Category: Life

A teenage boy develops a misunderstanding that he lacks love in his life, give into bad habits but improve upon them with family’s support.

The story is about two decades ago. There was a boy named Sumit who lived in Haryana. It was his hometown. He lived in a joint family. Two uncles, aunts, their two sons and one daughter, her grandparents and his parents lived with him in that huge family. He was a simple boy who lacked love in his life according to him though it wasn’t true. His parents didn’t have enough time to spend with him since they were part of their family business. His parents used to work in order to earn money to secure their family’s future.

He remembered his grandmother telling him how he was brought up by her. But she couldn’t spend time with him as she had to look after other children of the family as well. As he grew up and went to school to study, he was called a brilliant child. He was good academically as well as in extra curricular activities. Whether it was some arts competition or sports activities, he was equally strong in it. His cousins also studied in the same school. His aunts were jealous of him bringing laurels since their children were average students. They didn’t allow him to play with his cousins much. They were jealous of his parents as well since they earned for the family & were given more preference than them by their parents.

In that surrounding, there were people but none to understand him. He had all kinds of toys but nobody to play with him. He had lots of things to share but none to listen to him and spend time with him. When he used to see his classmates accompanied by their parents in the P.T.M. or some functions, he used to get upset since he was mostly left all alone. And that made him really sad. He felt like he was all alone in his struggling life. He wanted to do something about it because he couldn’t continue his life like that.

When he turned fifteen, he went through some teenage behavioral changes. He started isolating himself from his classmates. His interest towards studies deteriorated. His performance became that of an average student. He gradually became part of the gang of bad boys.

When his academic performance deteriorated, he was asked for it’s reason. He didn’t discuss about it with anyone.

That stress had made him restless. He couldn’t discuss it with anyone because of his weak bond with his family members.

In his school, he started sitting alone thinking deeply about what he can do to avoid his problems. Those bad boys started taking deep interest in his life. The reason was that they knew that he had money to spend on them. He felt a little lighter while sharing his deepest secrets to them. They consoled him and told him to give the solution to his problem.

They told about how each of them was undergoing with a similar problem. There were few seniors who helped them sort out this problem. They introduced him with drugs. He was not acquainted with how unhealthy they can become. First time, he tried due to peer pressure. It gave him some relief from the problems & situations he was going through. It was like a mental trauma to him. He started having it regularly. Those boys used to get extra money from him for his drugs as well as their own needs. Nobody actually knew what was actually happening within the school boundary. The seniors used to get the drugs supplied from some smuggler and distribute it to the students who needed in the backyard of the school’s main building.

Days passed in this way. Sumit felt better with drugs. And he hadn’t yet realized how badly he needed it. Six months passed. Once her mother was looking for her important document in her whole room, she saw the packets with white powder in Sumit’s bag while he had gone for the tuitions. She took one out, teared it to check what was that and found that they were drugs. Was it true what she was thinking in her mind? She broke out. Being a mother, she had the responsibility to express her love and emotions to her son. But that love remained unexpressed. And that was her fault. Lack of time and the weak bond between Sumit and his family led to such a consequence. She called his husband and told everything to him. When he was a back to his home, he was asked about all that.

He cried and told about how lonely he used to feel. He tried to talk about this but no one listened.

They informed about this to the school authorities. The seniors were handled by the policemen. And the innocent students of Sumit’s class and he was left for the action of their family. His parents send him to rehabilitation center to get rid of what he was caught into.  It wasn’t easy to do that. But he came back as a person devoid of all the weaknesses of his life. He got admission in IIT-Delhi on the basis of his academic performance. He shares his story with everyone now and realized that love is not just felt by touching or physical appearance. It is even felt when you really care and believe in others. Now he has this opinion and he loves his life more than he ever did. He spends time with underprivileged children and the orphans and shares his love with those who really need it.

This is a story of twelve-year-old old Ryan, who has a Christmas to remember.

The quaint, little bookshop was exuding the festive warmth. The smell of coffee and plum cakes wafted through the evening air. There were tea-lights kept at every shelf. The place was beautifully lit-up. Ryan pushed open the glass door of the shop and, for a moment, was left admiring the Christmas décor of the shop. His cherished book store took a beautiful turn around this time every year. It was his favourite time of the year as well- the nip in the air, the happy faces of people around, the Christmas vacation at school, and the prospect of beginning afresh in the soon-to-dawn new year pleased him.

