Posts Tagged ‘fiction’

This was written long back, but I refrained from posting it 🙂

Read the first 4 parts here.


Corbette woke up to a horrible stench of beer and all things not natural. She glanced at the man sharing his bed with her, still stone drunk and snoring like an overgrown rhino. Sighing, she got up from bed and looked around for her clothes. The beast has thrown them under the bed, probably hoping that she wouldn’t find them anytime soon. Exasperated, Corbette rummaged under the creaking thing and proceeded to cover her naked body.

She made herself coffee in the beast’s kitchen and excused herself out. She had got her money last night, so there was nothing left for her to wait about for. Her trade wasn’t borne out of patience; it was to make herself available to the whims and fancies of all the drunks who roamed the sad parts of town in the death of night.

She still dreamed of the good old days, when she had a house-on-wheels of her own, when she had a son of her own. That was 16 years ago, and since then fortune hadn’t favoured her. The great hurricane of 1996 had taken everything away from her except her son, and she had nothing for herself, let alone for her foetus that would need so much. Worse, she didn’t even know who the boy’s father was…

Corbette couldn’t bear her son to grow up in such a sorry state. She was resigned to living a bad lifestyle, but she had always had high hopes for her son. Heartbroken, she couldn’t bear to see him grow up and struggle against a miserable world. So one non-descript Friday evening, she approached a young couple emerging from a cinema, and handed them her foetus, only murmuring that the boy’s name was Jacob. She was forced to let go of the last thing that was truly hers, and she had turned to the night streets for a means of survival.


Jacob had tried so hard to protect Lucy. She was the one person in the world he couldn’t bear being dragged into this mess, as much as she was the only person alive he wanted right now by his side. But now that the anomaly had captured her, a strange kind of fury surrounded Jacob, supported by just a tinge of calm. He had already known that he couldn’t keep her safe from all this, that someday soon he would have to tell her the truth. But he had rather hoped that he could have done it himself, rather than some creature of the underground belting it out in rough cut words.

He couldn’t bear the idea of losing Lucy after all that she had done for him. Had it not been for her, he would have lost hope long back. Smiling, he still remembered the last time he’d met her. She had slapped him because she was exasperated with his depressing mood. Not the best send-off gift, but he treasured that memory.

Slowly, he trudged up the last hill. He was getting close to the lair now, the place where it should all have ended, as it was the place where it started. Jacob had an eidetic memory of the most unusual sort, he remembered every single memory of his living life, right up to one month of his birth. He hadn’t really needed a map to guide him, he had the way laid out right there in his head.

The gateway to a cave loomed in front of him. Ahead of here, there was no light of the sun, only the death cry of reaped souls to guide him. It was the closest thing to being Hell on Earth, just that Jacob couldn’t believe that Hell had this bad lighting. Ah well, he plunged into the darkness and was lost to the mortal world. Inside that cave lay his one love, along with the secrets to his birth, and to the death of Isabelle O’Conner.



The latest installment in the series. Hope you’ve already read the other 3, otherwise hurry over. NOW!


Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here

Read Part 3 here


Adrian carefully lifted the sword out of the box, knowing that even touching the blade would be a catastrophe for him and the house. It felt as if the sword was softly whispering to him, trying frantically to get out of his hands and drop to the floor. But Adrian was careful enough not to let that happen, he had seen how much the sword loved setting things ablaze.

It was the summer of 1997, a few months after Isabelle had passed away and the sword entered the house. Adrian wished to have no further role for it, and he had wanted to burn the ungodly thing with her corpse. But even after the last ashes had floated away, the sword had stuck around. Oh, it was set ablaze to all hell glory, but not a single mark was left behind on the jewels or the handle of such magnificent steel. It had entered the mortal world for a purpose, and it wasn’t going to give up so easily.

One night, when 2-year old Jacob had been laid in bed and was fast asleep in his cot, Adrian took it out by the fireplace to have a closer look at it. Even in his hands, it just felt wrong, like it was yearning to prise itself free from him. The fire burnt low, and Adrian didn’t really feel man enough to get up and find the poker. He just lazily brushed aside the logs with the long tip of the sword, but it wasn’t an occurrence he was going to forget anytime soon…

The sword was set ablaze again, and it nearly burnt his hand off. The fire rose to at least a meter high, and would have set the carpet ablaze had it not been taken away because young Jacob had urinated on it that day. Adrian fell away from the fireplace, and couldn’t move a muscle till the fire subsided to its normal self. Slowly, he crept towards the ancient weapon, and picked it up. Words had appeared on the blade, words that looked like they had been burned onto the magnificent steel. They weren’t words he was going to forget anytime soon, for they were the last words Isabelle had ever spoken before him. “Bon Appétit, Jacob needs his beauty sleep.”

This was 13 years ago now, and Adrian would have happily left it all in the past had all this not happened. He had promptly sealed the weapon in a box filled with hay, and hidden it in a secluded corner of the attic. How it had moved by itself diagonally across the room only God knew, but then, God didn’t seem quite willing to give him support here, was he?

