stories

stories

From A Death Hole

Jeevani0
It was 4th April 1998. I can never forget that dreadful day in my life. All the happenings of that day and the events leading to it, and how I came out of that death hole are still fresh in my memory even after three and a half years. We had joined the squad just a month and a half ago. Before that we were doing some tech (technical) work
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stories

Spring

Bannuru Suguna0
Yellamma filled water in her old bottle and gathered the old and torn hand towel and a rope to tie up the firewood that they would gather later in the day. She slung the bottle across her shoulder and called out to Suseela who lived in the hut adjacent to theirs, “Come Suseela, it is getting hotter”. At about the same time Suseela started out of her hut, looking back
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stories

A Mother and Father in the Revolution

Asifa0
“How come you are back so early?” asked Myni anxiously when she saw Rukni and Sindayi coming towards her when she looked up from her writing. She had sent them to the village on work just a short while ago. “I believe the police are here. Comrades from Salepal village met us and told us”. “Where did they come?” “Supposedly to Bodili village” “Who saw them?” asked Myni closing her
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stories

Gangi

Badri0
My little one, How are you my dear? It is already a year and a half since I left you. It took me some time to return to my normal self after leaving you. Binding my milk filled breasts tightly and firmly suppressing my overflowing emotions, I tried to adjust to life in my new surroundings. As I tried to adjust to the demands of this new life in the
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stories

Flight of the Song

Padma Kumari0
Two days ago, I visited Prabhakar's house. It has been one and a half months since his passing. After bringing the bodies from the encounter site, I had attended Comrade Bharati’s last rites ceremony in Medak. From there, I hurried to Hyderabad to attend Prabhakar’s funeral procession. I met his mother, Ratnamma then and offered my condolences. I found it challenging to talk to her about anything else. It is
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stories

Rectification

Ellanki Aruna0
“The party took up the ‘Rectification Campaign’* this year to review its program of action and to advance the movement. The campaign has to be conducted initially in the various committees of the Party and the Party cells and then taken to the people. We should carry it out actively. We should discuss and review in detail the incorrect methods we adopted in practice, the way we behaved with the
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stories

Two Surgeons

Shaheeda0
Once a decision is made in life, it’s made; there’s no need to think more about it.Just get on with it, whether the decision is a big or small one. But I have this big problem – before making up my mind, I keep goingback and forth a lot. Then,once I’ve decided, I keep having this dilemma whether it’s right or wrong. Take my decision to become a doctor. It
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stories

The flow

Midko0
What have you decided?“ asked Ravi, looking into her face. “Didn’t I tell you that there is no change in my decision!“ Sobha said looking at the stream flowing at her feet. “Won’t you change your mind?” he pleaded. “No” she said firmly without taking her eyes off the flowing stream. He looked at her with hurt for a few moments. She sat leaning to the left, with her left
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stories

New Education

B. Bhanumathi0
Sukru stays in an orphanage run by an NGO which is meant exclusively for Madiya Gond children who are orphans. There are fifty such children in it. Sukru is twelve or thirteen years old. You should listen to Sukru’s story in his own words. His eyes blaze with anger whenever he tells his story. So, let’s hear what he has to say.                                                                                                 ***** Our lives prior to the
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stories

She is My Daughter

Midko0
“My daughter…that’s my daughter…Oh God, that’s my daughter…Sukki…” From among the women looking at the dead bodies, Bhime fell on top of one of the bodies and started weeping. She would be about 50 years old. Everyone looked at her amazed. Then Adime came up and sat down beside her and said, “It’s not sukki, it’s kosi”. Adime was Bhime’s neighbour, of approximately the same age. “No, no, it’s my
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