The Blue Parchment Club

Three Generations stood over a line and looking at each other, whispered their inner voice as. Old man :- No tomorrow to me, only I have a mere memories of yesterday , let me be with you  Son. Man :- No memories to me, want to build my empire for tomorrow , let me go away, Father. Child :-   Neither I have memories Nor interest in tomorrow, I wish to live today , let me be with you (Mom & Dad). Who is right, whose wish is wrong? .No teacher, preacher, parent, friend Or wise man can decide!

Their marriage was a game of chess,each move made made was a play for power.Their children were pawns often victims of collateral damage. Each move resulted in a shift of power but also erosion of themselves. Their greed for power had long before demanded the sacrifice of themselves and everyone around them. They were blinded by power,completely oblivious to the carnage caused. With thier wings cut ,kept in gilded cages the pawns played moves of thier own to survive,to be in the game,to be free. 25 years later the game continues only that the prince is now the king.

As he stood there yet again, looking over at the window, with his binoculars in one hand and a key-ring, his lucky charm in the other. He knew something was wrong today, He could see some women's clothes strewn across haphazardly in the apartment. He had known for a while that he was  cheated upon by Shiva, his ex-bf, but seeing him in bed with a woman was a shocking revelation. How could he do that to him? maybe only revenge would satisfy him now, would his lucky charm work its magic yet again, he wondered, checking the safety band of his revolver.            

Flashlight, camera click, how many likes, how many followers is it all that matters in this world. Reading the book "Open" by Andre Agassi, I'm stuck with this one line "Image is Everything". It makes me question everything that happens  around me. It keeps on replaying in my mind. I think that  bit by bit, we are losing our human touch. We are now stuck in the reality of virtual world. People have all the time in this world for social media sites but no time for human beings. Human beings are losing one thing that made them a social beings- their ability to express their emotions instead of hiding behind the social media. I am afraid that we are on our way of becoming ROBOTS.

Sauria are the true lizards of the lizard family. Geckos, which are the most common form of these lizards, frequently hang out in my room. They hang upside down from the ceiling, always keeping a wary eye out for me. Were they here during the time that I had been away as well? I remember hanging like they do, precariously from tall trees made slippery by the constant rain. Scared, silent and still, we stayed there clutching our guns as if they were life jackets. Two days it took for the rest of the platoon to clear the route for us, before we could climb down from our ‘strategic positions.’ We could be people once more, instead of lizards. Maybe that’s why I feel closer to the geckos now that I’m back – I’ve somewhat seen the world from their vantage point. Or, maybe they’re like the surrogate pets that I’ve never had the courage to keep. I hope they don’t let go and disappear after hearing about them being the surrogate pets. The truth is, to put it rather bluntly, I’m scared. I

She is not allowed to stay with her male cousins anymore. The same fat boy who wore her frocks as a toddler, she wore his pants in return; the tall and skinny structure who bit her thigh, she kicked his balls in return; the best brother who shared his part of sweets, she offered hers. Rigidities of gender never haunted her until puberty struck her hard.  Her helpless heart, caged, cries every night under the silence of the world, wanting to break free.  The poetess of the class, adjusts her piece of clothing, inhales the air of confidence before presenting the seminar amongst adults. She is scared to narrate the tale of truth. They live on lies now. Every character wears a mask in the other half journey of contradictions. There are questions to be answered, blindly accepted norms to be challenged, there is an urge to live in the world of constant entries and exit.  In the city of chaos, she is looked down upon with the setting of the sun. The glass of wine she holds is poiso