Suma Jayachandar

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2021

Stories (48)

48 Stories

1892 karma pts

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“SALT” by Suma Jayachandar

Violence has a way of breaking you. Even if it’s the other guy whose bones are crushed.The food is all right. Mostly vegetarian. Suits me fine. It’s the sun and the wind; one splitting your skin open and the other rubbing the salt in. I am beginning to get used to that as well. It’s not for nothing I walked miles in the Mexican desert following a General. Or ran across the streets of London as the air raid alarms blared in 1917. After all, my muscles hold the miles they walked to cover stories along the length and breadt...

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“101 Dosas” by Suma Jayachandar

Dosa has been a constant in my life ever since I got the first explosion of Andhra gunpowder in my mouth. It is steadfast, satisfying, and never leaves a bitter aftertaste. Today, I need to order something big. Like a 4-foot-long dosa, with a bucketful of sambar, a mound of mashed potato, and four types of chutney. To celebrate my release from the clutches of a salad-munching witch, who snorted gingerly every time...

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“Take Me Home” by Suma Jayachandar

CW : Reference to suicide, violenceThe mofussil bus threw a cloud of dust and smoke on Lokesh’s face before he could turn away after getting down. The peepal tree stood at the same place, he noted; and the platform around it. Only the wastrels and old men who sat under it, a few chewing betel nuts meditatively, and others gossiping and observing who came to the village and who left it, seemed to have changed. Fifteen years would have sent a few to their graves and others back to their homes.He hoisted his...

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“Gridlocked” by Suma Jayachandar

You stand there with a bouquet of white and yellow gerberas. At my classroom door. A good fifteen minutes before your scheduled time.As you see me turn a corner with an armload of pale green report cards and other sheets to be signed and distributed, you hand over the bouquet to your eight-year-old cherub. He makes a move to hand it over to me but is sensible enough to see my hands are full. And stops.I smile at him and a couple of other early bird parents who want to finish up with whatever I have to say about their preciou...

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“Not Music to My Ears” by Suma Jayachandar

CW: Mention of death by suicide/homicide.“Normally, one cannot distinguish between homicidal poisoning and suicidal poisoning,” a hoarse voice from the witness stand rasps.Unless someone cries too much or too little.I shush my mind. I am not here in the capacity of an advocate or a private investigator. But just as a teenager sent to the courtroom to figure out if she is meant to pursue law.The Judge, honourable C.K. Gopal looks on impassively at the prosecuting witness. And coughs.“T...

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“Ace With Spades” by Suma Jayachandar

Mr Roy was sure of one thing the day he retired. He would bury the trophies won in his 30 years of corporate battles in the backyard of his home. And grow brinjals on them. He had observed; how the gardener tended to the lawn, grew seasonal flowers in the meticulously prepared beds, and harvested bountiful vegetables from the backyard of his company-given accommodation. He had envied the meditativeness he exuded a...

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“The Traveller's Gift” by Suma Jayachandar

Growing up, my father taught me two things.Don’t talk to strangers. And never try to turn the clock back.Yet, the precarious situation that I find myself in, demands that I do both. Or at least one of them.I stop the turban-clad man on the high street and ask “Where am I?”He is taken aback. I’m sure he doesn’t get asked this question every twilight by a proper white girl in her teens, strolling past a temple.He communicates through incoherent speech, head nods, and movement of his forearms. I catch ‘Myso...

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“Blueheart” by Suma Jayachandar

I gallop on the steep pathway that leads to Red Hearts Inc. The dewdrops on the rolling meadow down the slope cradle the newborn sunshine in them. On reaching the plateau sprouting the giant facility, I canter towards the entry gate. The blooms have fired up the trees close by and fill my breath with fragrance. Only after I punch in do I ease into a trot and make my way along the cold labyrinth of the facility. I manage ...

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“Moonlight and Madness” by Suma Jayachandar

Your eyes pour the moonlight on my path as I turn my back to you. In the dead of the night, I walk with my family, away from my home, my street, my town, and what was till yesterday- my country.There are other families with us. Snaking their way to Lahore railway station. In fear, pain, and certainty that their lives are not theirs anymore. It can be cut, morphed, or smoked out within a matter of seconds. Even if they get on that train to Amritsar and arrive there in one piece, they would just be a wisp of what they once were.<...

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“The Small-timers” by Suma Jayachandar

CW: Language, violenceThey had an inkling something was not right when the bundle didn’t bleat. But it was dark and they were a bit drunk. And desperate. Now, under a lush tamarind tree close to the hills and far from the village, they were jolted into sobriety and daylight by the tiny human in the bundle.Rarely in their career spanning 10 years did they commit such blunders. They had occasionally bagged an earthen pot mistaking it to be an ash gourd or heaved a sackful of cow dung cakes believing them to be potatoes. But ca...

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“Wheatish Complexion, Average Height” by Suma Jayachandar

I hop over the 20 dot kolam and open the gate. I know I will be sent to Mayura Bakery and Sweets within minutes.I look back at the four swans with cherries in their beaks, encircling a sharp leafed twig. They float on the street outside the gate only when special guests visit us. The guests who could potentially become family.I remove my school shoes and carry them inside. The shoe rack has been shifted from the front door to the back door in honour of visitors.I walk into the living room. A new diwan

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“Zero-sum Game” by Suma Jayachandar

Part A- This is not the beginning Life here is brutal. You are either a zero or one. Civilizations may want you to believe there are intermediate levels. But they are just being kind, and blind to their past. I don’t have such proclivities; I believe in stating the facts. Part B- The bit The bit took birth someplace between a city and a village called a town. Her cultu...

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“Shifting Roots” by Suma Jayachandar

I know you are miffed with me right now, but you will thank me when I’m not around.When I showed you the e-brochure of Saket Retirement Homes last week, you scoffed at the grey-haired, brightly clothed couple cornering a football on the lawn, and remarked, “As if they can kick it around without getting a cramp and their backs singing to them at night.” This ridicule, when I had carefully eliminated the ones that were named as senior homes, old age homes, and assisted living! I knew you would have never even considered taking a look...

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“Bagheera and Me” by Suma Jayachandar

Pa got his transfer order to move to Secunderabad Cantonment in the spring of 2016. I remember Ma breaking the news to me with a serving of chocolate cake, grinning from ear to ear. She was a city girl, and after two and a half years of being stationed at Dinjan which was nestled among the tea gardens interspersed with gigantic trees, with very rare trips to nearby Tinsukia, must have been relieved at the prospect of mov...

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“A Peaceful Outing” by Suma Jayachandar

Detective Srini hated breaking hearts. Unless it was necessary.Maybe that’s why he was regularly assigned these cases.He sat two rows behind his client’s wife, trying to shield himself from the blows the antihero rained on his assailants sending them flying in all directions on the screen.There was just one thought that kept on playing in his mind as his teeth crunched the caramel popcorn- When did I lose the plot of my life? Ms. Goldilocks shifted in her seat. Maybe she too had her nerves jangled enou...

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Author bio

Wanderer. Seeker. Teacher. Writer

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #154
Moonlight and Madness – read story

Shortlisted 1 story ⭐️

Contest #121
Another Day in Paradise – read story