Accidental Writers.

Its 3am in the night. I returned home at around 12 from work The day's going to be an early one tomorrow (oh, it's today already) as well. The logical step for me is to sleep right now. Like 'get-as-much-rest' as you can type? So that 'you-will-be-fresh-for-the-work' type? Oh, but this confession can't wait. Not anymore. It's already been quite late. Yup, after such a long time, I have a confession to make I am a self-obsessed, materialistic person, who is more curious about his facebook notifications and Instagram likes than anything else. A typical bachelor, living in some good part of a metro, working in some good consulting firm (and thinking that his friends still work at a better place), who is tired of eating the 'not-so-good' food made by his maid, and doesn't care if he spends a significant portion of salary on Swiggys and Zomato's of the world. An emotional moron, who still cries over the broken relationships, dru...

(Loosely based on a true incident) Let me tell you about a boy. He is an orphan. Nobody is born an orphan. He wasn’t either. But I feel that he should have been. Shocked? Angry? Or feel like “how disgusting this writer is!”? I’d still say the same words. That boy was left by his parents on the doorsteps of an orphanage when he was around 10–11 years old. He was told to live in that orphanage forever and was given a goodbye kiss. 4 eyes must have filled with tears. And 2 innocent ones must be trying to grasp what’s happening. I don’t know if you can classify an 11-year boy as young or old, but I guess, he was just old enough. Too young to be left on his own. But old enough to know that he has been left. Too young to leave his own house forever, but perhaps old enough to know that he won’t see that roof again. Too young to leave those two hands, but perhaps old enough to know that he might not hold them again. One can only imagine the storm that small heart must have gon...

The arrogant sea was in a rage. He had allowed his waves to go wild. They were smashing the shore hard. The beach was shaking with fear. The coral rocks were being crumbled into pieces. Any boat that entered the sea would only return to the beach in pieces. Small pieces. With broken wills. Indeed, the sea was in a rage and the waves were on fire. None of the ships could stand in front of that dance of destruction. Big sailors decided to pull their bigger boats inside the safety of dock. There wasn’t even a single ship in the sea. The sea has marked his territory. Every floating object was either forced to return to the dock or had been smashed to the rocks. The arrogant sea has cleared every object from its waters. Now there were only waves, mocking all the sailors, who stood on the dock, with their hands held high and heart sliding down. The sea was smiling. He enjoyed the fear on the faces of those sailors. And all the sailors were watching this rage of the sea with a sea in ...