“Am I a slut?” I often ask myself. When my friends used to narrate the incidents of their month’s old relationships, I used to judge them. “How can they have one lover for so long?” I would think and pass a gentle smile. I had always wanted to explore and so I did. Why be satisfied with a single relationship when you can indulge in many? Is it wrong that
Sitting on the last bench, he had just cracked a brand new joke that made the kids around him laugh, when his class teacher, noticing the noise, decided to act. Realising that the teacher was walking towards him, he turned pale. “Stand up!” she ordered sternly. “S… sorry ma’am,” he stammered. “Will you ever crack jokes in class again?” she glowered. “N… no ma’am. Promise,”
Dear Love, I know you don’t like it when I talk about my ex. But I am going to do it anyway. And I know that you will forgive me because your love for me trumps everything else in this world. When I was dumped by him, he cited that ours was not a ‘healthy’ relationship. But the truth was that he had fallen for that slim and hot
Let me get this straight. Don’t call yourself an artist. Because the day you start calling yourself one, you’ll become like me. Selfish, egocentric and intimidating. 1. You won’t care about that friend of yours when you ask her what it felt like when they were on a ‘break’. You don’t give two damns about her unstable relationship. All you want is “inspiration” every time you feel like your
I ring the doorbell and wait for the door to open. A woman opens the door and her eyes dance with anticipation at the sight of the letter addressed to her. I smile. Such little moments make my day. As the door shuts on my face, I make my way down the stairs of the house. I wince as I discover a pain in my joints. After all, winter shows
The overwhelming urge to lay my head on his shoulder is eating me up now, but somehow I will myself not to do it. He would let me if I try, won’t he? But it would be like every other time I try to get closer to him – he wouldn’t push me away, but I’ll start to wish for even more; I’d wish to get even closer
I had sent my poems to seven different publications and none of them wanted to give me a chance. I felt all my effort going down the drain, much like the overflowing gutters at the onset of monsoon. When I turned on the television, as if he read my mood, the Weatherman warned, “Overcast skies promise a thunderstorm this evening.” I resigned to a gloomy day, brooding all by myself.