Category: Short stories

An archive of my short stories, most of them with a heavy South Asian / Sri Lankan bent. I find the form useful for blowing off steam.

A man died yesterday.

The dead man’s son held up the casket. We’ve seen him so many times on the road, dragging his father away from yet another bottle and yet another fight. Is that relief I see? A dead man is easier to take away.

Maradana Rain

Then the rain comes. A drizzle at first. Handbags open. Umbrellas come out. The men pick up the pace. Then a shower. Slowly, but with increasing swiftness, Maradana is transformed. Not many can stand music of the raindrops.

The Begging Bowl

Picture a dark alley. Then picture something smaller, but with the same atmosphere, for it would be an exaggeration to call this this place an alley.

The Maluman

Malu-O! he cries, breaking through the silence. He doesn’t have a degree in Marketing. What he has is a loud voice and a tireless back.

Soldier Boy

He will remember this moment forever, even in death; the lonely station under the grey dawn; the cold, barren wind playing with the trees; the soft stink of the train, an undercurrent of sweat and tears.