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He halted the bike at the edge of the cliff. She was filled with joy, yearning to finally hear those three words from him. It would be a moment of double celebration for her today, as she had topped her college exams for the second year in a row. He took her hand and led her to the very edge, where the steepness of the cliff began. The sun was about to set, casting a pinkish-red glow all around and illuminating her angelic face. This was the exact moment he had been waiting for, when she looked the most beautiful. He held her tightly from behind. Trusting him completely, she rested her entire body against him and closed her eyes. Then, he suddenly pushed her with all his strength. She was gone in an instant. He smiled, assured now that he would top the college from next time. This post is a part of  BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026

Her eyes were fixed on him as he leered at her with lustful intent. He approached her at the bar, smiling with his crooked lips, his gold canine tooth on display. Gesturing to the bartender, he signalled for her drink to be refilled. She kept her palm open on the bar, inviting him to ask for something in return. He smiled creepily and revealed two packets of white powder in his open hand. Just as he stealthily moved his left hand up her thigh, she swiftly caught his wrist and handcuffed him. She slid down from her high chair, and from every corner of the bar, police officers disguised in plain clothes rushed to her side. The dreaded smuggler had finally been caught red-handed. This post is a part of  BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026

He was lying on the temple steps, cuddled in a corner, wrapped in a tattered blanket. No one noticed him; those who did turned away in disgust. A rotten stench of flesh emanated from him. One of his legs was wounded and needed urgent care. Flies buzzed around it. He was moaning in pain, but no one heard. She was ascending the stairs of the temple, like every day, spraying sacred water as she went. This was her daily routine, known to all; although annoyed, no one dared to speak against her. The ill man did not escape her sharp sight, and before she could speak, her grandson, who always accompanied her, assured her that such filthy people should be removed from the temple grounds. She did not reply; instead, she looked at him with her bloodshot eyes and, to everyone’s surprise, approached the wounded beggar. She took his head onto her lap and made him drink the holy water. Her grandson, startled, called for an ambulance. A life was saved. This post is a part of  BlogchatterA2Z Cha...

Before the sun rose, he slowly got prepared. Clad in a white piece of clothing on his lower half, he walked bare-bodied towards the steps down to the river. The calm river, the beautiful river of the Ganges, where many people had already gathered for their prayers. It was Mahalaya, and everyone was there to pray for their ancestors. He was one amongst them, and he had been practising the same thing every year for the past 20 years. Till last year, he used to accompany his father. Today, his father would be in his prayers, along with his other ancestors. This post is a part of  BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026

They were sitting on the bench, watching the children play in the park. These children reminded them of how all three of them used to play the same way almost 60 years back at the same place. They used to fight over who would bat first. They argued, fought, but again assembled the next day. Now, after decades, every evening, they came here, talked for an hour, and sometimes took a stroll. But they did not miss a single day, just like before. Their topic of discussion varied from politics to theatre, from books to music, from food to families. That was not relevant; what was important was being at the same place, at the same time. It was their only time to relish their earlier days; they had changed, their surroundings had changed too, but what had remained was their bond together- unaltered and unfiltered. This post is a part of  BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026

The dark office was now magically illuminated. The dusty table, which had suddenly become clean, was covered with papers, files, and pens—all perfectly organised. The foul smell of dead rats, dust, and cobwebs transformed into an intense musk reminiscent of how it smelled five years ago. The broken chair was somehow fixed, and someone was sitting there with their back to him. A lit cigar rested between their fingers, revealing two exotic rings—the very ones he had come here for. Was it an illusion? How could this be happening? Just a few minutes ago, he entered a deserted office. He wasn’t drunk; he had only come to dig up the wall where he had buried the body, hoping to retrieve those rings to pay off his debt. The goons were after him, and this was his last resort. The figure rose from the chair and turned to face him. He recognised him—the same man he had seen five years ago, when he shot him in the chest, piercing his heart. He could still see the wound where the heart should have ...