LUCID INTUITIONS

Everything is going to be all right, I recited the statement third and final time looking intently in the mirror as I styled my hair in side parting; as my mother had started to do all those years ago. Mother was long gone, but like a devoted son I had taken her style of combing to heart, and not altered it one bit. After getting done with my hair, I concentrated on my pencil moustache, and combed it perfectly. Then I fixed my attention on my nose; you have the prettiest nose in the world, my mother used to say, but which my confidants told me made me a butt of joke among the people. I smiled at myself in the mirror, what do these people know? Because I knew the power of my crooked nose, one little tweak and the other person would dance to my tunes. As I tugged the white shirt in my blue jeans and patted my flat tummy admiringly at its reflection in the mirror, I heard a knock on the door, “Gopal sir, some people have come to meet you,” Abhi my man Friday said, “should I let th

Nobody knew he should not have gone, but he did, grinding his teeth at the thought he looked at the road from the passenger seat of the taxi. He knew he was not being cynical as it was all too apparent in the way everyone behaved; their pretentious happiness and being extra sweet to one another. It became obvious to the writer in him who delved into human emotions on daily basis. He took out a cigarette from the pack, lit it and took a long drag.  Nobody inhaled deeply letting the nicotine traverse the length and breadth of the body. The relief was instantaneous, relieving him from the heaviness he felt ever since returning from the get together. Nobody left the taxi at the market, walked up to the liquor store and purchased his regular bottle of whisky along with a few eatables to go with it. On the walk back to his house he got recognizable glances from the passer-bys; being a resident of the locality, which he consciously tried to avoid. Reaching his house, he opened t

He a boy of fifteen parted the curtains of his bathroom room window, and looked at the park below. Tweaking the light moustache, which signalled that he was on the threshold of adulthood, he gazed intently at the right cornered benche where three girls were engrossed in chatting, ignoring the other two he concentrated on bob cut haired girl sitting in the centre, Pallavi , his love. He was in the process of capturing her beauty with his eyes, “son, the milk is ready.” The sudden voice of his mother broke the hypnotic spell, and he jumped with a start very much similar to that of a thief when caught in the act of stealing. It took a few deep breaths to calm his agitated state of mind. When his heart beat got back to normal, he was on his feet and ready to do his mother’s bidding, but love overcame - and he paused to have a final look at Pallavi before parting. What he noticed took his breath away; Pallavi was looking directly in his direction. He quickly removed his lanky frame fr