What pisses me off the most is when people do not do their designated work. If someone so loves to stand out of the system, one should act like a rebel. Rebels I love, lazy asses I hate to the core of my heart. All sorts of weird things have happened with me in the last few days. Yes, there is a certain limit after which you just cannot control the good or bad from happening, but there has to be a certain limit defined to stop the bullshit as well. I love the place where I live and I love the place where I work for a common reason: the degree of silence is pretty high at both the places. I can hear ants crawling in my room and I can listen to what is happening at the ground floor from my office at the first floor. I am a peace lover, well physically. Mentally, I am in a rush all the time. Continue reading
Posts tagged "Home"
The Roommate Chronicles
How long a time is six months? Is it long enough to know someone? Is it long enough to fully understand someone? Is it long enough to develop a lifelong friendship with someone? Is it long enough to fall in love with someone? Is it long enough to fall out of love with someone? No matter how long a time is six months, it is not long enough to stop surprising at the unbelievable things my roommate does. The point to be noted is that he does so many unbelievably irritating things that I felt the need to write and dedicate an entirely new series related to all the roommates I have lived with. Continue reading
Many stories begin when we decide to pay attention towards something that is awkward and out of the normal. This one is no different. This is the story of a girl. Or perhaps I should say this is the story of a father. I tend to change my stance because we are, at birth, equal halves of both of our parents. With time, the one parent who inspires us more, takes over the other half part, carves our identity and makes us a certain person for the rest of our lives. The same happened with the girl whose story I am going to tell you now. Her father used to tell her everyday that she is beautiful. Some of the days she believed him. The other days, she was unable to trust the soothing words and wouldn’t react at the love his father poured at her. During those sad days, when nothing could cheer her up, she felt a darkness growing around her. A darkness. Constantly. Growing. Continue reading
Harish was on phone when Sunny spotted him coming out of the airport.
Quite a busy man.
He waved at Harish, who was still searching for a familiar face in the crowd. His eyes stopped at Sunny and a bright smile appeared on his face. He pointed a finger towards Sunny and made a poking gesture while biting his lower lip.
Still the same.
They hugged each other tightly for a long time without saying a word. Sunny was the one to speak first.
“You’re still the same. Lean.”
“But you have added a lot of extra weight around your waist, can hardly clutch you like I used to!”
“Yeah man, what you know about the perks of having a wife anyway.”
“Woah! I thought fifteen years would have changed you a bit, you too are still the same. Sarcastic!” Continue reading
“How many twos are there in an eight?” Sandhya literally shouted at Divya this time. Poor Divya was trying her best to figure out the answer without using the calculator, as her mother, Sandhya, had ordered. After spending several minutes playing with her hair and eating the back of the pencil, thinking how on Earth will knowing the number of twos in an eight help her in her life, she gave up. She looked at her mother innocently and shrugged in disappointment. Sandhya’s anger levels shot up and she raised her hand to hit Divya. Before it could reach Divya’s cheeks, tears dwelled up in Divya’s eyes and she started to sob.
“Not again Divya! Divide eight by two and tell me the correct answer quickly”, Sandhya said. Although she was losing her composure seeing her daughter cry, she also wanted her daughter to solve the basic mathematical questions without the help of a calculator. Continue reading
By Aman Chawla
There isn’t a better moment in a man’s life, than holding a girl in his arms, and if the girl is a 6 years old baby, words fail to confine his feelings. It was the same feeling for him when Navya was in his arms. She was not sleepy, or maybe she was, but was definitely in no mood to go to bed. Which daughter in the world would want to miss the joy of staying in the arms of her father?
“Dad, what does an adopted child mean?” she asked in a husky voice.
He paused for a moment and asked “Where did you hear this?”
“Today grandma was telling mumma that I am just an adopted child. Tell daddy, what does it mean?” Continue reading