The sword wasn’t his, nor was it his mother’s. It had only shown those words because they were spoken at the last by the mother of the prodigy, but she wasn’t the prodigy. There was something queer about Jacob and how things always seemed to be …. different … around him. It was as if his presence itself bended the very will of nature, and caused ungodly things to happen. It was as if his just being born had caused a disturbance in the force, a disbalance that nature was struggling to overcome. But whatever it was, Adrian somehow knew that it was only the sword which could help Jacob wherever he had gone. But how he would get it to him, of that he had no idea.


Meanwhile, dark forces stirred around Jacob, as he tried to sleep among all those marshes. He shifted uncomfortably; there wasn’t an inch of dry space in those dark and damp areas of the living Earth. But journey through them was imperative; there was no other way around to get to the Doors of Haein.

Wishfully thinking of his mother, Jacob slept off among the reeds and other slimy plants that served as his pillow. But sleeping off didn’t mean that he got any peace. Dreamland is another dimension altogether, and one can easily get lost in them. Jacob had long since learned that his dreams weren’t just illusions, they were showing him the future.

A figure made his way through the tunnel, stumbling over the uneven rocky surface and bouncing off the balls. The tunnel opened out into a huge chasm, and the path suddenly stopped in the centre. The figure hurried over to the edge and kneeled, waiting for the words that he knew was coming.

“Did the girl tell anything?” – asked a voice. Jacob’s insides shriveled up just hearing it; it was as cold as the winter moon, without any expression… any mercy.

“No, my Lord. She refuses to divulge any of her past whatsoever, and all attempts to get into her mind were futile. It’s as if the boy’s power itself is shielding her mind, protecting it from us.”

“Then use the Drakenger.”

“But my Lord, she won’t survive it!”

“Then that doesn’t matter. Does it, Jacob?”

Jacob sprang awake, sweating. They had found Lucy.


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Lost Glory – a hole in someone’s past [Part 3]

Posted: April 29, 2012 by Nitesh in Nitesh
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The latest part of my series. Hope you are enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it. Cheers 🙂


Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here


Jacob slowly made his way through the shallow marshes, which seemed to be even slimier than the villagers had told him. He nearly went down once when his foot slipped off the path and went into the water. Fortunately, he reached out and grabbed hold of a tree-root just in time and pulled himself up. His jeans were ruined, but he wasn’t going to visit the drycleaners anytime soon anyway…

Jacob studied the map in his hand. It seemed pretty straightforward, telling him to go straight through the marsh, and whatever happens, never ever stray from the path. As long as he could tell, he was still on the right track, but with the sun setting down, he couldn’t stay out in the open much longer. Best to pitch his tent on the side of the track and wait until daybreak. The area around him wasn’t renowned for much wildlife, but then again, it was renowned for being the most haunted place on the dying Earth.

As Jacob sat there unpacking the kettle, flashes of his memory passed through him. The only thing he remembered about his mother was her in the kitchen, ferociously working the roller and moving pans in and out from the oven. She used to give him a nibble or two of her muffins sometimes, but not much, because his teeth hadn’t grown by that time. He remembered the delicious smell that came from her and her apron, but beyond that, his memory of his mother was a complete blur.

It felt exasperating, not having any solid memory of her to hold on to. But Jacob did know one thing, and that was that his father loved Isabelle more than his life, and that Adrian was alive till now only because he had to care for her offspring. It killed him to see his father like this, and Jacob remembered the last time when he had brought up talk about his mother. His father had suddenly seemed to grow old before his eyes, and he firmly refused to discuss what had happened that fateful winter of 1997. Thinking about all this, Jacob dozed off right there, with his head resting against an old tree-trunk, oblivious to the night-sounds and the dark forces which hovered around him.


Adrian had never let slip details about Isabelle’s death, but the town-folk were always up for a meaty rumour or two. Talk spread around the town about the sheriff’s villa being haunted, that dark forces roamed the grounds when all but the mortal were in their beds. Adrian never denied these rumours, but he didn’t dare add to them by commenting himself. He wanted Jacob to grow up in a care-free environment, free from the inquisitive and forbidding eyes of the town folk.

There wasn’t a single day when he didn’t miss his wife, not a single day when he didn’t think about Isabelle O’Conner. They had both decided to take their relationship to the next level the year they graduated from the University of Casavania. Both of them were quite young when Jacob was born, Isabelle 22 and Adrian barely 23 years of age.

Adrian was hoping that he would never have to see it again, but grudgingly, this wasn’t the time to let his fears rule over him. He climbed up to the attic and roamed his sight, looking for the box which he knew was there. He saw it by itself in a corner, away from the damp of the lake. That was queer; he definitely remembered putting it with the rest of the stuff under the porthole window. Ah well, what was inside that box was nowhere close to normal anyway.

Opening the box slowly, he felt the same awe that he had felt 15 years ago, when it had appeared in the house, lying across Isabelle’s corpse. The jewels hadn’t lost their glow even now, and the handle was still made of the most marvelous steel there could be in the world. The sword was still there, and its time had arrived.


Read Part 4 here



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Lost Glory – a hole in someone’s past [Part 2]

Posted: April 22, 2012 by Nitesh in Nitesh
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The second part of my hopefully-a-thriller series. Enjoy it guys.