He stepped inside, put his bag in the rack, and walked straight up to the shelf containing his much-loved, Roald Dahl books.

He had been saving his pocket money to buy Christmas presents for himself. He had even made a list of the books he badly wanted to read since summer. He had read a snippet of one of Roald Dahl’s stories in his English textbook, and had wanted to read all his work since then. After purchasing those long-desired novels, he placed the stack carefully in his bag and left for home.

On reaching home, as he placed the books on his table, his mother peeped inside the room and asked him to come and have hot chocolate with the others. He decided to admire the books at night and excitedly went downstairs. He lived in a small house with his parents, an elder brother and grandparents. He shared his room with his brother upstairs- that was once an attic. They lived on a meagre income and both his parents worked hard to make both ends meet. His elder brother, Joe, was still in high school. As he sat sipping the hot chocolate drink, he elatedly told his family about what he got himself for Christmas. He ran into the kitchen and asked his mother about what she was planning to get for his grandparents. She smiled kindly and disclosed that there would be no gifts for anyone this year, as they were running short of money. He went and sat in the living room, enjoying the hot drink and cookies with the rest of the family, but couldn’t stop thinking about what his mother had just told him.

That night he kept looking at his new books on the table. He had no more pocket money left.

After a restless night, he woke up early next day and helped his mother with the chores. He told her he was going to be out in the afternoon.

It was Christmas Eve and the small house was decorated to fit the season. There were a few special dishes to be prepared for Christmas day. The smell of cookies and cakes filled the house. As the family left for church, Ryan informed them that he would take a few more minutes to get ready and asked them all to carry on. When the family woke up the next day, they were pleasantly surprised to find beautifully-wrapped packaged beside each of them. There was a beautiful key-chain for his brother, a gorgeous scarf for grandma, a muffler for grandpa, a pen stand for his papa, and a pretty, little purse for his mother. Everyone gathered in the hall room with their gifts, Ryan was in smiles. He had returned all of his new books and bought gifts for all of them.

He had realised that Christmas was all about giving, caring and sharing.

Later in the evening, the family collected whatever little money was there to spare, and secretly fetched Ryan one of those books he had returned to the bookshop, which he found under his pillow at bedtime. His happiness knew no bounds. It was truly a merry Christmas for them all.

The story is of two childhood friends who are separated by distance. Will they be friends again?

Vibhav gazed at the clear azure sky, letting his mind wander through the memory lanes. The balmy wind somewhat soothed his outer self while his inner one battling a long subdued storm. Vibhav somewhat knew that this thing was about to happen but he was too arrogant to confess it. ’A friendship of eight years is not easy to break,’ he always thought.

It had been almost eight years when he first met Parth, a lad of ten, the same age as him with a sparkle in his eyes. The day seemed as if it had been just yesterday and today, here they were at crossroads.

The family had just moved in to the new place much to his disappointment. He missed the old apartment and the congenial neighbours. Everything in the new place seemed cold and unconcerned. In this new environment Parth came as ray of hope, a source for new beginnings, from the blue. Vibhav was returning from school after a monotonous day. Just then, a football hit him directly on his face leaving him hurt and furious.

Seeing his angry face, all the lads started laughing except Parth. Parth came to me apologised and asked me to return the ball that was lying near his feet. Vibhav, in his fury kicked the ball towards the road and watched the ball getting punctured as a Tata Sumo crossed it. Now, it was his turn to laugh. Everyone else stood speechless looking at him in pure hatred.

‘It serves you right,’ claimed Vibhav self-righteously.

‘That was unacceptable from your side. I had apologised and now I want a football in compensation for the one you just punctured,’ fumed Parth.

‘Compensation! For what? It is I who should be compensated not you’

‘This is the limit. First you commit a mistake and then ask for compensation. Hey newbie, you better get lost and never show your ugly face here again. I think it would be the best for you.’

‘When is your birthday?’ asked Vibhav innocently.

Parth was surprised by the sudden change in his tone.’2^nd June,’ he said.

‘Good. You better ask your mother for a mirror for it seems you have never seen one. If you cannot afford one, I will be more than glad to give you a few rupees for one.  The earlier you know the truth….’

