The Mess In The Kitchen

You know the times when everything seems to be going wrong and in the end with just a turn of events or twist in the line, everything just falls into place. Life just doesn’t seem worth the effort until that point in time when life vicissitudes and everything feels like bliss.

She looked at the broken sink. It was broken since this morning. She was looking forward to a day with herself when she was greeted in the morning with this predicament. She was all alone in her house. Her parents had been out since a week and won’t be back before another.

It was not only about the sink. Everything in her life was topsy-turvy. She had just broken up from a year-old relationship and was in need of a shoulder to cry on. She had friends. Her BFFs. But none of them could ever understand what she was going through. She was on an all-time low and now this. She was on the verge of breaking. She needed to vent her feelings.

She thought of all the good times and the bad times as she picked up the mop and began to clean the mess in the kitchen. She then went over to the phone and called the plumber. She heard his reply and felt even more dejected. He couldn’t come until tomorrow. So she had to bear with this mess for the whole day and night.

After cleaning the whole place thrice she was completely spent. All she wanted to do was drop on the bed and fall asleep. But she went and made some instant coffee. She heard the spluttering of the sink before she saw a whole new pile of crap blubbering out of the outlet. She sighed. She’d leave it like that and wait till tomorrow.

She took her cup of hot coffee and headed towards the balcony. She looked into the mirror as she passed by it. On a normal day she would have looked stunning. But today, she looked hideous from all the cleaning. But she didn’t care anymore. She went and sat on the balcony edge.

She loved sitting there and enjoying the view. The cup of coffee was just an icing on the cake. She knew she deserved it. She sipped her coffee and forgot about the world around her. She wondered how lonely she was and how almost all her friends were in pretty serious relationships. She wondered whether there was just one man for every woman and if she had already lost her man. She dreamt of a prince in shining armour who comes to rescue her from these trying times.

She was brought back to reality by the flailing arms of a guy.

Asterix and Call of Duty (p3)

This is the third and final part of the story “Asterix and Call of Duty”. I hope you really enjoyed the first two parts. This part is the sequel to “Asterix and Call of Duty (p2)”

Read on…

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She walked out wearing a salwar-kameez. She looked so beautiful and elegant, she sure could’ve easily given the Fashion week models a run for their money. Her silky, lush hair placed carefully behind her ears, showcasing her ever-so-lovely face. Even the handbag that she carried around looked prettier when she …well carried it around. She was perfect in all aspects.

“Dude, before you go, I need to tell you something. She’s my sister. Don’t do anything that’ll make me wanna kill you.” Vikram said, pausing the game.

I guess he saw me staring …and my jaw drop.

“You know me, man. I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Yeah, I do know you. And that’s exactly why I’m telling you this.”

You sure do know me very well.

Asterix and Call of Duty (p2)

This is the second part to the story “Asterix and Call of Duty”. Hope you guys really enjoyed the first part. Without much ado, let me start the second part.

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I was dumbstruck. And I am not only talking about Call of Duty. I was flabbergasted at Mr. Fate’s ways. Out of all the people in the entire five kilometer long complex, he chose my best friend’s sister for me to fall for. What should I do? Tell him? Yes, I should tell him. He’s been my best friend for about four years now. It would be selfish on my part if I didn’t tell him.

“Dude, what’s the matter? You look like you’ve been struck by lightning.”

I wish I were struck by lightning. It would have been so much easier and painless.

“I’ve got to tell you something, buddy.”

Oh My God! This is harder than I thought it would be

“Yeah, shoot.”

I hope you won’t after I tell you

“Okay, the thing is…”

Asterix and Call of Duty

Sometimes when things go wrong we decide that it is the work of one Mr. Fate. Well Mr. Fate is just as cruel as you think. I’ve been screwed over by fate many times but this story is about how when Mr. Fate decides to play with his prey before devouring it

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“This is awesome man! You’ve got to come and check this out!” screamed Vikram through the phone.

He was talking about the new “Call of Duty 2” game that he got recently.

“Dude stop SHOUTING!” I yelled back.

“But you’ve got to see this one man! Come over right now!” he hollered.

“Dude you live miles away and I’m not in a mood to jog. I’ll come over some other time.”

We lived in a complex that was spread out for almost five kilometres and we lived at two ends of the complex. The only method of commute other than jogging was if you had a personal vehicle.

“Shut up and get here fast. Man this is AWESOME! I don’t want to hear anything from you now.” He shouted.

“If you don’t stop howling I won’t be able to hear anything EVER!” I said and hung up.

The problem with being best friends for years is that you can’t say no to anything. But this time I decided that I won’t go for sure.

You Can Join Class From Monday

It was a new place. A new city. Everything had changed so quickly. I didn’t even know the language. Life was so much better when you have all your friends around, sharing and caring for each other.  

I had heard only stories about the magnificence that is Mumbai City. It was a welcoming change from the peaceful and quiet of Pune.

My first day in Mumbai city

I was eight years old and had just moved into Kandivali (E), Mumbai.

I got out of the rickshaw and ran towards the lift, fascinated by it and wondering how just at the press of a button a whole room comes down just for transportation to the upper floor. I had my colouring book, my G.I Joe, my HotWheels cars, and my crayons in my small Mickey Mouse backpack.

The lift attender smiled at me flashing his broken tooth (or at least what was left of his tooth) and asked me “kaunse maale pe jaana hai bhaiyya?”(“Which floor do you want to go to?”).

Partly scared and partly overwhelmed at such a grown man calling me bhaiyya, I answered “Seventh floor…” (I didn’t know what to call him, now that he called me “bhaiyya”) “... Uncleji ” I completed.