Read Part 1 here


Adrian still remembered the first time he had set eyes on Jacob’s mother. Isabelle and he were fresh out of school and had both joined the local university. Looking at her, Adrian knew that he had found the one for him, not because she was blonde, but because she just was the one. He remembered their first date as if it was only yesterday. He had taken her up to the patio of their university one autumn evening, where his friends had gone out of their way to make it a great setting with candles and all. Every moment with her seemed like a moment lost, but he refused to believe that he had lost her for good. Her soul still rested in the house they had bought together off their meager income, the house Jacob and he were currently living in..

Her death shocked the entire town. Isabelle was well known in the locality for her marvelous muffins, which she catered out of the house. The circumstances of her death were never disclosed to the public, because Adrian wished some parts of her life to remain personal. He didn’t want it to become a witch’s tale, he wanted the town to always remember her as the young, sweet and selfless Isabelle she was.

It was the year of 1997, the 17th day of the month of December, Jacob’s second birthday. It was a particularly chilly winter that year, with the whole of Casavania snowed under. It was then that the strange things started happening around the house. Trees started uprooting themselves, the birds stopped flying down to their porch for the seeds Isabelle laid out for them, smoke could be seen coming out of the chimney without anyone lighting a fire underneath it. It seemed like a spirit had taken over the house, but it didn’t occur to anyone then that the young boy in the house was the one.

Then, a week later, the thing happened. Adrian woke up to a sound downstairs at an ungodly hour, when all but the dead should have been sleeping. He got up to investigate, sure that it must have been yet another one of those infernal owls which haunted their roof. They were one of the drawbacks to the otherwise-perfect house. Adrian didn’t mind; the local birdlife was pretty frequent in these parts, and you grew used to them after a while.

As he walked down the stairs, Adrian looked out of the window and was struck at the beauty of the night. The moon was out in full glory, there was no breeze, no wind, and not a single thing moved. The moonlight glistened off the tree-tops, making them look as if they had been freshly washed. Adrian nearly went back to wake Isabelle up and share it with her, when the sound occurred again, but from the kitchen now.

Adrian cursed himself for not having brought his revolver with him. He always had it on his person, and the one bloody time he did not, a burglar apparently has stolen into his kitchen. Well, he couldn’t go back now, the burglar would get away. Best to just startle the bloody person and give him a good solid thunk over the head with something. Adrian picked up the poker from the fireplace, and slowly made his way to the kitchen door and put his hand on the doorknob when all hell broke loose.

A bright, yet completely black light glowed from the kitchen, and SOMETHING broke through the door. Adrian never got a look at the thing, before something slimy hit him from behind. As he went down, the only thing going through his mind was “Please not them”…

Adrian never saw Isabelle after that night, except her corpse. The next morning when he went up to the room on regaining consciousness, he witnessed a scene straight from hell. The place had been ransacked and a dark circle been drawn around the bed on which young Jacob lay. There was no sign of his mother, and Adrian screamed aloud with agony. Her corpse reappeared on that exact bed a week later, but by then that room had been shut down, Adrian wishing to have no further use for it. There were no marks of external injury on her body, and the post-mortem didn’t reveal anything inside her either. It was as if something had passed through her, and she hadn’t survived it…

Going back to the kitchen with the boy to clean him up and give him some water, he had seen the words. ‘She has been claimed’ were plastered on the cream walls, and Adrian nearly strangled himself right there.

Wincing, Adrian felt the small of his back where he still had the scar from that night. It refused to heal or go away, always staying there as the dark spot on his fair skin. It was as if something evil had touched him, but not penetrated through. He just wished that it had finished with him and not taken Isabelle. But then, he had to live for his boy and protect him. It was obvious now that there was something special about him, maybe even godly, but what it was eluded him. The only thing he could do was nurture him and show him the trades of the world, hoping that one day it would all become clear to him.

But now, Jacob had disappeared too, but Adrian couldn’t bear to feel as useless all over again as on the night of Isabelle’s death. He understood that some dark force was acting on his family, but he couldn’t just bear to stand down and let everything around him pass him by. The fact that the anomaly had used ‘IT’ for Jacob rather than referring to his boy as HIM and so a human being was strange, and may hold some clue. Whatever it was, Adrian couldn’t bear to let his one child go away, just like he could barely bear the death of his love. He had survived Isabelle being taken away just because he had her child to take care of, but not now. Now, something had to go, and it wouldn’t be his son.


Read Part 3 here

Read Part 4 here



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Lost Glory – a hole in someone’s past [Part 1]

Posted: April 20, 2012 by Nitesh in Nitesh
Tags: ,

Because someone actually challenged me to write a horror story ! 😛

I’ve gone one better – this is a thriller !
So yeah, do bear with me please 🙂


Jacob knew that the only way to get around it was to drive straight into it and not give a damn. After all, who in the world would suspect a 17-year old guy driving a bicycle of the crime that he had just committed? Sure, a lot of people would report that a young-ish blonde guy had been seen on the screen, but that description could quite easily be related to a hundred other teenagers in that small village of Casavania, a lot of whom would also have been present at that fair when he lighted the fire.

