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Pen Stories

Save Her. Save yourself.

She stood, umbrella in hand, trying her hardest not to break into pieces. She had to be strong, for the wait was long. She looked around in the hope of seeing something that could make her smile. But wherever she looked, she was reminded of the humongous task at hand. Continue reading “Save Her. Save yourself.”

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Bonding over a drag

Before a few days, I happened to meet an old school friend on my college campus. What was exciting was the fact that we were meeting after about thirteen years. And it’s even more amazing because I hadn’t thought about him or expected to meet him ever in my life. The last time I saw him, he was a chubby,  ten-year old who was very “fondly” nicknamed complain box. Continue reading “Bonding over a drag”

The writer within

On 15th of June, 2016, exactly on my 15th day at work, I wrote an article titled 12 unsaid rules you have to follow when you are in India for StoryPick. A strong satire describing the funny behaviour that’s showcased in the public arena of almost every street in India. This was the first article that I had actually enjoyed working on during the short tenure of my time with StoryPick. A tiny message popped open on my Slack window that read ‘nice article’. Continue reading “The writer within”

To the ones who dream

Dear dreamer,

Just like you, I lie on my bed, waiting for sleep to come to me. And just like it happens with you, it doesn’t want to come to me. You and I, are cursed with sleepless dreams. Eyes wide, heart beating wild, stomach churning and feet tapping, you and I wait. Wait for the day when peace will wash over us and leave us still. Continue reading “To the ones who dream”

Two Hearts

(For the following story, I used a prompt from the Write India campaign. The bold-italicised paragraphs were mandatory to use.)

‘Are you sure, Rhea?’ asks my mother.

‘Of course I’m. Survival of the fittest, mother. I’m not going against Darwin. Also I don’t want unnecessary scars on my body.’

Continue reading “Two Hearts”

Why do I read?

Twin Quill

I became a part of books and books became an indispensable part of me ever since I was a little girl. Every time my father came home from one of his trips, I expected him to get me a bunch of books, which he most definitely would. Continue reading “Why do I read?”

Metamorphosis

When I was in high school, I remember myself as a bold and a brazen girl. I spoke my mind without the slightest hint of hesitation and was proud of the fact that there was no pretence or underlying meaning in whatsoever I said or did. I believed that I would be the same girl I was then, all my life. But, how wise could a 15 year old girl be?

We live in a restless world that changes with every breath. 

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Continue reading “Metamorphosis”

Framtidsbiblioteket

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I picked up the pen and looked at the plain sheet of paper lying in front of me. It was getting dark. I turned on the study lamp, too lazy to get up and flick on the tube light. The glow from the little bulb made the paper seem yellow. I sighed. I cracked my knuckles; the sound strangely satisfying. I noticed the cracks that seemed to have made unattractive designs on my wooden table. I rested my head on the neck of the chair and tried to think about the task at hand. Instead, I noticed that the ceiling was cracked and needed re-painting. 

Continue reading “Framtidsbiblioteket”

Unrequited love

The Night.

I was inarticulately and irrevocably in love with it. Everything about it attracted me. The Moon, a symbol of calm; imperfectly perfect, it reminded me of him. The Stars gave the sky a profound glitzy look. I tried to count them, One, Two…..Eleven, Twelve….but probably, there were zillions and gazillions of them spread over the velvet cloth. My eyes stretched to the horizon, the Sky was kissing the Earth. It was something everybody could see, but only some who could imagine it and none who could prove it!

Continue reading “Unrequited love”

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