Dabara Tumbler book and story is written by Omahazeeya in English . This story is getting good reader response on Matrubharti app and web since it is published free to read for all readers online. Dabara Tumbler is also popular in Fiction Stories in English and it is receiving from online readers very fast. Signup now to get access to this story.
Dabara Tumbler - Novels
by Omahazeeya
in
English Fiction Stories
It should not have been more than ten in the morning when my phone started chiming, quaking against the hard clapboard nightstand next to my bed. I rubbed my face in exasperation. My head was weighing the earths even at the unadorned consciousness I had gained at the slightest perusal of my phone's ringing. I could sense my brain ferociously pounding inside my skull in sickening gripes, already coupling with the hefty semblance. I have been there before –this brash headache and shaky sensation fumbling in me; maybe they'll break the spirits, when I have had a cup of coffee,
It should not have been more than ten in the morning when my phone started chiming, quaking against the hard clapboard nightstand next to my bed. I rubbed my face in exasperation. My head was weighing the ...Read Moreeven at the unadorned consciousness I had gained at the slightest perusal of my phone's ringing. I could sense my brain ferociously pounding inside my skull in sickening gripes, already coupling with the hefty semblance. I have been there before –this brash headache and shaky sensation fumbling in me; maybe they'll break the spirits, when I have had a cup of coffee,
I Want Some Real Human Interaction "Hey, Meena, hold on to this. I'll be back." Raghav declared, flinging his leg to the front getting off his two-wheeler. Meena raised her brow at his impetuous action as she hastily ...Read Moreher mobile in her handbag, and tipped forward to clasp the handle bar. Thank heavens; she had not draped a saree in devotion to her colleague's wedding. It was only a salwar. Stamping both her feet firm against the plane of the road, she maneuvered to get a grip on the motor cycle, her sable eyes
Himani was out of sleep at the raucous clang from outside her room. She just heard it. Startled at the clamour she believed she'd heard, she stirred up on her bed. She was not able to figure out ...Read Moreit –the abrupt, fluky clang was real or she was just dreaming it, yet. Himani blinked her sleep hooded eyes, tuning her vision to the invading darkness. When she'd tucked the thick lock of hair behind her ear, availing her slumberous, frazzled self to fit the horrendous moment that'd commenced already, there was some more of it –the intense clang. But
Wrapping up her work for the day, Khushi folded her laptop and crammed it inside her backpack before popping the chiming reminder off, on her phone's display. Dosa batter, it read—it was a reminder she'd set to jog her ...Read Moreto soak rice and urad dhal in order to get the week's batch of dosa batter ready. Had she been home at the time of her reminder, she'd have gleefully plugged away, doing the chore. Time was five-twenty five, on a Friday evening and she was still in office. There hadn't been a smallish interval for her to leave her
Himani exited the bathroom, when delicate tufts of the sunlight had started faltering over the crinkled bed, seeping through her window shields. Sauntering over to the windows, she pushed the screens apart as the balmy, luminous light glistened at ...Read Moreface. She dumped the used up clothes in the laundry basket and strolled up to her wardrobe, soft whorls of her lush hair skidding over her shoulders. She singled out her most favorite chef jacket that was tidy, wrinkle free and was hanging—the pearl gray one, with her name embroidered on the breast pocket, that her mom had gifted her