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The past week had been utterly unproductive, with noisy people all around, disrupting her focus. She could not write a single word. All she longed for was a break, to concentrate. She wanted to go somewhere peaceful, and she followed her heart. She took a backpack and, without saying a word to anyone, set off into the unknown. The bus dropped her off in a village she had never heard of before. Acres of green fields all around, a clear blue sky, and the fresh smell of greenery in the air made her happy. She found her location and arranged a week-long stay. Within a day, her mind was afresh, cleared of the noise and pollution, and finally, she was ready to write again. This post is a part of  BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026

He consciously chose to take the bus instead of the train. He knew the train would have been much faster, but he wanted to delay his arrival. What was the use of hurrying? He feared he might come across a deserted house, perhaps even occupied by someone else. A few months ago, when he watched her win the singing reality show on TV—something they were allowed to watch once a week—his excitement about getting out of jail mellowed down. Now, he was returning home filled with hopelessness and uncertainty. After an exhausting eight-hour bus journey, he finally arrived in the village and made his way to his house. People turned to look at him; some even saluted him, to his surprise. As he approached his home, he was stunned to find a neat and charming little house in place of the small mud hut he remembered. There was even a small garden in the front. As soon as he opened the iron gate, someone came running out of the house towards him. It was her, looking beautiful as ever and genuinely hap...

I rarely read science fiction these days. I remember till school years I used to be glued to Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, like many of us of our times. Somehow, I had lost interest in between. And I was absolutely unaware that Indian authors are also authoring plenty of Science fiction these days. And there should be a "restart" to everything, and this year I had the opportunity to read not one but two science fiction novels, thanks to Blogchatter. All Roads Lead Here  by  Suchita Agarwal  is one of those.  About the Book All Roads Lead Here All Roads Lead Here  is a coming-of-age story that centres on Parth, a 17-year-old. The book explores Parth's gifted powers, friendships, and troubled relationships in a magical world where individuals possess the power of the 5 elements. About the Author Suchita Agarwal   is a Mumbai-based writer with 3 published books to her credit. Other than this one, her other works are a poetry anthology, 23 Letters of Love ,...

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...