<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
<rss version="2.0" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/">
    <channel>
        <title>#microfiction from India</title>
        <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india</link>
        <description>undefined</description>
        <lastBuildDate>Mon, 20 Jul 2026 12:56:14 GMT</lastBuildDate>
        <docs>https://validator.w3.org/feed/docs/rss2.html</docs>
        <generator>https://github.com/jpmonette/feed</generator>
        <language>en</language>
        <image>
            <title>#microfiction from India</title>
            <url>https://storage.googleapis.com/papyrus_images/1291a2b311886fbf4f272a8a8db241eb26fe077617a0bbd3f2735044ee142fbf.png</url>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india</link>
        </image>
        <copyright>All rights reserved</copyright>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#15 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/15-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>RidRMyPMTw6p1lye5zvS</guid>
            <pubDate>Thu, 28 Oct 2021 05:28:14 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[She was struggling to speak in English. He didn&apos;t care. She made him smile. Plus, he knew Hindi well. They would manage just fine. A few months later she asked him why he insisted on replying in Hindi. Did he think she was too gawaar to speak English? *** He was struggling to speak in English. She didn&apos;t care. He made her smile. Plus, she knew Hindi well. They would manage just fine. A few months later he asked her why she insisted on replying in Hindi. Did she think he was too gawa...]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>She was struggling to speak in English. He didn&apos;t care. She made him smile. Plus, he knew Hindi well. They would manage just fine. A few months later she asked him why he insisted on replying in Hindi. Did he think she was too <strong>gawaar</strong> to speak English?</p><p>***</p><p>He was struggling to speak in English. She didn&apos;t care. He made her smile. Plus, she knew Hindi well. They would manage just fine. A few months later he asked her why she insisted on replying in Hindi. Did she think he was too <strong>gawaar</strong> to speak English?</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>gawaar</em></strong><em> - illiterate)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#14 | stories in everyday-speak]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/14-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>cCQpz4G7ELCnPvtEHin8</guid>
            <pubDate>Thu, 28 Oct 2021 05:22:28 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[It irritated her that he stored her number as &apos;Abhi Cell New&apos;. Please change it to Abhilasha Sen na? He said no. It really bothered her. She asked him again the next day. Theek hai, on one condition, he said. Change mine from Kuldeepak Kumar Srivastava to &apos;Deepak Cell&apos; in your phone. #hindi #english (na? - no?) (theek hai - okay, sure)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>It irritated her that he stored her number as &apos;Abhi Cell New&apos;. Please change it to Abhilasha Sen <strong>na?</strong> He said no. It really bothered her. She asked him again the next day. <strong>Theek hai</strong>, on one condition, he said.</p><p>Change mine from Kuldeepak Kumar Srivastava to &apos;Deepak Cell&apos; in your phone.</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>na?</em></strong><em> - no?)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>theek hai</em></strong><em> - okay, sure)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#13 | stories in everyday-speak]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/13-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>OEfQR72kdztbSX9i0DhR</guid>
            <pubDate>Thu, 28 Oct 2021 05:19:24 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[She lifted the hydraulic plank of the storage bed and hurriedly removed the bag of polyester sarees from inside. She had spent the last few hours neatly packing them. She&apos;d even thrown in some naphtha balls. Her MIL had called a few minutes back to say koi lockdown announce kiya hai aisa bol rahe hai yahaan par. Her flight had been cancelled. #hindi #english (polyester sarees - wrinkle-free, great-for-rough-and-tough-work sarees) (naphtha balls ~ moth balls) (koi lockdown announce kiya h...]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>She lifted the hydraulic plank of the storage bed and hurriedly removed the bag of <strong>polyester sarees</strong> from inside. She had spent the last few hours neatly packing them. She&apos;d even thrown in some <strong>naphtha balls.</strong></p><p>Her MIL had called a few minutes back to say <strong>koi lockdown announce kiya hai aisa bol rahe hai yahaan par</strong>. Her flight had been cancelled.</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p>(<strong>polyester sarees -</strong> wrinkle-free, great-for-rough-and-tough-work sarees)</p><p>(<strong>naphtha balls</strong> ~ moth balls)</p><p>(<strong>koi lockdown announce kiya hai aisa bol rahe hai yahaan par</strong> - they are announcing here that there is some lockdown that’s been declared)</p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#12 | stories in everyday-speak]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/12-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>5rz9TwuLxktAMZJHJCSv</guid>