He reached home and flung the keys on the dining-table. His father would find them there when he returned home after performing his duties as Sheriff at the scene. Jacob walked into his bedroom and yanked up the loose plank off the floor. His bag was already packed, waiting for him to make a quick get away from there and enter a place where no mortal man had ever set foot.

He trudged down the stairs with a heavy heart. It’s not easy leaving behind a home where he had spent his entire life, the place he had lost his first tooth, won his first musical chairs. But he knew that it was the only way to finding redemption for what had happened to his mother, brutally killed 15 years ago in a case shrouded in mystery, and which the locals didn’t dare to talk about. But finally, after waiting his entire childhood in the same house by the lake, he trudged outside into the mist to follow up his latest lead, and wasn’t heard of again for the better part of a year…

Jacob’s dad, Adrian reached home that night exhausted. It had been a long day; what had looked like a pretty standard Annual parade at the funfair had turned into one of the biggest fires the town had ever seen. Fortunately, no one was hurt. Of course, Mrs. Flattherty had complained of chest burns and suffocation, but she seemed all right after the village doctor told her that she would need an injection. A couple of the younger lads had received 3rd degree fire burns trying to help evacuate the elderly, and young Nick Flanagas had broken his arm trying to pitch in by carrying a water bucket which was heavier than his old mum. Adrian smiled to himself; that young kid certainly had a lot of pluck, just like his father.

Expecting that Jacob would already have gone to bed, Adrian made himself a cup of tea and tried to reflect on the day’s proceedings. Some fool had strayed behind the Big Tent where the elephants usually sleep and tried to light a cigarette. It looked like he had dropped his lighter on the stack of hay used for the mammals’ food, and had high-tailed it out of there when he realized that he couldn’t control the ensuing blaze. Thank heavens that the army guys had come over for a night out; without their help and muscle, the damage could have been a lot more.

Adrian sighed and put his feet up on his table. It was going to be a long day tomorrow, what with the press conference and then having to write out a proper report for the Superintendent. The fire was going to be plastered on the front page of every newspaper in the district by dawn tomorrow morning, and the Superintendent didn’t take lightly of being shown up as an incompetent in his own jurisdiction.

Stubbing out his cigarette, Adrian decided to call it a day. His body wasn’t what it once used to be, when he used to stay up all night texting Jacob’s mother. Isabelle wasn’t with them anymore, but he felt her presence in that house every single day, every single moment of his life. Too bad that she couldn’t be here to see how big her young lad had grown, and too bad that Jacob never really knew his mother.

He slowly walked up the stairs, stood outside Jacob’s door listening for a sound of his son. Hearing none, assuming that the boy had slept off, Adrian walked into his room next door and quickly changed. Then he crashed on the bed, and he dozed off before his head hit the pillow.


He didn’t know what had woken him up. Perhaps it was another one of those damned night owls who had thought it a good idea to sit on top of the chimney and hoot to all hell. But Adrian couldn’t hear anything right now, so he decided to let the infernal bird live another day, and went back to sleep.


The morning came, and with it came a severe headache. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to try that new herbal tea last night after all, it would have been safer to stick to his good old teapot with its good old tea leaves. But whatever, nothing he could do about it, except pop in an Aspirin and hope it will wear off before he reached the police station.

The breakfast wasn’t ready on the table for him, which was rather an oddity. Jacob always laid out a bowl of cereal for him before cycling off to college. But seeing as his bicycle wasn’t leaning out there by the garage, Adrian could only assume that he was late and had to go off in a hurry.Adrian wasn’t bothered; he just got the cereal himself and read the morning’s newspapers’ take on last night’s events. He sent a txt to his son’s phone to reply when he could to make sure he was safe, and didn’t think anymore over it. It didn’t strike him to check his son’s room at that time…


That night, when his son still hadn’t checked in, Adrian started to feel worried. Jacob was a responsible boy, he never stayed out of touch so long. The moment Adrian reached home, he ran upstairs and flung open the door to his son’s room. His eyes veered to the wall above the bed’s head, and so Adrian lost his footing, tears escaping the sanctity of his eyes.

On the wall, it was written in red – “It has been claimed”. Not only was it so horrifying, it was disturbingly close to the exact scenario of Isabelle’s death….


Read Part 2 here

Read Part 3 here

Read Part 4 here



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Anabelle: There and Back again – a tale of life

Posted: April 19, 2012 by Nitesh in Anabelle
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And so, I can brag soooo much about this! An actual guest blog, from someone you guys don’t know at all. For now, she’ll be recognized as Anabelle on the site. In time, perhaps, you may quiz me. But for now, read one of the best first articles anyone has ever written. — Nitesh


Never gave it a thought that I would actually give in to writing a blog…but here I am. And now, I don’t want to give it a second thought. Yes, I always wanted a secret identity. Was kind of fascinating to me, actually gives me the liberty to speak my heart out without any worries of how the world will react. This is one place I can be me. I think.

So here’s a story of a girl. No, nothing new, the same old life that people have. But with a lot more fun, a lot more drama, a lot more love, a lot more passion, a lot more hate but most importantly, more of fear.


