Thursday, August 12, 2021

The Boxes



 His family had a huge wooden cottage in the middle of the WhiteOak Forest. It was a well-built winter cabin with chestnut ceilings and steep staircases. The family had settled amidst the city and barely visited the cabin. Ignoring it out of simple nonchalance; they still claimed it to be their family’s most ‘well-kept secret’, for it had a dark attic with mysterious cardboard boxes.

The entire cottage, made out of chestnut wood was disturbed by one metal door guarding the attic. Guarding the boxes. The only window was bolted shut and often covered with heavy shades. The family had hired help to polish the cottage once in a while. The help had access to every corner of the house except the attic. It was off-limits. The attic remained grimey and grim while the other rooms were spick-and-span

It was once rumored that the cottage was built over a graveyard and consisted of a catacomb which was later, renovated into a ‘basement’.


The hired help would reside in the cabin the entire day but had to leave as soon as the clock struck 6. The attic was supported by a faint light bulb, lit daily at 6:30pm and turned off next dawn by someone. Nobody knew who that ‘someone’ was. 


The local people tried to solve the mystery, but saw no one entering or leaving the cabin after 6. But one night, they saw a yellow light reflecting from the half-draped window. An aged man was spotted, lifting the boxes on a mahogany table and carefully bringing out items and judging them under the weak bulb. 

The man understood how his identity was sacrificed. A wooden case was nailed to the window the next day. 


A young chap; took it upon himself to find out the hidden ‘artifacts’ in the boxes. He impersonated a member of the hired help and was admitted in. He remained in the cabin, lurking in the shadows, only to wait and see the aged man opening the boxes. 


It was 6:45pm and a man arrived, not through the front door, but via a passage in the basement. The young boy heard him treading heavily on the cemented stairs that led up to the attic. A metallic handle rattled. The boy had his way in, but did not follow the man inside the attic, being too afraid to get caught. Instead of gaping at the man, the boy stared at the inside of the attic. It was a mess. Test tubes, flasks, chemicals and books were scattered across the room. He waited until the boxes were opened. The man, who seemed to be a professor of science, walked slowly across the room, carrying his pocket knife to scrape open some taped boxes. 


What the boy saw, gave him the shivers. Various human organs were packed in ice coupled with several DNA samples. 


After a decade, the case was disclosed that the cabin was owned by the professor, he had no family. It was all rumors. His family had died long before the cottage was built. He had preserved their organs, only for a colossal idea of his own.


That day, the headlines of esteemed newspapers read-‘Clones Made in the Attic.’ 




 

Sometimes,

 



Sometimes, I like to imagine,

 A dainty green valley with a clear stream and I'm the only one living there. 

Sometimes, I don't want my phone, 

I want a pleasant view of the hills in front of me, reading a book. 

Sometimes, I imagine,

Floating in a lake all by myself, simply looking at the sky.

Sometimes, I feel like

Shunning this world out. 


Do I get my 'sometimes'?





Wednesday, June 9, 2021

HAPPINESS IS A SKILL

 

HAPPINESS IS A SKILL

Every day keeps repeating itself.                                                                                                          Everyday is the same day, for you are running in a circle.                                                      Every night, all you hope for is a better morning. Every day is full of uncertainties. Nothing is planned, anything might fall upon you. Just like a frail hatchling, it seems like you are learning something new every day. The moment you get adjusted to that, a new challenge awaits you.

It gets depressing how everything seems like something already done before. A series of déjà-vus’ float in front of you. It feels like you are trapped inside an hourglass, every second you are buried under more and more sand. And it is soon before you catch your last breath. Truth is, nobody knows when life will take a turn, nobody knows if it will.

Hence,

Enjoy every day for you never know when you laugh for the last time. Do whatever pleases you even if it does not satisfy society. Life is too short to be thinking about others think, and the current situation makes it even shorter.                                                          

Choose something that makes you happy, do it, just go for it. The world is your oyster; the sky is your limit. Nothing is stopping you except your pessimistic inner thoughts. Shun them out. The most difficult job that exists, is ‘keeping oneself happy’. It is the highest paid job there is.

Once you master it, there is nothing stopping you.




Sunday, January 10, 2021

Make Way For The Night

 Make Way For The Night


As the sun sets behind the hills,

The spasms of red and orange make way for the blue and black.

The creatures of dawn go into hiding;

Making way for the night’s pack.

 

Leaving the horizon, taking all the warmth away,

Letting the Moon to glimmer and glow;

And letting the stars to dazzle and dance,

The breeze from the East serenely blows.

 

Scattering its faint light on the plains so green,

Shimmering over the dainty sea now and then,

Guiding those, who need her light.

And before they know it, its morning again.



Sunday, November 22, 2020

Google is the Death of Libraries

 Have we ever thought deeply about the impact Google has caused in our lives? 

It might be beneficial in numerous ways, but it surely acts as a threat to libraries. People have lost the urge to walk into a library and issue a book. Either they have read chapters of it online or have googled its summary for a book report. Everything is just an 'Ok Google' away, and that's what attracts people. Today's generation is all about saving time , they don't care about the knowledge they gain from a book, as long as their work is done in about fifteen minutes. Everything is available on google, be that a general wonderment or some sample papers for the Boards. Most importantly, Google has turned people to be indolent. Google is seriously the death of libraries. 

Would libraries even exist in the next decade?




Tuesday, September 29, 2020

I Am The Way I Am

 Racism, the most common topic nowadays. They say "Beauty comes from inside." Although, only a few believe in it

 "Don't wear that dress, it makes you look fat!" 

"You should wear some makeup, atleast try to hide your scars." 

"Oh no! That colour? That will make you look even darker." 


So what if she has tattoos all over her body, so what is she has green streaks in her hair, so what if she wears a crop top yet she has stretch marks.


She is so alluring, 

I wish I had her hair. 

She is so good-looking, 

I wish I was just as fair. 

She has the perfect smile, 

She is as fine as a wine. 

She has the perfect weight, 

I wish I didnt have to lie about mine. 


But, 

I am smart, 

I always have my friends's back. 

I have a good heart,

But they still call me black. 

But, 

I don't care what they say,

I don't care how much I weigh.

I am better than the rest,

I KNOW I AM THE BEST.


She is beautiful the way she is. Don't try to CHANGE her. CHANGE your thoughts. 


Saturday, September 12, 2020

Sunny Side Up!

 We all are familiar with that lazy feel we get on a Saturday morning.

You hate to get out of your bed but at some point you know you have to. For me, that point is usually around 11am, when my father barges into the room and snatches the blanket away for me. I usually haggle around for "15 more minutes" but these days, it seems like a waste of energy.

I prepare my lousy soul to put on the work face and speak in an incohorent manner for a few minutes. However, this Saturday, I was quite energetic.

Father had prepared a special Saturday brunch after almost two years! I absolutely love to eat that.

It was a truly colourful plate consisting of the king of meat, bacon. He added two types of eggs. The toasts were exactly perfect and the poach was round and bright. That red meat was the star of the plate. The chopped and glossy bacon enhanced the whole meal. The brown toast had scrambled eggs on it which was equally scrumptious. In a sentence, the whole plate was nothing but perfection.


This was my Saturday morning and I know that the Sunday will pass away quickly as well. Looking forward to the next weekend but before that, I have to survive through another dreadful week.