            <pubDate>Thu, 28 Oct 2021 05:12:55 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Evdhi maati lagtech kashi tula, Nirmal? she glared and said. Full divas zaail ataa, she added. She placed herself on a stool in front of her ZZ plant and wiped each leaf with care. Her plants were the only ones who listened to all that she wanted to say. #marathi #english (Evdhi maati lagtech kashi tula - how on earth do you get so much mud on you?) (Nirmal - a popular Indian name, meaning pure / clean) (Full divas zaail ataa - The whole day will pass by tending to you)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Evdhi maati lagtech kashi tula, Nirmal?</strong> she glared and said. <strong>Full divas zaail ataa,</strong> she added. She placed herself on a stool in front of her ZZ plant and wiped each leaf with care. Her plants were the only ones who listened to all that she wanted to say.</p><p>#marathi #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Evdhi maati lagtech kashi tula -</em></strong><em> how on earth do you get so much mud on you?)</em></p><p><strong><em>(Nirmal</em></strong> <em>- a popular Indian name, meaning pure / clean)</em></p><p><strong><em>(Full divas zaail ataa -</em></strong> <em>The whole day will pass by tending to you)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#11 | stories in everyday-speak]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/11-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>T1YqrPbjgn9nCVVpBCuD</guid>
            <pubDate>Thu, 28 Oct 2021 05:08:18 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[The leather suitcase on top of the steel cupboard had a thick layer of dust on it. She wiped it in a straight line to reveal its shine underneath. Arre, usey neeche utaaro Kavita bai. Zaraa dekhte toh hai Amrika le jaane ke laayak hai bhi ya nahi, the woman instructing her said. Bhabhi, I will be able to go alone na? said Kavita. #hindi #english (Arre - a call to attention / an expression of mild frustration / hey!) (usey neeche utaaro - lift it and bring it down) (bai - an older style of add...]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The leather suitcase on top of the steel cupboard had a thick layer of dust on it. She wiped it in a straight line to reveal its shine underneath. <strong>Arre, usey neeche utaaro</strong> Kavita <strong>bai. Zaraa dekhte toh hai Amrika le jaane ke laayak hai bhi ya nahi,</strong> the woman instructing her said.</p><p><strong>Bhabhi</strong>, I will be able to go alone <strong>na?</strong> said Kavita.</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Arre</em></strong><em> - a call to attention / an expression of mild frustration / hey!)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>usey neeche utaaro</em></strong><em> - lift it and bring it down)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>bai</em></strong><em> - an older style of addressing the house help)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Zaraa dekhte toh hai Amrika le jaane ke laayak hai bhi ya nahi</em></strong><em> - let’s see if it is strong enough to make the journey to America)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Bhabhi</em></strong><em> - a way of addressing someone older than you ~ literally, a term for ‘your brother’s wife’)</em></p><p><strong><em>(na?</em></strong> <em>- no?)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#10 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/10-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>I1VD9cZbPbCRld0vz7It</guid>
            <pubDate>Thu, 28 Oct 2021 04:57:57 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[&apos;Kombdi palali&apos; means the hen ran (away), &apos;tangdi dharun&apos; means holding her leg, &apos;langdi ghalaya lagli&apos; means she started hopping on one leg. Understand now? The little boy asked his new parents from France. #marathi #english (Kombdi palali is one of the most popular Marathi songs in India, alongside Zingaat)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>&apos;Kombdi palali&apos;</strong> means the hen ran (away), <strong>&apos;tangdi dharun&apos;</strong> means holding her leg, <strong>&apos;langdi ghalaya lagli&apos;</strong> means she started hopping on one leg. Understand now? The little boy asked his new parents from France.</p><p>#marathi #english</p><p>(<a target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer nofollow ugc" class="dont-break-out" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8gT_t3aAVw">Kombdi palali</a> is one of the most popular Marathi songs in India, alongside <a target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer nofollow ugc" class="dont-break-out" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gcsgfzqN8k">Zingaat</a>)</p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#9 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/9-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>1FNPVKwQxPcmMDbEBX7V</guid>