Vibhav was stopped midsentence by a blow from Parth. With this, hell had broken loose as the boys started throwing kicks and punches. The onlookers, surprised with the turn of events took some time to react. By the times, the boys were pulled apart both were badly hurt. Their clothes torn and hair dishevelled. That day he found himself at the doors of Mr.Saxena with his mother and a box of chocolates.

’Can’t we just return home?’

‘No,’ said Vibhav’s mother as she rang the doorbell.

Parth’s mother opened the door. The two ladies talked for a while each apologising the other for their son’s deeds. Vibhav was reluctant to talk to Parth. The feeling was mutual after all they had gone through the day. The clock chimed five times. Parth switched on the television as it was time for the Power Rangers to fight some evil monsters.

‘You also like Power Rangers?’ asked Vibhav.

This was the beginning of the endless conversations that they started. With each passing day, the boys grew fonder of each other. They confided in each other their deepest sorrows, their greatest joys, their darkest fears and their craziest fantasies. Everything was going fine. Time flew and none of them realised they had to separate.

Vibhav was going out for his studies. This did not create a rift as the two years passed and now it was time for them to go to college. This is when things got tricky. Vibhav was again going out to complete his bachelor’s degree while Parth was this time forced to complete his degree at a nearby college. He thought that things would just as fine as it was before.

However, the talks grew shorter and he began to feel that Parth was keeping things from him. He thought that this was temporary. Soon, he got engaged in different activities and soon got so busy in his own self that he had little time for other. The calls started getting unanswered. Parth did not mind either.

A year passed and things started to change. When Vibhav returned home at the end of the term, he saw a new Parth and the same change was in store for Parth. They knew something was wrong, something had changed but neither was willing to admit. Change is the most difficult to expect when it alters something you felt would never change. Vibhav returned after a satisfying vacation and things got busier.

With each unanswered call, the two best friends became complete strangers. The meetings grew shorter and less frequent, the talks more to the point. They had reached a point where they barely called each other. With time, they had grown apart.

It had been a year since they met. They both had graduated from college and were enjoying the holidays. Vibhav was brought back to the present time by the honking of trucks. The azure sky was painted with hues of red and orange.

The sun was silently peeking out of the horizon to catch one last glimpse of the place before he left. Vibhav had reached a conclusion. The inner storm had to stop for the result had been arrived at.

He stopped at the chocolate store and made a purchase. Still apprehensive of his actions he stood at the ground floor of the building. His mind was still considering his decision though it had been almost fifteen minutes since he had been standing at door of Mr.Saxena.

‘Can’t I go back home?’ talking to himself.

’No,’ he heard the resolute reply.

He rang the doorbell. The same lady opened the door. She had grown old but was still her congenial self. He made a small talk with her and went to his room. He was watching television.

‘So you still watch Power Rangers?’

Who doesn’t enjoy privacy? Who doesn’t crave for freedom? But are these two things more prized and vital to us than the mother who still has the stitch marks on her stomach?

He remembered how his mother would constantly feed him khichdi and make endless cups of haldi wali chai for him when he was sick. She wouldn’t let him step on the floor and made sure that his back was resting on the bed. She would continually rub his head and even massage his feet. He loved it when his mother tucked him in bed with a big warm blanket and slept next to him, waking up to his slightest cry of pain.

He swallowed the white round tablet that he held in his hand and dived into the white linen bed whose bed sheet had marks of ashes and stains of alcohol.

He recalled how his mother wouldn’t let him step outside the house without having at least two paranthas and at times fed him with her own hands if he complained of getting late. She would wake up hours before to prepare a meal which could be enjoyed hot by her son. She would ask him daily at night before going to sleep what he would like to have the next day in breakfast.

He took out the milk carton from the fridge and poured the cold liquid into the plastic bowl where his tasteless cereal rested.

He thought of the day when he had to appear for his first job interview. His mother woke him up on time and blistering water in the shower was waiting for him. Flawlessly ironed grey trousers and a crisp white shirt were kept on his bed. His watch, wallet and tie were tidily placed on the wooden side table and the driver waited for him in the black swift.

He woke up to the alarm after snoozing it two times and realised that he had forgotten to switch on the geyser. He applied deodorant and wore the same blue greased shirt that hadn’t been washed since a week. He rushed down the stairs to catch the metro.

