Now That School’s Over

Originally, I decided to start this blog only for the purpose of sharing my Short Story Series, The Darkdoors.

Since I have nothing better to do other than waiting for my last entrance exam, I decided to pen down a little rambling. And not only this, there’ll be many more. Give it a read if you are just as bored as I am. I hope you’ll like it.

There has to be a solution to every thing in the world, a problem without a defined solution, or jugaad as we know it, cannot exist. Well, most of us think that way. Not our fault you see. The kind of surroundings we Indians are born and brought up in, I don’t think we are the ones to blame. We can always blame our teachers, or parents, or traffic, or spilled lemonade.These days I am on spree to find jugaads to this problem called “let’s meet up now that school’s over”. I know school’s over and you have nothing better to do than whatsapp me how you have nothing to do and you expect me to be having nothing better to do too. Bhai aisa nahi hai.

So that annoying person who thinks that he’s your friend but in reality is just a bugger and won’t let you live in peace unless you “make a plan and go out roaming with him/her” because school’s over, fir kab milengey yaar don’t fear when your parents are here! Mummy Ne mana kar dia yaar simple. As stated by all websites worldwide, this one’s the national excuse of our country. This one sentence can stop a bugger of any level.

But make sure you don’t Instagram your day out pictures just the very next day. That can be injurious to health, not as much as smoking is, but nonetheless injurious. But this can’t work for too long. You have to come up with something else, something more realistic like… a wedding in your house! We as Indians, are blessed with countless relatives and those countless maamas and buajis always have countless annoying, rarely awesome kids. So someone is to get married someday. So why not now ! Get one of your bua’s or chacha’s beta/beti married. (Or we can always make up one, all the citizens of this country are my brothers and sisters.. remember ?)

And we all know how awesome Indian weddings are ( sarcasm intended). Anyone to everyone is busy and exhausted. So another excuse is at your disposal. Do some homework yourself, and let me know too. What? I am only human alright, I’ve given you the ones that work the best.

PS You can always switch off your phone. But that takes a lot of courage. Ohh wait…. *whatsapping*

Don’t forget to comment your personal excuses, spread the awareness my friend.

Darkdoors Part 2

Sometimes, it’s refreshing, settling to know that you don’t really know where you are headed, who awaits you, why are you walking, you just walk. Endlessly, religiously.

The blond boy doesn’t say much, just keeps walking looking ahead much like myself. I feel sad for the poor little thing, even though it’s possible that he might not actually exist, he’s just an illusion but nevertheless he’s a little child.
” How much more do we have to walk”  he looks up at me with his deep blue eyes.
” Don’t know, till we find a place where we can sit down and rest for a little while”  I say with a little smile. Smiling has never been my thing. Just a dull person is what people call me. Only if they knew what I do during my pass time. Ironical much.

“Look, look over there!! A cave, a cave!” I follow his gaze and find the little cave that’s got him so excited that he’s practically jumping with joy. I can’t help but reach out and pull his cheeks ever so lightly and he shies away. He’s one adorable little kid.
We walk towards the cave and slowly the redness of the sand lightens, and now it’s actually turning into the actual color of beach sand. That marks ending of a phase, and beginning of another. We have been walking for a long time, the cave didn’t seem so far off when we saw it from then.

The boy had been walking behind me all this while and I never looked back. I know, that’s pretty rude of me. “So little man, you don’t have to walk anymore now, we are here!”  I get no reply. Okay so maybe he’s too tired to say anything. I look back hoping to find his tired face but I find no one. The boy’s gone. I look for him behind the cave, maybe he has decided to indulge in some hide and seek time. But no, nothing. then it strikes me, ” never get attached to someone in someone else’s dreams, they’re not yours. You’re just a helper and you’ll never be anything more.” I remember my mother telling me when I “helped” someone for the very first time, not at all willing, pure exercise of persuasion by my mother. I thought I’d do badly, suck at this “helping” thing and my mother would just let me go, but it came as quite a surprise to me and my mother too that I did so well. She was as shocked as I was but the only difference was she was ecstatic too.

I knew vanishing of the boy would mark the beginning of a new stage, a new threat, something that still occupied the subject’s mind and till the time I didn’t sort this out for him, my mother wouldn’t let me come back. So be it.

I sat in the cave quietly, waiting for any occurrence that would give a direction to this “project”. Yep, that’s what I called these horrifying expeditions. I mean who dreams about a blood covered beach with dead bodies lying all over, surely a sadist.

It has started to rain now. I’ve always loved rains. The drops seep down your body, seep deep into your soul, but unlike humans, they don’t demand anything in return, nor do they leave you shattered and hurt.  They just leave you with new hopes, new visions, new ideas of life.
I decide to step out of the cave, so what if this is someone else’s dream, one can always enjoy the little things. I step out, the rain engulfs me into it’s arms, like always and I happily stand there in it’s embrace. But something’s odd about this rain. This rain smells odd, like blood. I down at my hands, can’t see what color the rain drops are but the rain drops are sticky. They aren’t supposed to be, unless it not only smells like blood, but it is blood. Yes, it’s raining blood now.