            <pubDate>Thu, 28 Oct 2021 04:47:15 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Who&apos;s a good boy? Huh huh? My baccha. You&apos;re hungry? Oh no no no, you want to play. Why so naughty you&apos;ve become? My baccha. She froze when she turned around and saw him standing at the door. She gently put the pillow in her hand back on the bed. #hindi #english (baccha - baby)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Who&apos;s a good boy? Huh huh? My <strong>baccha</strong>. You&apos;re hungry? Oh no no no, you want to play. Why so naughty you&apos;ve become? My <strong>baccha</strong>. She froze when she turned around and saw him standing at the door. She gently put the pillow in her hand back on the bed.</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>baccha</em></strong><em> - baby)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#8 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/8-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>i1HI8NzW3i7eApspVXHM</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 06:46:37 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[The two aunties in their nighties covered with a dupatta spoke loudly about the security guard and his supposedly najaayaz son as they crossed my window. I didn&apos;t need an alarm anymore. It had to be 7am. They were on their daily morning walk. #hindi #english (nighties - a cotton nightgown worn by older women usually) (dupatta - a long scarf, many times worn to cover the upper body) (najaayaz - illegitimate)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The two aunties in their <strong>nighties</strong> covered with a <strong>dupatta</strong> spoke loudly about the security guard and his supposedly <strong>najaayaz</strong> son as they crossed my window. I didn&apos;t need an alarm anymore. It had to be 7am. They were on their daily morning walk.</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p><strong><em>(nighties -</em></strong> <em>a cotton nightgown worn by older women usually)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>dupatta</em></strong><em> - a long scarf, many times worn to cover the upper body)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>najaayaz -</em></strong><em> illegitimate)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#7 | stories in everyday-speak]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/7-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>KG3o2TLJzZfr2euinspB</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 06:32:31 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Amma, bap-meokja, she said as hopped into the kitchen. You learn to cook that bap first, her mother yelled unexpectedly. No oppa is going to come to make bap and cha for you here in India, she added. The daughter stood stunned. #korean #english #hallyu (Amma ~ similar to Eomma in Korean - Mom, in many south Indian languages like Kannada, Tamil, Malayalam, Telugu, Konkani among others) (bap-meokja - let’s eat) (oppa - a male significant other) (bap - food / rice) (cha - tea)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Amma, bap-meokja</strong>, she said as hopped into the kitchen. You learn to cook that <strong>bap</strong> first, her mother yelled unexpectedly. No <strong>oppa</strong> is going to come to make <strong>bap</strong> and <strong>cha</strong> for you here in India, she added. The daughter stood stunned.</p><p>#korean #english #hallyu</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Amma</em></strong><em> ~ similar to Eomma in Korean - Mom, in many south Indian languages like Kannada, Tamil, Malayalam, Telugu, Konkani among others)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>bap-meokja</em></strong><em> - let’s eat)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>oppa</em></strong><em> - a male significant other)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>bap</em></strong><em> - food / rice)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>cha</em></strong><em> - tea)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#6 | stories in everyday-speak]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/6-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>d9uNL3rMzLr3NMalgS2f</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 06:13:25 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Chal fugdi ghaluya, one aunty said to her friend. After spinning at top speed for 10 seconds, she fell with a thud on her backside. The lockdown had taken away her agility. She was helped up, she said she was ekdum firstclass & joined the older aunties who were clapping on the side. #marathi #english (Chal fugdi ghaluya - come let’s play fugdi) (ekdum firstclass - GREAT!)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Chal fugdi ghaluya</strong>, one aunty said to her friend. After spinning at top speed for 10 seconds, she fell with a thud on her backside. The lockdown had taken away her agility. She was helped up, she said she was <strong>ekdum firstclass</strong> &amp; joined the older aunties who were clapping on the side.</p><p>#marathi #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Chal fugdi ghaluya</em></strong><em> - come let’s play </em><a target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer nofollow ugc" class="dont-break-out" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fugdi"><em>fugdi</em></a><em>)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>ekdum firstclass</em></strong><em> - GREAT!)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#5 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/5-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>siDiV4u8u0le9hSvyGGv</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 05:49:36 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Change illa, saar, the shopkeeper said. Bitcoin-al kodla? Ayyo sari, okay. Kodi, the buyer said bagging the two lithium-ion batteries on the counter. #kannada #english (Change illa, saar - I don’t have change, sir) (Bitcoin-al kodla? - shall I give it to you in Bitcoin?) (Ayyo sari - Yeah, whatever. Okay) (Kodi - please give)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Change illa, saar</strong>, the shopkeeper said. <strong>Bitcoin-al kodla</strong>? <strong>Ayyo sari</strong>, okay. <strong>Kodi</strong>, the buyer said bagging the two lithium-ion batteries on the counter.