Living our lives believing some things never exist, and then one night you stand face to face with it. You end up realizing the fact that this non-believe is now your biggest fear. I’m Anabelle (fictitious name). I’m 17 years old and have lived all these 17 years in a superbly fantastic way, my way. I have always been in the same school since Nursery so never had to face the drudgery of experiencing a new environment, eing tortured and most importantly, I have always been saved from the ragging part.

I came back home from school late in the evening. The porch lights were off so I realized my parents weren’t home. I grabbed the house keys from under the doormat and unlocked the door. I had had a hectic day so wasn’t really in a mood to prepare the dinner and decided to wait till my parents were back. I headed upstairs for my room, changed and got back down to see if there was anything in the fridge to drink. I opened the fridge door when suddenly there was a loud noise outside somewhere and the next moment the lights were gone. It was pitch dark but I managed to work my way to the kitchen counter and found a candle and a matchbox in the drawer. I lit the candle and brought it to the living room so I could atleast figure out what things were kept where. I kept the matchbox on the centre table in case I would need it. I heard my phone ringing so I headed upstairs to answer it.



“Yea mom its me.”

“Umm I just called to inform that dad and I are stuck in the storm here so we’d be late. If the weather gets bad we’d be staying here for the night. You stay indoors and make sure all the doors and windows are bolted. I’ve made grilled sandwich for you, its in the oven. Eat it and have a good night. We’ll be home as soon as possible”

“Okay mom. I will. You take care. Good night”

“Goodnight honey.”

I tossed my phone on my bed and sat on the floor. I had the whole house to me for the night and I had nothing to do, so I decided I’d go back downstairs and have the grilled sandwich and wait till the lights are back. There was a loud thunder and the clouds rumbled. It started raining. I heard a noise from downstairs so I decided to check. I half ran skipping two steps at a time when I sprained my ankle and fell. I tried getting up but lost my balance and found the floor again. I hurt my head and the floor felt so nice and warm, when suddenly I felt something wet in my hand. I told myself that the floor must be wet because of the rain; Some water must have seeped in. There was a loud thunderclap followed by lightning, which gave me enough light to see that it wasn’t the rain water that had the floor all wet. It was blood.

I felt a sudden panic attack and ran my hand over my head and through my hair to see how badly I was hurt. I wasn’t, I didn’t have scratch. There were no signs of bruises… I was perfectly fine. Then whose blood was it? I panicked even more and ran towards the living area to get the candle. I grabbed the candle and ran back to the stairs to see where all that blood came from. And to my surprise.. there was no blood. The floor was as dry as it had ever been. I tried to reconcile myself and comforted myself with lies that probably I was imagining everything… probably I had hit my head very hard, probably there was actually no blood but my mere imagination. The dining hall window cracked open and there was again a loud thunder. It was raining harder and the winds blew off the candle. I went back to the living area to get the matchbox from the centre table. I slipped on the wet floor. It was blood, yet again. I told myself I was imagining again and shuffled through the pages lying on the centre table to grab the matchbox. But it wasn’t there. I remembered clearly that I had left it there then, but now it was gone. I heard a door open and close upstairs.

“Anybody there?”, I asked. There was no reply, obviously.. I was alone in the house.

I asked again and this time my voice was followed by a lightning and a thunderclap lighting up the whole room. There was a man right in front of me. He had wounds all over his body and bloody eyes that wanted to kill me. I screamed out loud and ran for my life. I threw open the main door and ran endlessly out in the rain. I was panting… I stopped to see if the man was still following me. I turned around to make sure I was safe. There was no one. I was alone on the road in the heavy downpour. I relaxed and the rain helped my muscles loosen up a bit when suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face that hideous looking man again. I screamed again but in vain. He stabbed me right in my stomach. I lay still on the ground groaning in pain. I called for help but no one could hear me at this hour of the night, and in this rain. The man was gone and so were my hopes of living. I lay there unmoving.. bleeding. The cold rain washed my blood off my wounds. I felt my eyes closing. Sleep was taking me in her arms but I knew it was my conscience that I was losing. I was dying. And there I lay dead.

by Anabelle

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This is in continuation to the first part already published here. Remember people, it’s a public blog, it’s not a single person’s. If you want the world to know about you and whatever you want to write on, this is the place! Cheers – Nitesh


As days passed, he was taking a very keen interest in talking to her. After a while, he asked her for her mobile number and as expected, she gave it to him and then it seemed that a new era of communicating with her had commenced for him. He spent many sleepless nights thinking about her, and when he lied down to sleep, most of the time he dreamed of her only….

Going to his performance in class, he had started answering in class. Not much, but improvement was there. Before, he was scared to answer to any question in front of the whole class. A dread of getting insulted by his fellow mates or you can say the students in class developed, if he answers that question wrong or gives absurd answers. This dread of his started when he newly joined the school that is in grade 6.

