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THE ART OF KILLING TIME

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Thinking is my way of dispelling boredom, as it provides an avenue for expressing the most intimate feelings; which are not always pleasant. Anyway who has control over their thinking? Heard very few people have control over their thinking, sadly I don't belong to that esteem club. Although one aspect about thinking - whenever one concentrates on them one always find them flying about, but with no logical pattern attached to them, is the most prominent reason why I like to think - thinking transports me to a world where reality and fantasy merge, resulting into the birth of a  new reality that is; maybe, morphed on the actual happenings of the past. As I flip-flop among continuous churning thoughts, I single out and concentrate on a particular situation that happened some years ago.   I was involved in my favorite hobby, mind exercise - to pass the boredom. Actually had it been time which was equated to money then I would have been a millionaire many times over, sadly world i

NOTHING IS FORGOTTEN

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Coming down the stairs lost in thoughts I barged into people. This absent mindedness was not a character flaw of mine, but actually started in the job interview from which I walked out midway for no apparent reason- felt uneasy and left the room. The interview was for a new job I had applied few weeks back, and its result was staring me in the face. Not getting the job wasn't the main issue; my major concern was to find the reason that triggered my falling down the slipper slop of introspection which culminated into me leaving the interview midway. The why of not completing the interview held more weight-age as acquiring new job was topmost on my agendas; had been unemployed for four months.  'Hey! look out' the statement from a passerby gave me a start and I narrowly avoided colliding with a big burly man coming up the stairs.   Out in the open I felt rain drops trickling down, and as reaction quickened my steps towards the bus stop to keep myself dry from the unse

LET ME BE

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As I disconnected the phone, a calm descended upon me. Declining the party invitation was significant as it came from one of my closest college friends. Actually going out and meeting new people was never my thing. In fact it was Rina, my ex-girlfriend, who wanted me to become an outgoing person. Initially I did; as some would say out of love! But as I think back those forced outings brought me only pain. The recent offer was not the first invitation that I had declined, but I hoped this refusal would serve as a marker for others. As word would spread that I had declined a party invitation from one of my closest pals. With that, hopefully in time they would stop bothering me altogether. And let me be in peace to mend my broker heart. So that once again I am free to pursue the hassle-free life of being an introvert, which I used to love before the pathetic thing 'love' happened to me.

A SUPPRESSED LIFE

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The auditorium was full of people and instead of clapping they were pointing fingers at Manu in unison. He repeatedly tried questioning them the reason of their unrest, but neither his shouts; which were enveloped by the noise of many mouths taking all at once, nor his random hand gestures had any effect on the exited crowd. In his mind he tried scanning the reason, but caught sight of a group walking to one corner of the auditorium. A man among them was holding on to something. Manu tried concentrating on the object, but realized that another group was getting on the big stage that was erected in his honour.  At that moment he saw that the man was holding his latest painting, without any notice another man slashed at the painting with a sharp object. The disrespect that was meted to his creation churned his heart and a painful “no,” came out of his mouth, while he saw their glee etched faces. Manu’s eyes opened and he saw his reflection, blood red eyes, wearing a brown suite

THE DAY I TRULY FELT BROKEN FROM INSIDE

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I thought I was set, thought I had found out my essential fundamentals of life. How happy I was, how content I felt. All felt peaceful; it felt like I had charted out my life and its happenings. It was not that, I had all what I cherished, truly speaking there were a lot of things I wanted to accomplish. But, I felt all was now in front of me, there was nothing that can make me wobble, and I won’t fall for petty things. But alas! That incident had shaken me to the roots. I felt like falling in a deep abyss. It felt that my life was destined for ruins. All of my tall claims, which I made to myself and others; to whom I often preached, ‘how great I was?’ and ‘how they must lead their lives?’ All that lay bare. I felt broken, felt like a man devoid of a backbone. That day dragging myself to my flat felt difficult. See the sarcasm of the situation, every part of my body wanted to rush to my bed and hide myself under the sheet, but my body defied my command. Somehow, I sto