Below is the link to my first complete short story. Not trying to scare you off but just letting you know beforehand that it's about 3000 words. I'd really really appreciate if you could provide me with your critiques and comments. Thanks.
Happy Reading!
 http://mywritingsandstories.blogspot.com/2012/01/remorse-short-story.html

Great story.

Thanks for your appreciation halo.

awesome story. sad though :(

That was a cool story!!!! thought it was short so started reading!!!! I had to leave for something important but could not get up!!!!!! every moment in the story was putting me in depth of the story!!!!
Great work keep it up!!!!!!!

SPOILER ALERT!!

Valley,
My criticism is purely just an opinion and I don't want to discourage you. Do take it with a grain of salt since I claim to be neither a writer, nor a critic!

Overall I am neutral about your story. You do have a good observation skills. Your progression was well done, and the story had a depth in little character development that was done. But there were instances of bad editing, predictable story plot, and a cloyingly emotional ending.

A couple of things that threw me off was grammar: 

Ramila; my husband's friend's wife was wearing at a party the other day. should be
Ramila, my husband's friend's wife, was
silk saree Pratima; my husband's friend's wife wore at a party the other day.
silk saree Pratima, my husband's friend's wife, wore at a party the other day.

I understand it's your first story, but I see a plot that's very predictable. A houseworker gets accused of stealing, gets fired from work, owner finds out the truth, and remorse settles in. There was nothing that was gripping me to the story.

Finally, your conclusion almost aggravated me.
"Perhaps that's the whole purpose of childhood; human life in it's purest and innocent form, to teach us adults how to live our lives. Perhaps we can all learn from children, not just learn how they learn, but learn how they forget. "

That sounds like you would have loved to have an amnesia about this episode. I am struggling to find a level of maturity in the conclusion. Comparing childhood innocence to forgetting what should shock you everytime you accuse someone of wrongdoing is very childish indeed.

What do I mean by more mature? something like "I still owe the earrings, though I never wear them. Every now and then after an argument with my  husband, I peek at my jewelry box. The fading layer of gold keeps me grounded."


FF

@rethink, @aajo: I'm really glad that you enjoyed my story. Thank you so much. 

@fortunefaded: Wow, Thank you so much! That was exactly the kind of critique I was looking forward to when I posted this thing. Thanks for taking your time to dissect, analyze, and provide me such a healthy feedback of my effort. 
I do realize the grammatical mistake, and am going to immediately place the poor discriminated comma in its rightful place.
I do acknowledge the fact the story is quite predictable, I'd definitely try to tweak and twist my imagination when I think of a plot from now on. 
Finally, about the conclusion, in my defense I'd say, "That's what she said!" :). On a serious note, the protagonist thought that if only she could forget what she has done, she won't have to suffer as much. Like the society, like any individual, and like your take on my story, she's not perfect, her thinking isn't always right, it's not always wrong either. And that was what I was trying to portray. 
You don't need to claim about being a writer, or a critic. Your keen observation and suggestion makes me more than sure that not just you can be one, you can be really good at it too. Thanks once again. 

Great Story,

I understood you wanted to show the 'routine' life. But, don't you think you repeated little bit too much? Only thing that's different in your three paragraph is your husband's friend's wife's name! Use different words! 
You copied the first of these three paragraphs, pasted it, added 'One Saturday evening..' at the beginning and changed "your husband's friend's wife's name? to Pratima::::: and made the third paragraph....

I was brandishing the oil lamp around the pictures and idols of gods and goddesses with my right hand, ringing the prayer bell with my left, murmuring some Sanskrit mantras whose meaning I never knew, all the while thinking about the household chores, the office gossips, my son's school, my husband's weird friends, and the nice silk saree Ramila; my husband's friend's wife, wore at a party the other day.

Days rolled by and I was still thinking about the household chores, the office gossips, my son's school, my husband's weird friends, and the nice silk saree Shilpa; my husband's friend's wife, wore at a party the other day, while brandishing the same oil lamp around the gods and goddesses in the altar room with my right hand, ringing the prayer bell with my left, and murmuring the Sanskrit mantras whose meaning I never knew. 

One Saturday evening I was brandishing the oil lamp around the pictures and idols of gods and goddesses with my right hand, ringing the prayer bell with my left, murmuring the Sanskrit mantras whose meaning I never knew, all the while thinking about the household chores, the office gossips, my son's school, my husband's weird friends, and the nice silk saree Pratima; my husband's friend's wife, wore at a party the other day.  

My two cents!