That day was still unsullied in his mind. There was not one memory that was forgotten. He remembered every slight detail of that day in his mind like the back of his hand. Most children would die to be in his place. He was a working man and still pampered unconditionally by his mother. His dad was a heart patient and had a major heart stroke one night which lead to him leaving this world but also properties whose rent could be enjoyed by his wife and his son so that their financial stability could be maintained. He had been fed up of his mothers steady nagging in his work. He was irritated by her invariable calls in his office. He was annoyed when his mother would ask him to come home early and not stay till late in pubs and get wasted with his work buddies. Then just like we know that patience is not every ones best friend, he did something that even an adopted son wouldn’t dare to do.

He left his mom all alone and broke all ties with her. He ran away from his house in Chennai and came to Mumbai.

Danish led a typical life like any other man of his age and his state of affairs would. Away from home, single, struggling to pay the rent and his bills. He had changed his number so that no one from his precedent life could contact him especially his mother. But his mother had still waited, waited patiently for her son to come darting back to her. Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.  It seemed like the prayers of the forlorn mother had begun to be answered. Danish gave up in his new life and knew that he couldn’t survive there anymore. He wasn’t ready to face such brutal hardships. When life bombards you with difficulties and obstacles, you either overcome them or go running back to your mother. That is exactly what Danish did, with an added fact that he had realised his mistake. More than owning up to ones mistake, it is of utmost importance to realise it. Danish still remembered his house number by heart and called his mother after fourteen months.

“Hello?” spoke his mother from the other end of the line.

Danish spoke nothing. His breathing turned heavy.

“Danish?” his mom could make out that it was her son who had called her after a wait of whole fourteen months.

“Maa, I am sorry maa. I was a stupid fool to have run away from the boon that I have been blessed with. I am coming home maa. I am coming back. I am sorry maa. I love you” continued Danish without taking a single pause.

“What should I make for you? Tell me what my babu would like to eat?” asked his mother holding back a sob which had now turned into happy tears.

Danish jam – packed all his clothes and bits and pieces and handed over the room keys to the landlord. Danish had never been more contented to leave anything behind. He sprinted to the nearest saree shop and bought a printed cotton saree for his mother. He sat in the Mumbai to Chennai Volvo bus with his luggage in the back but the gift in his hand. He couldn’t believe that he would be back with his mother in just three hours and could rest his head in her lap but for now, he couldn’t wait. Three hours were going to be a long time.

His mother finished preparing aloo paranthas and gajar ka halwa. Just one more hour to go, she thought to herself. What to do now? The clock struck 3 and she thought why not watch my serial. Well, women will be women! She switched on the television and flipped through the channels to arrive at the desired one. But first time in her life did she stop at a news channel. A news channel that broadcasted,

“Volvo bus coming from Mumbai to Chennai collides with a truck near a construction site and goes directly clashing into the yet unfinished building. Not one passenger or driver left alive.”

We can blame others, we can blame ourselves.

We can blame circumstances, but we cannot blame life.

The tragedy of life is not death; it is what we let die inside of us when we live.

It is a story about a young woman who was born into a family where the father was an abuser,  who would control everyone’s  life. The girl was not an ordinary girl,  she had  dreams of creating an independent life, finally at the age of eighteen she left her home to pursue a life of  freedom.

“Eid Mubarak, hope you are doing well, we miss you and I am sorry, will always be.” The message on her phone seemed to mock her entire existence, she wanted to throw her phone away into another dimension where the message could go missing with the horrid memories it brought with itself. Her life was turning out really well after all these years she had struggled with the ghost of memories that she had been trying to lay to rest, underneath the enormous layers of the stupor. The message brought back all the bits and pieces of her broken and malevolent past.

The more she tried of taking her mind off the message the more her conscience took a hold on her memories and the people that belonged in them, not every member of her past made her suffer but most of them did. She thinks of her mother all the time, the reminiscences of the tender touch of her mother’s lips on her forehead, the comfort of her embraces at the times of her sudden outburst at that man, those words of consolation when she felt lonely, the flavour of her hands, and the presence of her being around her. She lost her mother’s support at the time when she needed the most, at the time when she was fighting for her rights, her rights of freedom and happiness, she was protesting for the life she always wanted to create.

