Kanika G

“Alive” by Kanika G

Today, I wake up atop the Great Pyramid of Giza. Although it’s been a while since I died, I’m still getting used to waking up on my feet and usually in the most absurd yet breathtaking, out-of-the-blue, didn’t-see-that-one-coming locations AROUND THE WORLD. Not that I’m complaining — I’m sure at some point in the forty-six years of my existence on Earth, I might have expressed a desire to see the Great Pyramid without actually believing I’d go there. My bucket list was over a thousand items long, and I think I’m going through it now tha...

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“The Gift of Time” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #154

“Dude, are you sure you don’t want to sleep in my room? You’re pretty wasted,” I asked Jai over the loud metal music blasting from the speakers in my hostel room. Three of my other friends were seated in my room — two on the single bed and one on the floor with glasses of whiskey and cigarettes in their hands — now tired of headbanging to the music and watching porn on mute for the past two hours. On the corner stove, instant noodles were simmering in a steel pan, the delicious aroma of Maggi displacing some of the cigarette fog. Jai scoffed...

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“Just Stop” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #151

THEN           When I knocked on the door of my manager’s office at 9:30 a.m. that morning, my throat felt dry and constricted. Despite the 22-degree-Celsius setting of the office air-conditioner, my shirt stuck to my sweaty back and my hands were clammy and shaky.           “Come in please,” he said in his usual toneless voice.           It was a regular office with staid furnit...

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“Just Ask the Lamp” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #149

“The aqua blue dress or the cherry red jumpsuit?” I say, holding up the two dresses in front of the mirror. The table lamp on the dresser continues to light up the room with its steady beam of light. “Sorry, still getting used to it,” I say, shaking my head. “Which of these two dresses will look more flattering on me tonight — the aqua blue dress or the cherry red jumpsuit?” I say, enunciating each word. The table lamp immediately starts flickering. A short burst of light, followed by four longer bursts. One dot followed by four dashes....

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“The Best Horror Show You'll Ever See” by Kanika G

“Will you tell me now what the surprise is?” I say, turning to look at him. Justin looks at me, his lips curling into a lop-sided smile, which would have ordinarily made him look cute, but with his face painted white and his mouth smeared with my red lipstick, he looks very Draculaesque. “You’ll find out soon, babe.” The sound of his voice soothes me.  Outside, darkness is enveloping the evening sky. Since we exited the interstate highway five minutes ago, the number of vehicles on the road has thinned with most of the vehicles moving t...

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“The Retreat” by Kanika G

Day 1 The gravel crunched underneath the car’s tyres as we swerved to the left at the fork in the road. The pink and white dahlias on the side of the narrow road swayed in the gentle breeze and beyond the patch of flowers, a lush meadow stretched out as far as I could see. My mobile, clutched in my hand, buzzed. “Hi Mom!” I said, trying to infuse some cheer into my voice. “Hi dear! Have you reached?” “Yes, I’m almost there. I can see the gate in the distance. Is that it?” I asked, speaking to the driver. “Yes, ma’am.” A hundred feet ahead, ...

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“A Life of Regret” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #105

When Raj had stealthily installed the iSpy 200 Vision Plus device on his wife’s prescription glasses two weeks ago, he had no idea the device would enable him to watch and hear from her perspective—in a way, relive—her last day alive. It was this morning Raj had received the Bluedart courier with the pen drive containing the recording of the last day of Mira’s life—her first and only day of wearing her glasses with the iSpy installed—just before the horrific car accident in which her car had been hit on the rear by another fast-moving vehicl...

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“The Cheating Husband” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #102

Draping the pallu of my saree around my waist, I tucked the loose end of it into the petticoat to avoid getting ketchup and oil stains on it as I helped serve piping hot samosas, ordered fresh from Narula’s bakery in Indiranagar, into the Corelle plates. The whiff of the spicy mint chutney I dolloped into each plate made my mouth water. Next, I served vegetable spring rolls, paneer tikkas and semolina idlis flavoured with mustard seeds and curry leaves into each plate, adding chicken tikkas into the plates for the two non-vegetarians in our ...

