Jashan Reet

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January 20, 2020

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AN INTROVERT'S SHIELD

S ummer of 2015, my father was invited, by a world famous Bariatric Surgeon, to a gala dinner. My mother and I were lucky enough to accompany him. At first, I was hesitating to even go with them, but somehow they managed to take me. There were men & women from most of the countries one often hears of. But there was nobody as young as me . As I sat next to my mother, I looked at cameras flashing in a dimly lit atmosphere, as the guests shared humour (I'm sure of great sense), and sipped on to their elixir. Across the table where three men (definitely surgeons), from foreign lands. Spain or Brazil or Mexico I guessed in my mind. She (mother) was not unaware of the boredom I had been facing so she told me to ask them about their nations myself. I'd rather put a bag on my face and be all antisocial than starting a conversation with doctors so great . Now she took it to herself and greeted the three men. She introduced me to them as they introduced themselves.

Unbent

It was the summer of 2014, that welcomed me first to my college. I’d rather say, a confused summer (people staying here would know why). Fresh out of school, I thought I knew the world. But, as stupid as it sounds already, I learnt that learning is the way. You can never know EVERYthing. And, I’m not talking about the medical literature. At 18 years, going out of your hometown to live in a completely different city, with new faces who’ll be there with you for the next couple of years, the idea had always tempted me. But, I soon realised that things weren’t as sweet. I can definitely, with no exclusions, say that colleges are all about sugar-coated drama. A few months in, I learnt how pinky-promises could turn into “I promised Pinky, I won’t tell anyone, but I trust you” and so this chain with truth deciphered into awful lies that ultimately reached Pinky had got too many loops to just about circumferentiate the bounds of our ‘tiny’ planet. The greater cause of burden on hum

Happy Birthday?

A cheerful chirrup, almost like a birthday song, fell upon his ears, a glimmer of golden rays narrowly escaping the barrier created by a sheet of heavy navy lacy curtains lit the room with shimmer. He squinted his eyes, and greeted the 1st day of 10th year of his existence with a smile as warm as an April afternoon. He had been looking forward to turning 10 for as long as he had been 9. I do not remember the time I turned 10. But it must have been a happy day, a tinier version of me feeling ready to take on all the responsibilities and pondering upon maturity that must be expected from me. As you grow older for the first two decades of your life, you think about things you need to leave behind, to be of your age, the toys that you will have to forget, to set upon the righteous path. And, then comes a time when you've been far from home for too long, farther from yourself. You stand at the crossroads. When I stood there, finding wisdom to choose the right way, I turned

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