He was selected as a class representative from one section for an inter-class spell bee competition. You must be wondering how did this guy get selected as class representative for INTER-CLASS COMPETITION?! The reason for this is that before he came to his new school, he was an intelligent but yes, reserved kind of boy; he always came in the top 3 students of his class. But after coming to this school, he didn’t know what happened to him (something which happens with a lot of us! – Nitesh). We’ll discuss upon this later. So where were we? Yes, he was nervous to get on the stage as he was new to school and didn’t know what to do then. He thought he was going to have a nervous breakdown after seeing that all the other members of his team were only girls… no boys! He started praying to God either to fast forward the time or to pulverize him there only. Now the competition started and he with a dreadful face was in front of his 300 school mates.

The first two rounds passed easily and he was happy about it as he didn’t answer any of the questions or spellings. Now the final round came and his class, that is grade 6, and grade 7 were having the same points. For this very last tie breaker question, he was given the mic. The word given to him was “chloroform”. As soon as the word was being called, all eyes of the students, principal, teachers, all people who were there, started looking at him. His teammates too were looking at him, waiting for an answer like it’s a billion dollar question.

He knew the spelling very well but the “do u know the answer looks?” by all made him more and more nervous. And as a consequence, he was not able to answer that. He started stumbling after he blurted out the letters ‘ch’. The rest of the letters just got stuck in his voice box and his so-called teammates were prompting the spelling to him repeatedly.

But he was not listening to them, he just gave up and the question was answered by grade 7 kids. After this little fiasco, only one thing was going around his mind-Now how would he going to face his friends?! This incident changed his life and from that day onwards he had never went up to stage. He just wanted to get lost in the crowd of 300 students.

You might be wondering why I am telling you about his past and that too which is far from related with romance and love. This is because in order to know this story, one must know about the main character of this story thoroughly.

Now coming back to our story, as I said he was getting a keen interest in texting with his newly made friend. He didn’t start with flirting or something like that. He just started with TAUNTING her in the name of a person (You can guess it, I dont know his name either) who had a crush on her. Or at least that’s what our nincompoop thinks. This taunting went for at least 4-5 months.

It’s only after so many explanations and proofs by her that he agreed that she didn’t like him. Actually he did know that she didn’t like him, it was just that he wanted to talk to her. No matter what the topic would be, he just wanted to talk to her. He started observing that he had started answering in class. His results started improving, his hairstyle changed from a mushroom cut to spiked one (partially). His shyness towards girls started to retreat. I know this sounds stupid but for him it seemed that an angel or a lucky charm for him was sent by the Great Creator.

One week passed talkig to her, actually not one week, only one weekend, but that seemed like a week to him. During the first weekend only, he talked to her so much that he felt that they had known each other for ages, but only he started to feel that. He didn’t know what that girl thought about him. He just IMAGINED that she felt the same way as he does. Yes, he imagined!

Next day that is on monday, he woke up on his own. Usually, his mother used to wake him up for school. But this day he got up and got ready early to match the timing of hers, that they would reach the school together. And that day, he did reach the entrance of school on that time only at which she had reached. She came out from her white BMW. It was like somewhere’s Crown Princess had just stepped out from her royal chariot, it all seemed like a dream to him. She was in her school uniform, yet she was looking like the princess of some country. At that moment, he was not able to resist himself from staring at her. Not literally, but yes he was staring. Then he came back into his senses and saw her coming towards her.

He smiled at her and she smiled back at him and they both went inside the school together. Then they entered their class and those smiles vanished from their faces as soon as they saw their friends.

by Lakshay Arora

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In a time not akin ours, with people not unlike us, there was a teenager not unlike us. This is the story of how he found his life, his love, and how he went on to get what he wanted even when no one would have expected it from him. This isn’t an autobiography; it’s rather a hopefully heartwarming story which drew inspiration from my life. There are a couple of instances from my life, but each love part is not taken from anywhere, and IS FICTIONAL!


Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here


He felt ditched. Reason left him; how the hell could she not come in front of him?!

But as is the case with teenage boys, he got over this quickly enough. A week after that, he was jumping around like a spring chicken, oblivious to the worries of the world. It’s been said that true inspiration comes from a broken heart, but what about the inspiration when a load has been taken off your back? On top of that, it’s not like we teenage boys are the fastest at anything, are we? Hell, if we had a competition over this, I guess frogs would be more romantic than us.

Every single person nowadays has someone with whom they’ve fixed a song as ‘their’ song. In this period of time, he started listening to that song over and over again, and was shocked at how idiotic that song sounded to him. He tried to hear it again to find out why he had liked the song in the first place, but all rationality had left him. He changed his songs, but more importantly, he just gave a couple of tweaks to his life.

School life passed him by; after all, which kid his age would want to get up every day in the morning and think ‘yes, we’re going to start this chapter today!”? It was like it was always going to be. As long as you left the system alone, the system would not gobble you up. But there was something wrong with the way he felt towards school life. He started looking at life within those boundaries as just an intermediary to the larger picture, as just a stepping-stone towards the real world outside. I guess that’s actually the right way of thinking, but come on, which kid among us doesn’t want to go to school every day if only to meet his friends and have fun? Leaving aside some of the ‘un-social’ kids, if you may, but then, he wasn’t having any problems in that regard.

It wasn’t like he didn’t talk to girls at all. Earlier, you’ve already been told of his brief fling when he was all of 13 years old. But as is the case with most children of his age, it was never going to go on, and these two just drifted apart over time.

