The Moonstruck Columns

Matheran In The Rains

Only the crunching of our footsteps could be heard as the pebbles displaced beneath our feet. We marched the rain-eroded, path in silence—our steps in rhythm with each other. The hills of Matheran weren’t exactly as elevated as a mountain. Yet, it didn’t make it any less perilous.Read The Story


What was so special about that one particular night, he could never figure out. He could definitely explain a few things, maybe it was the sound of her voice, or how the weather knew when not to rain in a typical monsoon night. But he could never pinpoint it out.Read The Story