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Lottery

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    Charles opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling fan motionless overhead.     He found himself lying on his bed; the sunlight filtering in the room through a small gap in the curtains providing a faint illumination in the darkness. He could see dust particles floating in and out, dancing merrily without any sense of direction. He kept staring at them for some more time.     Just then, the door opened up. His eyes were suddenly hit by the brilliant glare from the tube light lit in the corridor outside. His eyes watered and his head hurt. He tried to raise his arms, but felt it heavy and was unable to raise them.     “Close the door!” he yelled loudly.     The figure at the door stopped and rushed back outside. He heard the person’s voice say ‘He’s awake’ to unseen people outside. Within minutes, a crowd burst in.     The lights were turned on in the room now. Slowly, Charles got up and raised his head. His head throbbed again painfully. Eyes still watering,
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Let's talk about HIV

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     A couple of days back, I shared a picture with my followers on an Instagram story and WhatsApp status with a question. It was a picture of a smiling couple, accompanied with the following question: One of them is HIV positive. Guess who?     A lot of people did answer the question. Initially, the votes received were higher for the man, while later the voters started to choose the smiling woman. I posted a follow-up question, asking the voters the reason for their choices.      Here are some of the answers I got:      “I feel it was the guy. He looked quite weak and frail.”      “The guy looks kinda sick, some muscle wasting signs on his face”      “None of them. We cannot go by appearances and it is wrong for us to think badly about someone.”      “He looks weak.”      “I feel it is the girl”      “It’s her. But I want to say it’s him.”       “Him? But I guess judging is not right.”       “None. You cannot judge by looks who has it and those people rarely come out in o
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The Woes Of Time

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The woes of Time      Here, I am – sitting at my desk with two 70+ pages documents opened in the taskbar waiting to be devoured as I ignore them , while penning down this piece in another. The number of pages in those work documents overwhelm me as I am left with a week-and-a-half’s worth of preparation time, before the start of a new project related to them.      My mind is in a fix. I am in a little panic mode. How on earth I am going to finish going through this all in such short time?! I ponder on and on, trying to think of some remarkable way to accomplish this tedious task as the sound of laughter echoes from the meeting room, caused by my colleagues over a game of carrom.       Off lately, be it work or gym or home, I find myself at the mercy of time. I am struggling to leave from office on time, to start & finish my workout on time, to travel back home, make my meals and finish all my chores, so as to leave enough time to sleep. I feel like I am racing against ti
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Moving on...

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Moving on...    Seven years ago, I lost my dad on this day. 31st May shall never be the same again.    I am struggling to put my thoughts into words, staring at the blank page trying to assimilate them into a coherent flow, while Florence sings ‘Hunger’ in the background. Although I titled this post as ‘Moving on..’, I find myself at a loss in doing that either.    Maybe using an analogy might work? Maybe not? Who knows.     Why is it that I am unable to move on from my dad’s death? It is a question which baffles me till now.    His death happened all of a sudden - just an hour ago before his passing, he got up to use the washroom. I remember saying a prayer for him, before leaving for work. Next thing, I get a call from my sister to come home soon.     A frantic chase ensued, where I was playing catch-up with them and reach the hospital just in time. He was declared dead on arrival.     All these years later, I wonder what would be his last w
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Perfection

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   The reflection staring back at him was his own.     There he stood, in the darkness of the room, all lights out but for the faint sliver, which crept from below the small space between the curtain and the floor. Although it was not much, he could make out the outline of his nose. Even in the darkness, he knew how perfect he looked.     He raised his fingers and slowly caressed his cheekbone. Until recently, they bore the scars of acne he had while growing up. Undertaking massive skin care treatments, they became a thing of the past now. He moved his fingers again and this time, lightly touched his lips. They felt full and soft. He could not believe how dry and chapped they used to be at one point.     He ran his fingers through the mane of thick hair on his head. He recalled the amount of products he used to kept them soft and silky over the years, after having re-grown them post getting a transplant. He took pride whenever people complimented his beautiful locks.     Ev
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Of Joy and Shame

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Of Joy and Shame    What a weekend!    This past weekend 06 th and 07 th April, I had gone with my old team for an overnight picnic to Ocean Hills Pereira Farms, Uttan. An outing which was for two months in the planning phase reached nightmare level status in the week leading up to it.     All of that didn’t matter in the end – when we met at last, it was as if no time had passed.     It felt so good to catch up with my old team friends, who had now left the organisation and gone their separate ways. I can’t recall the last time I laughed so much! I was in such high spirits that even my sister remarked I was not grumpy, even after I came back home.     The location of the picnic was awesome too. Built on the slope of a hill and just behind the Our Lady of Velankanni church, the place had a relaxing vibe to it. The rooms allotted to us had great lighting, white walls and great natural lighting as well. We did take advantage of this later during the day.   
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Lament for a lover

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Lament for a lover My love, We met on a cloudy day in July. The weather was bleak and the air carried a wave of gloom, Yet, the moment I saw you, I felt a ray of sunshine broke through the chill and pierce the deepest recess in my soul, making love bloom. Your smile was infectious, your face prettier than any I had ever seen – those bushy eyebrows, small eyes – seemed like the most beautiful thing, Your skin, soft as butter; touching it felt like feathers wrapped up in human skin. We went for a movie, we sat and ate together, we chatted and we clicked pictures – both nervous at the same time. I couldn’t control my blushing and hid my nervousness, by not speaking much. You may have thought of me as a shy person, but love, I was just breathless to even speak, for merely gazing at you made me dizzy as such. I drove you back to your home. I knew the date was over and a sense of sadness engulfed me. I was not sure when I would see you again, but you promised to be in tou
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