Tag: Nishta Kochar
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XOXO met the deadline and left late for her dome. She was tired and just wanted to take a music bath and rest. Not many bellows had passed when her metal wire turned red.
Nishta Kochar
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Dressed in a bright green saree, draped with the finesse of an air-hostess of shady airline service, stood Kavita. With lips covered in cheap red lipstick, she smiled like an underpaid air-hostess too. Her hair was decorated with flowers and she aggressively chewed on a betel leaf. One could see her teeth stained in the red catechu juice.
Nishta Kochar
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You want to know what a woman is thinking, ask a woman. Simple!”
Nishta Kochar
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“I wish to drown in my pain, alone, just like a moth dancing to its death in the flame!”
Nishta Kochar
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‘If someone’s poor (or less fortunate), then it’s their fault.’
Nishta Kochar
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Mrs. Shah was a media favorite and the paparazzi loved her but only because she could be entertainingly obnoxious with her potty mouth and caustic mannerisms.
Nishta Kochar
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Chato visualised strangling her thin neck with the same underwear; tying it around her collar like a luscious red bow on a birthday present. Pesto gasped for air, her reptile-like tongue sticking out, her face turning to a beautiful shade of onion pink as she choked on Chato’s kachcha. What a lovely contrast of that delicate pink against that gaudy red and green underwear. Poetry in motion, Chato thought, smiling. What an exquisite and intense way to die.
Nishta Kochar
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Her lips, always dry and chapped, were thin like wafers and roasted dark brown from smoking. She was addicted to bidi. Her right arm was festooned with tattoos, now disappearing with time, sweat and age. Her wrists were always covered in heavy silver bangles – gone black with oxidation. She always wore black. Her fingers were slender and delicate, just bones wrapped in paper-thin skin. And what magic they weaved when they got down to making pickles!
Nishta Kochar
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“I will certainly not entertain your underwear flying across my front lawn like summer bees and most certainly not in my face.”
Nishta Kochar
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Sometimes he found notes snuck underneath his door with the warning “Get rid of the dog! Tick-Tock!”
Nishta Kochar