Within My Mind?!

Suicide, Should I? I could never forget that day. I think that was the lowest point of my life since I never have been hell depressed as I was in those days. I could perfectly remember, I was in the third semester. I was known by a few people inside the campus, and I 'believed' most of them had no care for what I was. Except for a fraction of those few, others would just put up a strenuous smile when they meet me, and before I could speak up or compile a sentence in my mind, they would have breezed past me. That day I decided to walk up the stairs till they end, and I had climbed ten stairs while I pondered on the above thoughts. Let me introduce myself a bit more in detail. I was the top scorer in academics after the end of the first year, and that had made possible to have a very confined and small group of friends. There was this rumor or something going around - this guy is hell serious, he has no life other than that with the books, laptop, and notes. If I would lo...

My son somehow got hold of the letter—the one from Dear Crush . He managed to understand the first six lines. I hadn’t wanted him to know, but at the same time, I didn’t want to hide what happened next from you all, either.

It’s a fine Monday morning. I was going through my old college books, which were covered with dust. I was searching for one to help my son understand a concept better. Suddenly, a letter slipped out. I picked it up. Something was scribbled on it— I suffered from a terrible toothache. I needed to see a doctor. Instead, I met a nurse. I told her about the pain. She listened and then walked away to call the doctor, leaving me with hope. But what remained? Me. My increasing pain. Nostalgia hit hard. To all my dearest people, I wish to share a glimpse of my thoughts from one evening—three days before I wrote this letter. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I stood near the wall—specifically, in one corner of the floor—waiting. Just waiting for the people inside the HOD’s room to come out. I needed to get in for a signature. I had been in the department since five in the evening. It was nearly seven now. Oh gosh! How...

Stuck, Will I had to go up. Stairs - worse idea. Better I would take the lift. I had to go to the floor marked 'two', and as it seemed I was on the ground floor. So you might suppose, stairs is not that a bad idea for a young lad of nineteen. But the plan of the building was such that there was a floor marked 'M' between the ground and floor one. Now, why? Simply they could have named it one! The answer is there if you just visit the building! So I pressed the button 2, and the lift opened. See my luck - time was 10 PM, I had to go to floor 2, the number of people in the building, less than fifty I suppose. Better would have been if I would have been coming down to the ground floor, there were guards there. I entered the lift, the door shut. I had promised myself, I would complete the assignment. Instead, I simply was indulged in some non-sense chats with friends. I don't say they are undesirable, but as long they are contained within a time gap. I had bee...

What If All My This question must have come to your mind - when you took your first flight. I had at least. What if the floor of the washroom just opens up! The sound, remember?! It all began with this. I was on a flight back to Bhubaneswar from Mumbai. I had recently done a research internship, and hell excited to come back to Bhubaneswar. Everything was normal. I woke up at five, though throughout last week, I had woke up, at least 7! Better for me. My flight was at 12. Thirty minutes later, I felt to use the washroom. I stood up from the seat and started walking down the aisle. I reached the washroom opened it. Job completed. I saw the flush button - pressed it. There was that sound, I smiled, the floor opened, I was in mid-air. 'Aaaah!' shrieked I. 'Holy crap' shrieked again. I was accelerating, my body was getting warm, hot, fired. There was fire all around me. Damn, what was happening? Well, I suddenly realized, I had a parachute. I didn't remember pu...

I was under immense pressure. In the secret code language, we all understand—'Nature's call.' I was in tenth grade, ranked fifth in the class. Then there was Wharkin—studious beyond belief. I honestly don’t know if there’s a book she hasn’t read. Her study room was a library, books scattered everywhere, each tagged with what looked like summaries. But they weren’t just summaries—every book was underlined, scientific journals and research papers filled with pencil-drawn diagrams. I rushed toward the washroom entrance.  As I reached the door,  I was reassured by the familiar sight of closed compartments and felt relieved that I was in the correct washroom. I have this phobia that I might enter the wrong one. Yeah, at some point or other in your life,  you've probably had that fear too—or at least, every boy in our school did ! I opened the compartment and something else.  Oh, what a glorious, satisfying relief! I remembered visiting Wharkin’s house yesterday a...

A shrill cry echoed in the mist. I slammed the brakes. Had I taken a wrong turn? No. That couldn't be. I had driven this route since I was twenty. Before that, I didn't have the courage.  But something was different tonight. The mist was never this thick. At least I could know where there was a stone and where there were trees. I came out of the car. It belonged to my boss. Ten years old. Why the heck wouldn't he buy a new one? I have always dreamed of driving a Ford, but no, he would give me this second-hand car to drop off his children. The kids must have been frustrated by now, too!  Whatever. I locked the vehicle and walked towards the cry, and it sounded like a masculine voice.  These misty moors hide a lot more than they are hidden from the eyes! I took the stony path to the top. I switched on the flashlight, but it had drained due to excessive use. Without a flashlight, I felt like a tiny, afraid little mouse. I thought of returning, but that voice still rang ...