My Parents were frantically moving around with X-Rays and reports of all the medical examinations that I’ve been through lately.
None could tell me what my problem exactly is, at least, not as of now.
I sat in one of those hospital chairs, restless of all the hustle-bustle around me, but the inability to do so in me. I held on to my stomach that was burning like hell. I felt like having been placed inside a hot oven to be baked as a cookie.
“Ouch!” I yelled in utter pain.
My Mum grimaced. She came to my side and handed me the water bottle.
“Must be ulcer. Don’t worry, we’ll get rid of it somehow,” she consoled me.
My digestive tracts cooled down a bit, once I slurped down the cold water.
Yet, the burning lingered. Continue reading
“Teju, concentrate!” I kept ordering myself.
Little tiny butterflies kept fluttering inside my tummy.
A sudden vibration feeling kept tugging at me now and then. The table in front of me was strewn with notes, files, models, blue-prints and what-not.
My table was hidden in a well-cosy spot.
“So, this type of an elevation will keep out the dark shadows Continue reading
We attended the same college time and again.
And I’ve seen her too many times. But, not once have I talked to her.
Yet, that day, she kept staring at me, from the time our eyes accidentally met each other.
Well, I must admit!
She looked stunning that day, draped in a pink, white and golden bordered Warli painting sari, for the inter-college competition that our department hosted.
That was the day, when I even noticed that she existed as my second year junior and that was the day, our eyes fell upon each other.
“Brrr..” I vibrated with much enthusiasm, emitting alongside a loud chime.
“Ta da!” – I finished my chime with that ecstatic note, conveying to the owner of a proud me, that my battery is fully charged.
A few moments later, I felt someone disconnect the USB cable separating me from her. Well, yea, the USB cable is like the umbilical cord (just like connecting the baby to the mother) connecting me to the charger head.
Yet, my sorrow of separation was short lived as the usual hands that touch and tickle me by the ‘Swipe left, swipe up’ – touch sensitive commands, switched me on.
“Oh! How lovely I look!” I’d think every time I see myself in my owner’s eyes.
Oh boy! Please don’t think I’m beauty conscious! I’m service-oriented too, instantly delivering what my owner wants.
She says – “OK Google.” Continue reading
‘I wanted to pen down a racy prologue for my novel, which kept people on the edge of their seats, glued to the book.
I had free time in the office now. But, due to writer’s block (pardon my excuse) I wasn’t able to write one based on my novel’s theme. The bunch of blank sheets I had, had exhausted long-back. The trashcan was now overflowing with crumpled papers.
“Aaarrrggghhh!” I got frustrated. Continue reading
The room was a complete buzz.
“Is she ready?” I heard my mom’s frantic voice from nowhere.
“Haan, yes! But we need five more minutes,” my elder sister, Shwetha, who was placing flowers on my head, managed to speak between her teeth that held a hairpin.
I beamed at my mirror image and felt my heart beating faster. My wedding ceremony! And that’s why I’m nervous.
“Aunty, you look pretty!” my five year old niece, Tanu complimented me.
I grinned at her and pecked her cheek. I held Tanu’s pinky finger tightly due to nervousness.
“All set?” my sister asked me.
I began writing this piece of blog when I had to wait at that Beauty Parlour, while the beautician was treating her regular customer, but according to me, a second-comer…
As I swung the door of that Unisex saloon, I caught a whiff of the fragrance from various hair sprays, hair lotions and other make-up stuff organized in neat arrays over the glass shelves. I turned my gaze around and was met with too many Taras reflected from those human-size mirrors.
To : firstname.lastname@example.org
Subject : Send me mails please😐
Hey!! How are you?!! Guess what?! I’ve had a most fantafabulous day.. But, I just wanted to remind you I wanna tell you all this in a mail.
I was standing in the 116 street Manhattan subway station, holding a file filled with papers, waiting for my train. In the opposite lane, there stood a train heading towards Bronx. As the train started to leave, the air surrounding the station got accelerated. Along with the air a paper came, hit and landed on my shoulder. It kinda seemed like a resume.
“Sorry sorry. Its mine”, said a girl and got back her resume from my hand. She was in her business attire.Her skin color, eye lashes and body curves revealed me that she too is an Indian.
Dedicated to that special friend, who will always hold a special place in my heart, though I may not voice out my thoughts except through my writing…
I sat down, devastated, with a flop on the chair as I read that wedding invitation embedded with tiny red hearts and the photo of a couple.
‘We, Karthik and Reshma
Cordially invite you
To grace this auspicious occasion
As we tie the knot…’
I could read no more.
“Sam,” my friend called out to me in dismay as I didn’t respond to her frequent calls.
No, just because she called me ‘Sam’, don’t jump to a conclusion Reshma is my ex-lover and blah, blah, blah.
Sam.. Short for Samyuktha…
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