Footprints

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Her ears stubbornly tuned out everything else but the needle of the second hand of the clock in the room, as she tried to focus on the words swimming in front of her eyes. It wasn't her first rodeo, but it was different for two reasons. The first was that this would be the first exam she had been in for five long years in academia. The second was that she was on the other side of the table for the first time. She was the ‘adult’ here. There are not many rules for writing a final exam in any college — bring your hall ticket, keep your phone on silent and in your bag, and rid your pockets of any materials (including but not limited to bus passes, receipts, random notes). This was for the students. For the professors, however, only the second rule was common. Apart from that, they had to be vigilant, take regular walking rounds, never sit/stand for too long in the same place and report any case of misconduct or unethical practices to the exam section. So, she h...

    I looked down at my watch - 09:13 am. The heat was bearable but it was only April. Easter had been a good break for me and now I was going back to college. I walked past the baggage security check and looked to my right, where a footbridge was. The Thrissur railway station was a bit crowded considering that it was rush hour and the middle of the week. I looked to the left and spotted some seats beneath a ceiling fan, right next to the deputy station master's office. I placed my suitcase under a seat, my bookbag on my lap, and looked at my watch again. It was now 9:20 am. A young woman in her late twenties was seated across from me. She was wearing a black and white Kalamkari print Kurti with a pair of red palazzos. Her mask covered most of her face and she had shades on. I'd likely stared for a couple of minutes when all of a sudden, an elderly lady rushes to stand next to her.  I look over and see that she's accompanied by a young girl roughly aged around 10 or...

 At first, there is nothing.  Just darkness that seems to surround her. She feels a shiver down her spine as she sees the haze clear. She searches for something and finds herself squinting. She is looking at a young girl, probably a few years younger than her, dressed in a white coat with her hair in a loose low bun running around. She seems to kneel down, stay put for a few moments, then move to somewhere else, repeating everything. She finds herself walking toward the maiden engrossed in whatever she was doing. She gasps when she sees that the girl is herself and at the scene unfolding before her. The girl is now kneeling in front of a man laying on his back, opening a white box with a red cross on it, and tending to his wounds. She lifts her head and attempts to understand where she is but the darkness surrounding them both refuses to show her anything. The girl suddenly looks up and rushes to another area; it's a woman this time - she treats her as well and this keeps happ...

14.2.2012, 8:45am      From a very young age, he'd learned that princesses never married kitchen boys, and he firmly believed that there was no such thing as love. 'Why?' you may ask; because his mother, the purest form of love he had ever known, loved his father, but that love wasn't enough for him. His father truly loved the other woman, but it wasn't enough for her. Both of them loved him, but it just wasn't enough for them to stay together. The only love he knew was the way his mother sang him to sleep, the way he used to bite her cheeks in return, the way they danced in the rain, and the way he lit a candle in memory of her, every February 14th.  Now, as he hugged his grandmother before leaving for school, as far as he could see, the stores on the street were decked in red. From ribbons to curtains, from banners to tiny heart-shaped stickers stuck on huge glass windows, and from gift hampers to chocolate wrappers. 'What is with the whole Valentine's...

 I see your thank you message at 7:21pm, and my mind goes back to the minute we decided to take such a day for ourselves in the first place - and how both of us just knew that we wanted to be by ourselves. We just knew that we could be in our own little world for the hours we choose to spend together. I have zero expectations when I get up in the mornings for days like this, but somehow that sudden hug in the confines of your room made me feel otherwise. It actually felt like I was going to enjoy the day to it's fullest; just because I was with you. So in our cab when you said that you're fine because you're with me, I just couldn't help but smile and sit an inch taller.   My 'clinginess' was an issue with some of my friends in the past and I didn't want to repeat the same thing with you; but then we walked - hand in hand mostly and I realized how much I missed that touch, how much I missed being myself around someone who feels the exact same way. And then...

  Sometime in the 1920s    “You’re early today,” said the mother when her ten-year-old daughter walked in. Her daughter is usually cheerful even after a day of hard work, when she sees her mother. Today, however, something was unusual. The mother peered at her child. “What’s the matter?” she asked.  “I saw Christ today Mother,” she answered.  “How did you know it was Him?” she raised an eyebrow.  “I felt him Mother,” she shook her head. Raising her eyes onto her mother, she spoke again, “it was as if our Lord wanted to speak to me when I gave that old man on the street, half of my meal.”  “Agnes!” groaned the mother, “I must applaud your bravery my child, but what have you eaten all day then?”  “A light went into the man and he smiled, Mother.” The girl sat at the feet of her mother. “That man’s smile erased my hunger. It was our Lord smiling through that man; I’m sure of it.” Her mother paused, unsure of how to go on. This wasn't the ...

  “Ma!” I was getting tired of arguing with her. “I don’t want to get involved with this now.” A joke at the family tailor’s boutique earlier that day had turned my afternoon sour. The Aunty had suggested that it was ‘about time’ that I left my parents’ house. Although Ma had responded calmly at the time, she was quiet the entire drive back home and I had braced myself for the storm to come. Sometimes, it even seemed that just like me, my parents were conflicted – about letting me realize my career dreams and worrying about when to make ‘that’ decision. Age ofcourse is just a number, but it doesn’t stop or slow down for anyone. So, when Ma had asked me about my thoughts on that comment made at the boutique, I had told her ‘not to worry’. Unfortunately for me, those three words flipped her switch.  “Why? Do you have someone?” she asked.  I looked at her, hurt. “Really? You think I’m already out of that mess?”  “I just don’t want anything good to slip by, while we ...

O liver   “Attention; Air India Flight 479 to London will begin boarding shortly. Passengers are advised to have your boarding pass and identification ready. The inconvenience is deeply regretted.”  Oliver gritted his teeth. That was the fourth time the exact same announcement was being made at the F2 boarding gate within the last hour. His patience was wearing thin. He’d never been late for a flight before, but this morning was different – he’d been feeling weird. His alarm didn’t go off, his coffee pot broke, his watch stopped working and his 4K Nike running shoes split from its quarter to the vamp! He wasn’t one of those who believed in the signs, but it was certainly too much of a coincidence – and he knew better than to ignore it.  His phone rang and he picked up immediately, “Ma?”  “ Beta ?” his mother’s voice was calming. “ Kahan pohunche ?” (transl.: “Son, where have you reached” in Hindi)  “Reached the airport over an hour ago Ma,” he said,...