A Writing Quill

  “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 la...

  The old man would sit by the sea all day, not eating or drinking much except for the loaf of bread with a bottle of water at noon. He would dress like a gentleman and stare at the sea for hours and hours. Few people would come to him and say a few words. The same people every time. He would ask them certain questions, and then they would leave. These people sometimes would laugh; sometimes cry; sometimes smile; and sometimes, left with no countenance. The shopkeepers from a distant would assume whatever they liked. There were a lot of conjectures among the daily visitors of the sea. Some would greet him with a suspicious smile, while a few would stare at him from the corner of their eyes while pretending with some of their workout moves. A teenager was a regular runner. Her mother accompanied her always, who was one among the few visitors mentioned above. She would smile wearily at the old man if their eyes would meet while she tried to sneak it, but unfortunately could not. The...

Who would rescue when the lonely Suzain would find no solace in her solitude ? She kept wondering. Always. She would not go out to mingle with people and sit at her desk all day writing something beautiful, that no one had read. She says it is lovely but who knows what it is. One fine morning she woke up determined to conclude her loneliness. Dressed beautifully, as she said, gone out of the house in search of the knight in shining armor . She rambled in places and coffee shops. She ate and shopped. Upon reaching home, she realized she had not done what she was meant to: search for the knight in shining armor. So went out the next morning again, determined and confident, as she said. She saw the water park , and after walking a few miles, excited and elated, she bought the ticket and went inside to explore it. She had fun while she tried every game. Came out of it in the evening, tired but happy. She lost track of her determination and surrendered herself to the cozy bed at her home a...

This year started with a noisy thump reflecting the unanticipated exertion of the last days of last year’s mishappening. It was murky and negatively eventful. The sudden death of my father-in-law left an unexplainable inconsistency in each of our lives.   There were plans and several talks on many future events in our lives, and then suddenly we came to know of his death. Death is inevitable, but when it surprises us, it gives jitters to our sense organs, bringing us back to the universal truth of life that ‘man is mortal’. He was a jolly person, and he lived his life to the fullest. An important fact is to ‘live’ the life, irrespective of the situation, standing bold and without faltering. We should not reciprocate happiness or grief with the same, but should ardently follow only one maxim: live. I saw the two puppies fighting and shoving each other, competing to reach the other side of the road where their mother was feeding another one similar to these two. Ah! it was the m...

The Sunday winter morning was cold and lazy in Delhi . Mr. Natwarlal routinely woke up at 6 A.M. He insisted that his wife, Archana , follow the same routine but she unabashedly denied his proposals. She continued her sleep with the zizz inside the soft blanket that lovingly hugged her from head to toe. The blanket was warm now from her body heat, which was in the end, folded by her feet towards the inside, while its other end was squeezed by her hands tucking it tightly with her body, restricting the slightest wind from entering inside. Natwarlal headed to the kitchen, murmuring something inaudible, to make his morning tea—the real reason he wanted his wife to follow this routine. He was a disaster inside the kitchen. The utensils would fall on the ground with a loud sound, and there would be constant commotion until he left the cooking area. Everyone would get disturbed, and he held pride in his non-dependency on anybody in the family. At about 6.30 A.M. he would go for his routin...

The five girlfriends met for coffee dates; a ritual to be followed once every month, preferably on Sundays. First Sunday of August. Sunita was the last one to join today, ‘hey! My pretty ladies, wazz up?’ ‘Huh. You are late’, Lata retorted. ‘I am so sorry, girls. I was stuck with this long board meeting. I don’t have rest on Sundays, too. If not office, then video calls. I am just stuck with my job. It rules my life.’ Sunita spoke with this unceasing array of complaints that had engulfed her life for the past few years. ‘At least you have some productive thing to crib about. Look at me. I am this MTech from NIT and still slogging my ass from dawn to dusk taking care of each need of my in-laws, husband, and two children. Nothing pertains to me. It's only about them. And now if I tell him about joining a company, my husband recommends me a teaching job rather. I did take up a job a few months back. It offered me relaxation as I was working from home. But once I started my...

The man somehow managed to get inside the train and propelled his fragile and old palm to catch hold of his beloved’s hand who was struggling in the crowd to board it. Their son was already making efforts by shoving the few young passengers who were not letting his parents get up on the train. The old couple was going to the lady’s hometown, which would be a three-hour journey by train and almost seven hours by car. They insisted on choosing the train despite several arguments with the son, who strongly opinionated to travel by car because of their advancing age. But after many heated debates, the couple won stating they wanted to relive the past days for the last time as they assumed it would be impossible in the future because of their failing health and that now, they could manage themselves considerably. The worried son waved at his parents as a gesture of a pleasant journey while the gleaming parents reciprocated him with a higher spirit and happiness. Their...