Perhaps he just didn’t consider himself ready enough to be drawn into this net of relationships. He had heard a lot of comments from people around him about how difficult it is to sustain a long relationship with someone, and some very hurtful comments towards their ex’es. And it horrified him that some situations can occur which can make someone think about another being in that way. I guess that was the reason he just made up his mind that he wasn’t big enough and man enough to take care of a special someone for a long time. He preferred to go about his life as it were, keeping everyone happy while not taking it any further.

He went to tuition, but it just wasn’t the same now. He missed the fact that earlier, he actually had someone to stare at when everything being taught in class was zooming right over him. The rest of his gang were fun enough, but something just felt missing. That did not mean that they didn’t have fun in class, joking with the teachers and spreading the gossip around them. These are the small little things which can make the most boring of things worthwhile, and he fell right back into it.

And then one day, his gang and he reached tuition early, and they went inside early because the helper was watering the pavement outside. Most of them were in a good mood then; it was a glorious day with a chance of rain in the next couple of hours. There were still 15 minutes or so left for the class to start, so they just started to do anything which came in their mind. After drawing faces of Scooby-Doo, Powerpuff Girls and a couple of other Cartoon characters which came in their minds, they started to mess with their own hairstyles, asking others just how big an idiot they looked like. And just when he had managed to make up his hair in such a way that half of it came into his eyes  and it was all standing out like a porcupine’s from the side, she walked in….

Imagine the expression on the poor guy’s face. Not the best second first-impression anyone would want to have on someone he was attracted to, was it? But he quickly regained his composure and included her in the fun. Though he seemed solid enough at the outset, a cold feeling had crawled up his spine. He had let go with such difficulty, but now that she was in front of him, the world just seemed a bit messed-up to his adolescent mind.

In the break, he again kind of ditched his friends to stay back with her and talk. With the pretext of catching up, they went on a long walk of the nearby areas, as far away as possible from the study centre that could be acceptable in those 25 minutes.

Remember the piles of concrete or whatever it is that looks a lot like sand, which you always see near any place where construction is going on? Sometimes the smallest of things, however irrelevant they may seem, are the biggest things possible in a normal person’s life, and you just can’t help yourself but try to climb over it and feel like a circus performer. That was the day he first held her hand, supporting her as she climbed over the huge pile out of childish want.


In a time not akin ours, with people not unlike us, there was a teenager not unlike us. This is the story of how he found his life, his love, and how he went on to get what he wanted even when no one would have expected it from him. This isn’t an autobiography; it’s rather a hopefully heartwarming story which drew inspiration from my life. Yes, there are a couple of instances from my life, but each love-part is not taken from anywhere, and IS FICTIONAL!


Go and read Part 1 here 


Yes, it wasn’t the best of starts for him, but honestly, which teenager would care when he can get to sit with his crush like that? Some can go all high heaven for a chance to do so. And of course, the best part of Truth & Dare was to pair someone with his or her crush.

Soon after that, he had a fight with his mom over the dishes. He had eaten his sister’s birthday cake and forgotten to put it back into the fridge. It wasn’t anything big enough to fight over, but his mind really wasn’t in it. His mother sensed that he wasn’t listening to her, and further prodded him. Brought back from his daydreams, he snapped back at her, exasperated by everything going on in his life. One thing led to another, and he found himself trudging off all alone to his room for some privacy. He went there, sat down on the floor, and promptly started daydreaming.

Next day, he again got ready for school, but his mood just wasn’t in it. Games at school went some way to taking his mind off things, and he acted like a lunatic all day. His friends didn’t mind; as long as they got their dose of entertainment, why would they care about whatever madness he did? His mind wasn’t on studies all day, but I guess that could be said about half the school. It was a glorious day outside; the sun was out in its full-glory, yet there was that cool little breeze blowing which made every teenager’s head go crazy. You know the things you daydream about when you’re sitting in the middle of the exam hall with absolutely nothing to do. It was somewhat along the same lines, with the exception that he wasn’t really thinking about what to do with his friends like the rest of us normally would have.

Till now, he had fair falling all over his head in a heap. He didn’t really care about it before, but suddenly he started paying attention to his face and everything else that, you know, isn’t like normal guys. He combed down his hair, he spiked it up, he tried absolutely every possible kind of hairstyle. Exasperated, he nearly got a crew cut, but luckily someone talked him out of it. Such was his longing for her to notice him.

I’ve said that he was one of the more social kids of his age. He enjoyed talking to different people and sharing their problems, and if he could, try to give them solutions. But when he needed to have shared it with someone else, he preferred to clamp up and withdraw inside his shell. Some people can think over matters so much that they put themselves into a bad mood. His friends weren’t idiots; they did know that something was wrong. To see the clown of their gang suddenly sitting in his seat alone when the rest of the class was enjoying themselves in a substitution just wasn’t right. He wasn’t going to get away with his drama anyway; this is India, you know. Friends just cant let each other stay in a bad mood for long, and somehow or the other he cheered up and went about his life.