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“Atropa Belladonna” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #100

Seventy-two-year-old Mrs. Sharma, or Sharma Aunty as the neighbourhood kids called her, smeared a dollop of chickpea paste over the Colocasia leaves—Elephants Ears or Arbi leaves in common parlance—that she had plucked this morning from her vegetable garden. She then placed five leaves of similar size one on top of the other, each generously smeared with spiced chickpea paste, and began to tightly roll them lengthwise. Once fully rolled, she secured them with toothpicks and cut the roll into thin slices, which she began frying in mustard oil...

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“The Same God” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #99

As I unrolled my blue beach mat—too large for one person—on a “safe” part of the beach, my mind stumbled over all the seemingly unimportant but critical details it usually stumbled over while I meticulously set things up. Of prime importance was the time because if I missed the 10 a.m. to 11 a.m. window when the sun was still in a pleasantly warm avatar and not yet a fire-spitting demon, I would not able to see anything because my mind would be preoccupied with avoiding death by dehydration while my exposed skin would turn into a red, itchy ...

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“The Rest of Their Lives” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #97

Trigger warning: ViolenceThis story is inspired by true events.“Ammi, I’m waiting,” I cried, gazing longingly at the empty plate in Ammi’s hand from which she’d just served the last makki ki roti (cornbread) to my elder brother, Ali.Abbu shot me a disappointed look from across the table. He loathed impatience.“Two minutes, Inaya,” said Ammi, wiping the sweat on her forehead with her dupatta as she disappeared into the kitchen where I could see my Chachi (paternal aunt) flattening a roti between her hands and placing it over the tawa. Overhea...

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“Honeylove” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #95

Trigger Warning: LanguageDavid slipped on the latex gloves as he surveyed the stairs going down into the darkness of the basement. Although it was too early for the body to start smelling, he secured his double-layered mask before cautiously starting the descent. With each step forward, the stairs creaked eerily, filling him with dread. Usually, David loved going down the basement staircase for his daily rendezvous with his victims, who lay on the dusty wooden floor, bound and gagged and terrified, completely at his disposal to do as he plea...

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“A Woman of Loose Morals” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #93

Trigger warning: Violence, languageThis story is inspired by true events.Neha covered her head with the dupatta of her salwar-kameez and wrapped it across her shoulder. She put on the oversized black sunglasses borrowed from her roommate Kavya, who — along with the rest of the second-year students of Kasturba Medical College — was attending the first lecture of the day. Dr. Swamy was one of the lenient professors and students often got away with marking proxy attendance for their friends. As Neha checked the pen drive in her pocket for the t...

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“The Festival of Lights” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #92

Six-year-old Hari climbed the stool and peered over the balcony railing of his third-floor apartment. Downstairs, the car parking of blocks B and C had been cleared for tonight to allow the residents space for bursting crackers. Some of the older kids were now arriving with their bags of crackers and sorting them into heaps of phool-jhadis, anaars, chakris, rockets, laddees and the larger bombs that were usually saved for the big bang at the end.“Hari!”From the opposite building, Hari’s friend Ria waved at him from her balcony. Her father st...

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“The Long Walk Home” by Kanika G

Submitted to Contest #91

“What!” exclaimed Pam, gaping at her friend Jessica from across the library table.   As several students turned around to look at their table, Jessica mouthed a sorry to them.   “Quiet, please, Pam,” she urged her irate friend, “or Mrs. Walker will throw us out again and I still need to finish my assignment.”   Pam shook her head, her ringlets bouncing around over her shoulders. “I cannot believe it. You’re ditching us again,” she whispered.   Jessica reached across the table and held her friend’s hand. “Look, I’m sorry. ...

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