the frontiers of an inexorable control. A tiny seed-like winged creature landed on the table and it started to crawl slowly accompanied by an irksome buzz.   Its movement and noise got synchronised with her heart beat and gradually she stepped alongside the creature in its sojourn to nowhere! A thud on the table with a paper roll made both their hearts to skip a beat together and the metallic-golden life vanished into vacuum. “Missed it again!”, Yuva yelled with a lost excitement and walked out of the room in his old jersey. Being reminded of her duties, she collected herself and tied her curls into a high bun. She struggled to the kitchen to wash the utensils that were left behind as there was a party last night to celebrate Yuva’s promotion transfer. Though she was not enthusiastic about the first part of the offer, she was...
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Sex in the City

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The hues of the rainbow vanished into the depths of the crimson blue sky languidly. The daylight started to fade and the streetlights glimmered from the road side, where teenage boys  houled and waved at each other on their bicycles that moved round and round like a hula hoop. One of  the boys saw me starring at them from my window and he sent a lusty wink for me from there.  He must be around Tim's age, I guessed.   I traced myself back to the creeky couch that I bought from a garage sale last summer. I switched on the tablelamp and dragged a chair to restart working on what has engaged me that whole day. I logged into my laptop and avidly consumed myself in the job portals to find a suitable work that would help me to run my meagre household. My research helped me understand that high experience and good qualifications are the two main criteria for hunting down a proper payable job. But as a person who lacked any of these great possessions I decided to waive o...
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A ROOM

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                                                                                                “None of this hubbub and chaos are going to make any sense until we took the pain of explaining its relevance to our community…”, she read this fading scribblings from the corner of a tanned and scrambled piece of newspaper- an English paper with an illustrative article on a child molested by her uncle. Frustration seethed down her throat and she haphazardly searched for a lighter in the front pocket of her withered jeans. She pulled out some changes, cigarette butts and finally a lighter. She loo...
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