All that day and the next, he tried to draw out a plan as to how he could go up to her and actually talk to her. He did decide on his opening line, the topics he could talk over with her, and absolutely everything that he would want to know about her. He reached the centre well ahead of time, put his books inside and came outside to stroll around the place, waiting for her. He just wanted to have a glimpse of her, no matter what it took. But she never came, not that day, not the next, not that week…


In a time not akin ours, with people not unlike us, there was a teenager not unlike us. This is the story of how he found his life, his love, and how he went on to get what he wanted even when no one would have expected it from him. This isn’t an autobiography; it’s rather a hopefully heartwarming story which drew inspiration from my life. There are a couple of instances from my life, but each love part is not taken from anywhere, and IS FICTIONAL!


You couldn’t really fault him for being the way he was. If life had taught him one thing, it was to never trust others to do the work you could do yourself. Over the years, he had found out that the only way for children like him to merge in was to make yourself entertaining, to make yourself the clown of the gang. It wasn’t the hardest thing for him, he was in his element when he was allowed to talk free without any restraints, and somehow he found it a lot easier with people of all sorts than most others of his age.

Talking about his looks, they weren’t much to talk about when he was younger. Neatly combed hair stuck down over his round head, a protruding nose which was a bit curved at the tip, and eyes that were sharp yet sleeping. His dressing sense was like all children at first, exactly as his mother ordered him to. This started to change as he grew older. His features became more pronounced, and he started transforming into someone who people would term as good-looking. Not like the ‘oh, he’s so hot’ type, just plain old good-looking with softened features and a balanced face. As all children, he started to rebel when he entered double-figures and puberty started to set in. He felt each emotion a hundred times stronger, but the one emotion that eluded him was love.

As he grew up, he slowly started building his fame in the school. A couple of academic awards later and playing in the school football team, other students started knowing of his existence. It wasn’t like he was hard to get to, rather that he just didn’t bother to. A lazy kid some could call him, but one who could shine when it really mattered. He didn’t get along with everyone, but he didn’t despise anyone for not liking him.

The kid I’m describing wasn’t challenged in any way except for the fact that he wore spectacles. But seeing as a third of the population around him did so, it wasn’t really a big thing for him. In fact, there was nothing extraordinary about him. Good enough in academics, good in football, good with his friends, he was a Jack of all trades, master of none. I guess kids like him really were popular among his peer group. But despite everything, he never got a swollen head; it was all the same for him whatsoever the case. It wasn’t like opportunities didn’t present themselves for him to show off and make a scene; it just wasn’t in his nature.

The only field he wasn’t accomplished in was in matters of the opposite sex. These completely passed him by, and perhaps he just didn’t think himself ready to get into all of this. It’s not as if the girls around him weren’t pretty enough, it’s just that the one for him wasn’t among them.

He did try his hand at love, you know. There was a brief time when he was 13 when he thought he had finally grasped the meaning of interaction with the opposite sex. There was a girl in his class who he liked conversing to. He wanted to sit with her every day, wanted to know what happened to her everyday and what she did every day. But it just wasn’t meant to be. Before anything developed, the two of them grew apart. They didn’t have a fight; they just drifted apart over time.

He was a plucky kid, no doubt about it. Announcing to the world on Facebook that he was gay as part of a dare, he never stood down from making a mockery of himself as long as people around him were having fun. Kneeling down in front of innumerable girls to propose as part of the infamous Truth & Dare times, he set the benchmark for doing the things others would have been afraid to. People admired him for his bravery, and he basked in the glory of their admiration.

It was only when he approached his last 2 years in school when he found himself drawn into the net of social interaction. He started conversing with girls over the net, he started talking to them in person when earlier he would have ignored them, he just started to have a positive looking social sphere. People were entertained by talking with him, and he was glad to be of service to everyone. But even among the people he talked to, he never had the first inclination of the first signs of love. He never daydreamed about any single girl when he was alone.

Taking up group tuition when he reached his higher class, he started having a wider range. He was still popular in there, yet he was still trying to find his way. It was there that he set eyes on her for the first time. The way she tied back her hair, the way she held herself, it just appealed to the person inside him and he needed to know more about her. He didn’t even dare to go to her and ask her name, he found it out by peaking into the class list. Secret admiration grew inside him, and he was killing himself for a way to get to her.

It would be prudent to say that he lived on like this. He knew that he couldn’t pass a single moment without thinking about her, and he returned to Facebook with a new vigor. He started talking to a whole lot more people, he started putting more of his life onto the net, yet he didn’t dare send her a friend request. For doing so would have been him making the first move, and he didn’t dare do that. I suppose there was that political side inside him, which analyzed each situation far harder than he should have.

One day, he reached late to class because he was coming from a friend’s house. Miraculously, the entire class had chosen just that very day to all be present, and that wasn’t even an important class. I suppose most of them had gotten bored of bunking classes, and it was just unfortunate for him that they had chosen just that day to reach and enter on time. There wasn’t a single seat empty for him, any, except one. This was by her side. Reprimanded by the teacher, he went and sat down beside her. Normally, people would have been cursing the teacher for having embarrassed them in front of their batch. But he wasn’t thinking about any of that. After an hour of molar concepts, all he retained in memory was that she smelled of strawberries.