The microphone had been waiting longer than anyone in the room. It stood upright in the centre of the studio, silver ribs catching the soft amber light, its wire coiled like a patient serpent at its feet. The tanpura strings had already been tuned, the tabla skin tightened, the harmonium tested with a cautious breath. Through the thick glass panel, the sound engineer adjusted his headphones and peered into the quiet, expectant chamber. Outside, the city pressed its ear against the night, unaware that history was about to be exhaled into tape.
To read the full story and 19 other short stories in this series click on the links below:
This story is part of the book Unknown Companions, my second printed collection of short stories, bringing together twenty quiet encounters between well-known Indians and the animals who moved through their lives.
These stories do not revisit achievement. They turn toward the smaller presences history rarely records: a dog waiting at a doorway, a bird crossing a garden, a stray who appears at an unexpected hour. In such moments, reputation falls silent and a different kind of companionship becomes visible.
Rooted in real lives and shaped by the quiet crossings between humans and animals, this collection gathers the unnoticed companions who stood briefly beside lives that history remembers for other reasons.
If you have found something here that stayed with you, some of my other books (collection of short stories, novels, and more) are now available in print and digital editions. They gather many unique journeys, quieter questions, and stories that continue beyond this page.
Weekend Stories by Trishikh 