In Vacant or in Pensive Mood

Since the time I remember, I've always been one of those persons who lived far away. When I was a kid, my home was only about 5 kms from school, but when compared to the other kids who could just walk up to school in a matter of 5 minutes, I lived far away. As I grew up over the years, the distance I've had to travel on a regular basis has also progressively grown. I did my Bachelor's degree in a place about 10 kms from my home, my first job was a little farther, and the college where I did my Master's degree a bit more. Well, you get the picture! It has never been far enough to stay in a hostel, but it has always been quite a time-consuming commute. Now, I travel roughly about 45 kilometres every day in my commute between home and work. Sometimes, I choose to ride my two-wheeler, sometimes I choose to travel by public transport. Either way, my journey is long enough for my mind to sink in and get lost in a world of thoughts. I have found that these journ...

She was uncomfortable, a misfit, and maybe a little quaint. The way she wore her bangs, the way her lips curled when she spoke; all of these were reasons for people to find her weird. She was unfamiliar with the local language, and she spoke English with a foreign accent; yet she looked very South Indian. That was enough for people to think she had an "attitude problem". People said she was a girl who looked down at others, so they stood far from her and judged her. She sat in a quiet forgotten corner of the classroom, right next to the back door that nobody used. It was perhaps her escape route. She had an excuse for not staying back after class like most others did to just "hang out" - a diploma class in the neighbouring college. Everybody called her a loner. For a brief period of time, a friend walked into her life; someone who seemed to understand her. She opened up to this friend like she hadn't to anyone else in the class before,  and they shared c...

Once again, I managed to drag myself out of bed, bathe in heated water, dress up in a hurry, partially comb my wet hair, and finally rush to the bus stop at 6:45 am. My earrings and safety pins were still clenched in my fist, and the things inside the bag slung over my shoulder lay cluttered as I pulled out my ID card and wore it around my neck. The bus would be there any minute. The bus arrived at 6:50 am, and I boarded it with a smile, and waded through the aisle as I looked for a place to sit. Coming to two empty seats adjacent to each other, I dropped my bag into the first one, and slid my own self into the other one by the window. I opened out the closed window and immediately felt content as the pleasant morning breeze made its way in. Quickly, I organized the things in my bag, put on my earrings, pinned up my clothes wherever necessary, opened out my hair and combed it lightly. Then I adjusted my seat to just the right position; pushed back so that I could lean comfortably,...

“It’s kinda funny how life can change. Can flip 180 in a matter of days...” - BLUE Our life is a journey, and it is what we make it to be. We draw up a course for ourselves; deciding, planning, contemplating, and taking determined steps into the future. But sometimes, life chooses to make changes on its own. Once in a while, it alters its course from the usual, and decides to take an unexpected turn. These changes break our mundane routines, and come as pleasant or unpleasant surprises. Either way, an unexpected challenge or change thrown at us by life causes us some excitement, urges us to be creative, and teaches us to think on our feet. Sometimes these changes are welcoming, but sometimes we don’t know what it has in store for us. Such was my opportunity to be associated with a multinational IT company. I was a student from a humanist stream of study, and I strongly believed against the IT industry. I disliked everything I knew about this industry; the centralised air-condi...

I think I like novels better than short stories. Novels begin and end well. They start easy, get thick and difficult around the middle and finally conclude on a note you may or may not agree with. You become the character in the novel, you live and grow, fall in love, get hurt, face difficult situations, survive, or die. When you have read through from cover to cover, you are almost proud of the character you have been, and the life you have lived as the character in the book. If you are not proud of the character, then maybe you didn’t like the book; but that is something else. At the end of the novel, whether you liked it or not, you feel the satisfaction, or the dissatisfaction, of a life lived. Sometimes you feel tired and exhausted from all the action. You are happy, nevertheless, because you know how it ended.  (This is for readers like me who get so involved in the book that when I am forced to take a break from reading, I am almost a zombie. My body is in this world, but...