He took it all away, the care of her mother’s embrace, the shelter of her little brother’s trust, the support of her self-worth, the buoyancy of her dreams. She remembers the day as apocalypse, the day that made her leave everything and everyone behind.

she had left her so called home when was barely eighteen years old, she had no other choice but to leave, she went straight to her best friend’s house and lived there for a year, got a job as a waitress in a local eatery to pay for her basic necessities, things were hard to handle in the beginning but they were liberating for her existence and experience. At last she was not scared of being beaten up for having a dream, she was not being tortured to have asked for a better life, and she was not any longer being threatened for asking for freedom.

Her father had always been an image of domination; he has never been a father who loved his children, maybe he didn’t know how to love, maybe he didn’t know the essence of love, maybe he perceived love as control, maybe he was scared of losing his children to freedom. But he couldn’t realise his mistakes until he forced his daughter to live all alone in a world that was very new and strange for her. The realization came very late, when she had left for good, when she had created a life of her own. She did forgive him but couldn’t forget the things that she went through her entire life, the life that she now considers her own. She became a woman who wouldn’t enslave her dreams for any man, a woman who fought to live a life of independence, a woman who was self-sufficient, a woman who would love but wouldn’t allow love to strangulate her life.

It is a story about a little girl who had an amazing childhood and shifts to other place missing her best friend and the way her eyes searched for her best friend and how she felt at the end.

She was Six when she found her best friend. Someone who played with her, someone who made her smile, someone who tickled her and make her laugh till her stomach ached. She had found her whole world where everything was perfect. Every moment, every day of her life was sharing candies,doing homeworks, eating ice creams and it was just PERFECT!!!

“COME ON PARI GET READY WE HAVE TO GO.” her father said happily on her 8th birthday.

She knew she was not going for a vacation nor this was her birthday gift. She was moving to a new place with her parents. She knew her best friend won’t come. She was not happy to leave her best friend there and go to an unknown place where she had no one to share her ice creams with.

“COMING DAD.” she said looking at her best friend with teary eyes.

She picked her loving toys and beautiful memories. She felt helpless she knew she will not be the same now. With all her courage she had few words she muttered. “I’ll miss you.” She said as she hugged her best friend. She sat in the car waving her good bye.

She was now at a place where she was lonely. A big house, top school and parents failed to fill her mind the way her best friend did. Expensive toys couldn’t take the place of memories of her childhood. There was a smile on her face but she wept internally because there was no one to share this sorrow with!!

Growing up with just old memories was not easy.. She missed everything and felt to go back to the days she spent with her best friend. She used to write letters of which she never got a reply. But she continued with a hope that someday she will get a reply of her letter. Wishing for some miracle to happen and she never lost hope.

Years passed, and it was her 18th birthday!! She was never happy on her birthday as this day separated her best friend from her.

“COME ON PARI GET READY WE HAVE TO GO.” her father said.

She was confused. Where is she going? A vacation? With her low soft voice she asked “WHERE DAD?”

“IT IS A SURPRISE FOR YOU PARI.” She got a reply.

All puzzled and with lot of questions she sat in the car which headed to a familiar place. Every path she crossed made her think where is she going. And then came a turn. TURN OF HER PLACE. Memories flooded back. She started getting positive vibes. She remembered the place as she moved. Yes it was HER place. HER place where she was with her best friend, the place where she played, the place which made her childhood worth remembering. A slideshow of her memories started playing!

The car stopped and her heartbeats went faster. She stepped down, moved forward and HER EYES SEARCHED FOR HER BEST FRIEND.

She had mixed feelings of happiness, excitement, nervousness. But afterall her most desired wish to meet her best friend overcame her feelings. Every step she took forward made her hear her heartbeats.

Eyes moving left & right,front & back in search of her BEST FRIEND. Her heart knew where she will find her best friend. She stopped. Took a deep breathe. And ran towards the garden.

She was right and here her best friend was!! With all her energy and excitement she went to her best friend.

“DADUUUUU……”  she called out with her sweetest voice.

A wrinkled face behind the newspaper on the chair bloomed like a flower who got the sunshine after a long dark night. As the newspaper moved off the face felt like the sun came shining out of clouds.

“MY BARBIE DOLL IS HERE….” a weak voice said out of excitement with strong hands wide opened.

She ran with all her energy and hugged her BEST FRIEND. HER GRANDFATHER. She jumped with joy. She felt happy, she felt complete!! Her smile sparkled brighter than a diamond. Her happiness had no bounds her joy had no limits. Some gifts gives happiness which words can’t express.

And this was her BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT she ever got!!