LUCID INTUITIONS

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 open...

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...

Why the moral policing? Kunal jerked his head , after all isn’t it my money and health, grinded his teeth . Who gives them right. “I know I am in the right.” he said the words out loud but no one heard it as he was alone in his workshop. See I have said it, then why do I still feel the pain in my head? From his position on the sofa Kunal looked at the bolted door, at that moment another thought spurred up. With fame comes great responsibility . The one constant advice he kept hearing all through his childhood to the initial years of adulthood. Was this the source of his discomfort? Was being a famous painter reason of his freedom to be being taken away? He remembered how the people closest to him becoming cautious with every new success of his, and came up with their do’s and don’ts lists, much to his chagrin. Things became so chaotic that he felt choked, so he discarded his so called well wishers, with the exception of one, a mischievous smile adorned his face.   ...

Vikram straightened his coat, and looked about the majestic bungalows situated on either side of the road. Opulence; was the word which came to his mind. He quickly wiped the precipitation formed on his forehead with the handkerchief. Wealth and its associated comforts always made him nervous; as they were contrary to the constant hardships and pains he faced and fought against throughout his life. Vikram took out an old worn out piece of paper from his breast pocket and read; 1002-C, Gulmohar Parks .  He observed the number plate of the bungalow in-front of him; 998, four more to go. His mundane life was jolted when his mother came out with the admission, your father is alive. This was contrary to the information, your father died in an accident; he had been feed since his childhood. By the time Vikram could process the information; your father is one of the richest men of the city; his mother added. The weight of information left him gasping for air as if someone had pu...