DABBLER SCRIBBLES

“Miss Neer you look as pretty as ever”. Arnav blushed as he saw Miss Neer. It was the seventh floor of the company and Arnav has his desk in the rightmost corner of the floor, desk number 26. Arnav had a liking for Miss Neer. He loved the smell of her perfume, the sweet cardilac, the little pearl necklace around her neck, her...

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Anybody can answer this? The professor cleared his throat only to scream again….. Anyone? I knew what he was asking for, what he expects as an answer but I chose not to raise a voice or my hand. Saturday afternoon cradling in the soft breezes which sneaked in through the window, accompanied by the euphoria of the new blossoms touched by their aroma,...

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“Click a pic!” Arnav threw his camera at me while he got himself busy appreciating the beauty of place. 9 am in the morning and we were at the fort palace of Nizams, rulers of Hyderabad and nothing got better than peeping over the city from the fort top. More than 5 decades since the abdication and the essence of strength has not...

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“Excuse me, which way is to the bus station?” I asked a heavy built man who was all dressed up in the south Indian attire.” Which way…..to the bus station?” I asked him again. 12 pm in the noon and I was all lost in the streets of an old city of Madras. Old city, I guessed, going by the houses and their...

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It was not before the fall of spring that he realized what he was getting into. Why his nights go insomniac, why he feels a rush of blood every time now, why he fumbles or at times end up eating all the words, why he plays that song again and again, why he couldn't get his classes right anymore. So many whys and...

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Long, long ago. Wait!! Not very long before WhatsApp came into picture, a great user whom all the rest called “THE CREATOR”, created a group, “THE KINGDOM” and added all the contacts of the world. He subsequently passed the group Adminship to his users era after era and the present admin was Prince Of Verona. Years of chat were carried with all the...

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Listen, look at the man over there, “He is mad”, my friend chuckled as he pointed at an old man ,at the steps of a closed shop. Bedraggled clothes, dowdy hair having all the twists and turns that a river would have running down a mountain, overgrown beard  almost hiding his face, bluntly showing his desire to disguise himself, nails grown enough to...

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10 am in the morning and I swayed in the streets along the countryside gandering at everything. Two streets off and I was stuck at the courtyard of a hut. Covered in hay stack it had walls of brick that held it. The wall owned many cracks that smuggled light into and eventually opened in an entrance covered by rugged sheet of cloth....

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                                               (Does the pic say nothing or something!) Nothing!! That’s a strange word. 4 pm at the coffee shop on a Sunday evening, I asked her,” What’s between us?” Nothing”, she whispered while texting to her friend. Nothing!!” How could there...

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“Filthy! Do you even read your work?? What gives the clue that you could be a writer?? “, the publisher threw the paper on my face as he chewed on a few more beetle nut bits.” Next time if you go to a publisher, make sure you have read your filth first”. Filthy work? He calls my work filthy!! “If people like him...

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