Posts Tagged ‘short story’

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman – Part 8

By Editor - May 18th, 2015

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman – Part 8

She knew she would never be the same person again. And for as long as she lived, she would never forget the terror, grief and anguish that resonated within her, as well as the Tamil community, as a result of the Tamil genocide.

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman – Part 7

By Editor - April 29th, 2015

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman – Part 7

It was then that Dr. Karler, the professor, entered the lecture hall. She was a short woman, wearing a grey sweater with a green clover leaf sewn onto the front. She had an abundant amount of grey hair, and looked as if she was in her late 60s. She slowly walked into the room, while Claire Vijayananthan stood next to her.

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman – Part 6

By Editor - March 30th, 2015

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman – Part 6

Tanya entered the lecture room, and found a seat near the back. She grabbed her notebook and a few pens from her bag, placing them neatly on her desk. Minutes later, Prithushan entered the lecture room, and begin climbing the stairs in search of a seat. He stared around the lecture room for a while—almost as if he were looking for something, or someone. Suddenly, he locked eyes with Tanya, and started walking towards her direction. Sweat began to trickle down Tanya’s forehead, when he sat down in the seat next to her.

She tried to avoid eye contact, but could feel his stare piercing through her. Eventually, she gave in, and turned to face him slightly. Her gaze was met by his warm smile again.

“Hey, man. It’s good to finally see a brown guy in this class for once,” he joked.

“Brown guy?! He actually thinks I’m a guy…” Tanya thought, stunned.

She deepened her voice, and tried to calm her emotions. “Err, yeah…I get what you mean, man. Nice to meet you,” she said in a raspy tone.

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman – Part 2

By Editor - January 25th, 2015

Chronicles of a Tamil Freshman - Part 2

“Damn it,” she thought. She knew she had a habit of doing clumsy things, and being given the top bunk would just add fuel to the fire. “What if I roll over one night, and fall flat on my face? Or, what if I gain so much weight that I break the bed and crush Eliza?” She began to imagine an obese version of herself, dressed in black, attending Eliza’s funeral. She pictured her tombstone reading: “Crushed to death by fat Tamil”.

Trying not to think about it, she began unpacking her luggage, and found the container of her mother’s infamous chicken biryani. “I’ll save this baby for tonight,” she thought. She put away her clothes and supplies in her assigned dresser, and organized her binders and notebooks for the first day of classes tomorrow. “I think that’s it,” Tanya thought to herself. She began digging through the rest of her luggage to see if she’d forgotten anything. She felt something underneath one of the folds, and pulled out a few packets of Fair and Lovely. “Jeez, thanks Amma,” Tanya muttered, as she threw the packets into the garbage bin underneath her desk.

Tamil Mirror Short Story Contest

By Editor - August 12th, 2012

Tamil Mirror Short Story Contest

An opportunity for writers aged 19 and above.

Shattered – Part 4 [Ending]

By Editor - April 13th, 2010

Shattered - Part 4 [Ending]

Tears seemed to be her tattoo for the day, it followed her from home and now school. “My dad and mom.” As she chocked on her spit telling her class about what had happened. “A truck hit them this morning and… and” and more tears. The gathered class that was content was now saddened. She tried to stop herself as she didn’t want to see her friends sad that didn’t help lift her level of faith.

Shattered – Part 3

By Admin - March 24th, 2010

Shattered - Part 3

“SASHA! Oh dear Lord!” Nana’s voice hurried behind her. The car came to a forced stop, as the horn rang in their ears so loudly piecing through the light brutal winter wind. “Sasha! I’ve always told you not to wonder in front of me!” Nana didn’t sound too pleased, as she tugged her by the arm bringing her pulse less bundled body closer beside hers.


By Admin - March 11th, 2010


“Sashaaaaa!” the loud roar of some familiarity, awoke her. A frightened reaction had her clutching on to her mantle. She had been in the middle of a bad dream, and all that she remembered was the sight of a young girl, about her age, crying in a corner, all alone. The expression on the girls face seemed as if it was plastered on hers as she got herself out of bed.