Too young to understand. Too naive to speak!

The majestic skyline in the backdrop is looking down at me. I have always enjoyed the shade of the concrete jungle and living here is like dream come true. Its Thursday and being a creature of habit, I start walking towards the weekly street bazaar. I have not bought anything here per se. It has been years since Whole Foods has been looting my whole salary, but the Gyros and Pretzels are really to die for and incentive enough to want to venture onto the streets. Besides, all the dope stories I keep hearing about people having some really paranormally ludicrous experiences, a couple of them from my friends and colleagues about how something happened right here, in this very bazaar which left them aghast, have me intrigued and so I return back to have my own! It has been almost two years of these weekly walks and each visit has only furthered my belief that there is some correlation between the stories I have heard and the Marijuana legalization wave, which swept the world about

"I remember that day as if all of this happened just yesterday. I was waiting at the door calling out your great grandmother to get me my lunch box. She came running through the hall passage and handed it over to me. I grabbed it and started running. Now that I think about it, it could have well been like a scene from the Olympic relay races. The stakes were really high. I started running down the stairs while simultaneously placing my lunch box into my school bag with just one hand. I was done with it by the time I reached the ground floor. I started running towards the intersection where your favorite ice cream shop is. I gained pace as I sprinted through the compound. I used to have a rectangular backpack back then, with prints of some cartoon character. A water bottle clinging on to my neck, baggy half pants and a checkered shirt, the sleeves of which ended around my elbow and talcum powder smothered all over my face courtesy of your grandmother. Watching a chubby young lad

Flexing his eyes in all possible directions, he finally gave up and couldn't hold his tears any longer. It had been almost 10 minutes since he finished reading the book. 'What a fateful setting to finish reading such a book!' he thought to himself as the bus steered past the dark streets. Just as he closed ‘The Diary of a Young Girl’ to keep it in his bag, a tear fell onto the cover of the book. As he looked towards it, his eyes stopped at the innocuous looking Anne Frank. He had lost track of where the bus was, how many people were on it. In the deafening silence of the empty bus he could feel a connection to the face on the cover. Not just her image or her story, he felt connected to her thoughts, he could feel what she went through and what it would have been like to be in her shoes, even beyond the physical and psychological aspects of her tragedy. Goosebumps all over his arms and tears gushing out of his now closed eyes, all he could think of was the line- "

The sky was cast with dark clouds, the moonlight struggled to make its way through this veneer that lay over the sea. For a moment​ the howling wind swayed away the clouds and a star filled canvas made a brief appearance. The sound of the dancing waves was just as sweet as a lullaby. He wished that the waves never hit shore and this lullaby went on forever. He lay on the raft gazing at the sky, while the moon, stars and the clouds played hide and seek. The wind and the waves cheered on in support while his mind had been looping “ I’m lost at sea, don’t bother me….” all along. The playful wind and waves suddenly turned recalcitrant and rain started falling from the stars.  Soaked and shivering he woke up, standing up and crossing the threshold towards  consciousness … The raft was missing and there was no sea surrounding him. He had no recollection of how he ended up sleeping on the sidewalk . Baffled, he gathered his thoughts as he looked around and ran towards the bus stop on the st

Carl had finally advanced to the last year of his engineering degree. Just one year to go! It had really been a struggle for him. He had even featured in the news for scoring a perfect 4 pointer on 10 for 6 continuous semesters. When asked he used to give the same old reply, "Somehow, I manage!" Until now he had been told he had no prospects of getting a job well because of his GPA most probably and he didn't care either. You could rarely see him in class during college. If you saw him, he would be in his same old shirt, his eyes stating the obvious that he was on a seraphic high. His world had turned upside down this morning when he got a call from his friend that he was eligible to attend a placement drive. BCS (Bata Chappal Services) one of world's biggest conglomerate was coming to campus and he had known everyone except him was eligible for the placement drive. He inquired here and there, just to know that apparently almost everyone had lied on their resumes

"Send Nudes!"  . . . . Now that I have you attention. This is going to be a verbose post and it might force you to think. It might also offend you. However, I hope you spend the next few minutes reading it. You might not regret reading it. Thank you. We all know Abraham Lincoln defined democracy as 'Government of the people, by the people, for the people.' As India recently celebrated its 68th Republic Day some would think ‘WOAH! You gotta be going places by now.’ However it appears as if the modern definition of democracy in our country somewhat reads like 'Government off the people, buy the people, for the sheeple .' To me it appears as if we have created our own version of democracy. An illusion far off from what the founders had imagined it to be! When democracy was supposed to be about not dividing the society into classes....like ever, we seem contented with classification according to castes, as a matter of fact we want more! To add t