Live.Laugh.Love.

"Why won't you love me," I said, "I am the Sheriff, I save this village from goons. I let your little bastards grow up and become able workers in the county! I look at your filthy ladies with all the respect I can muster! Why won't you love me, then?" "Dear Sir," the headmaster put up a conniving smile and answered, "You take us in care which is good but that's all you do! Unlike the old man over there. Treating every visitor from his barrels some good ol' malt! Spreading love and good knowledge of the 21st century among those little bastards you despise! Helping ladies burn their midnight lamps and learn knitting, or nursing or some useful chore!" He said, "That old man you disrespect so much has a big heart," and then he asked, "Do you have a big heart, sir?" I was appalled at the extent this man looked up to the old man. "That man has wasted his good age in serving unworthy fellows like you, but I....

“Who builds a big house with such a small door that’s hidden behind a vine?” Said Anushka to her friend, her business-cum-travel partner. Their cycle trip had been broken short by sudden rains. Having business matters to discuss, they had hitched their bikes, walked up to the house and sat on the porch to talk. They talked of their business affairs until it grew almost dark. The evening was oppressively warm, the air stagnant. About seventy miles from Delhi, on the road leading to Alwar, stood an old house that was last occupied by a family named Parihar . Since more than a hundred years no one has lived in it, nor is anyone likely to live in it again. Time and the negligence of persons dwelling around have converted it into a rather picturesque ruin. Unacquainted with history, any tourist would put it into the category of "haunted houses,” Its windows are without glass, its doorways without doors and there are wide cracks in the ceiling. But these signs of the supernatur...