</p><p>#kannada #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Change illa, saar</em></strong><em> - I don’t have change, sir)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Bitcoin-al kodla</em></strong><em>? - shall I give it to you in Bitcoin?)</em></p><p><strong><em>(Ayyo sari</em></strong> <em>- Yeah, whatever. Okay)</em></p><p><strong><em>(Kodi</em></strong> <em>- please give)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#4 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/4-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>LuQhwcBlOUgpdjQ48fSK</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 05:13:57 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[He was bawling in the middle of the street. I brought him water. Some aunties were curiously asking each other, what happened? Some were trying to console him. Mujhe ghar jaana hai, he said. His greying beard had fresh bits of food on it. Pataa nahi maloom, he added between sobs. #hindi #english (Mujhe ghar jaana hai - I want to go home) (Pataa nahi maloom - I don’t know the address)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>He was bawling in the middle of the street. I brought him water. Some aunties were curiously asking each other, what happened? Some were trying to console him. <strong>Mujhe ghar jaana hai,</strong> he said. His greying beard had fresh bits of food on it. <strong>Pataa nahi maloom</strong>, he added between sobs.</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p>(<strong><em>Mujhe ghar jaana hai</em></strong> <em>- I want to go home)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Pataa nahi maloom</em></strong><em> - I don’t know the address)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#3 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/3-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>XNWlpljleUClKoUEornS</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 05:08:43 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Jamwa ma shu cche, he asked Siri. Kaay pan nathi, she said. Paani cche, joyecche? she added. Chaalse, he said. She threw him a bottle. He missed catching it. It shattered on the floor. Tch, she said and hovered over to clean it up. #gujarati #english (Jamwa ma shu cche - what’s there’s to eat?) (Kaay pan nathi - nothing at all) (Paani cche, joyecche? - There’s water. Do you want some?) (Chaalse - Yeah, okay)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Jamwa ma shu cche</strong>, he asked Siri. <strong>Kaay pan nathi</strong>, she said. <strong>Paani cche, joyecche?</strong> she added. <strong>Chaalse</strong>, he said. She threw him a bottle. He missed catching it. It shattered on the floor. Tch, she said and hovered over to clean it up.</p><p>#gujarati #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Jamwa ma shu cche</em></strong><em> - what’s there’s to eat?)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Kaay pan nathi</em></strong><em> - nothing at all)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Paani cche, joyecche?</em></strong><em> - There’s water. Do you want some?)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Chaalse</em></strong><em> - Yeah, okay)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#2 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/2-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>FdW6E30gYlBZ15PUdIXg</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 05:05:33 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Sleeveless pehnegi toh I will not come with you, he said, adjusting his uncomfortably tight pants. #hindi #english (Sleeveless pehnegi toh - If you wear that sleeveless top / dress)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Sleeveless pehnegi toh</strong> I will not come with you, he said, adjusting his uncomfortably tight pants.</p><p>#hindi #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Sleeveless pehnegi toh</em></strong><em> - If you wear that sleeveless top / dress)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
        <item>
            <title><![CDATA[#1 | stories in everyday-speak.]]></title>
            <link>https://paragraph.com/@microfiction-from-india/1-stories-in-everyday-speak</link>
            <guid>UaJayXtxBbTnjjKEjbHi</guid>
            <pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 2021 05:02:43 GMT</pubDate>
            <description><![CDATA[Namaskara! she said to the uncle sitting in the living room while checking if her bottu was still in place on her forehead. It wasn&apos;t. She ran in. #kannada #english (Namaskara - Hello!) (bottu - bindi / ornamental dot on the forehead)]]></description>
            <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>Namaskara!</strong> she said to the uncle sitting in the living room while checking if her <strong>bottu</strong> was still in place on her forehead. It wasn&apos;t. She ran in.</p><p>#kannada #english</p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>Namaskara</em></strong><em> - Hello!)</em></p><p><em>(</em><strong><em>bottu</em></strong><em> - bindi / ornamental dot on the forehead)</em></p>]]></content:encoded>
            <author>microfiction-from-india@newsletter.paragraph.com (#microfiction from India)</author>
        </item>
    </channel>
</rss>