Gen Z AND M(e)-LLENNIAL
“Hey blud!! Pass me the ball.” The young boy in his early 20s shouted from the centre of the field. I chose to ignore it, assuming he was screaming at his teammates. I gave him a short glance for his unique raspy voice, which might have happened due to his constant screams for an hour, and returned to the book I was reading. I sat on the bench, emplaced at the farthest corner of the ground. The hoarse voice now sounds very near to me when he enquired harshly about not passing him the ball. The ball was lying near my feet. I noticed it now. I was surprised and replied, ‘What? You were talking to some ‘blud’, maybe your teammate. How am I supposed to know?’. ‘Huh! I was looking at you, and by blud, I meant you.’ ‘My name is not ‘blud.’ I made a rather crabby expression. ‘OMG! FYI, ‘blud’ means friend. IYKYK.’ He laughed, he mocked, and he ran. ‘BTW, that jacket u wear is gucci.’ He shouted. I replied sternly, ‘No, it's Puma. I cannot afford a Gucci man.’ He stopped and laugh...