Soul Stripping on the Net

  TW: Suicide,  Abuse   Advay could not comprehend what was happening. He was numbly following instructions that this portly priest was telling him. His father’s body stank beside him. He remembered the time his father had got cotton candy for him. He remembered the time he got his first video game. And the cartridge: 999 Games in 1. He remembered when his father caught him watching porn – he had thought he was clever enough to hide it by deleting the browsing history. But his father still caught him somehow. He hadn’t scolded him. Merely counselled. He remembered his first Activa, and the first accident. His father did not say anything about the mangled heap of the bike. Just bought him a helmet with the next one. He remembered his father fighting with his mom regarding him. He remembered his father kicking out Harish from the Arts department, whom he had loved. “You are not gay” he had shouted. Advay still felt nausea when he remembered the pills he was forced to ...

Literature is a very powerful substance to get high on and can be both an upper and downer and everything in between. Take Murakami i.e. 1Q84. While the beginning was slow and tedious like drinking brandy neat, Parts II and III go down sweetly like honey. This is in stark contrast to Churchill’s six-volume history of the Second World War. Like a good scotch from start to end, I was drinking it down in gulps like somras. But if you are a cocktail person – getting drunk quickly – short and sweet and high – what other than a Tintin comic – or if you are Old Fashioned, an Agatha Christie? However, if you need to forget him, or her, or them, or all of them, then there are a plethora of Russians ready to serve you and give meaning to your existence - the Karamazovs, Raskolnikov, Anna, the Rostovs or even Lolita. All garnished with enough layers so that you forget everyone else. And if you are drinking to make futile arguments, which in the end mean nothing. Which you don’t mind forgetting af...

                                                                        I “Hey!” “Hi!” “Nice place na?” “Haan very pretty!” “What’ll you have? Waiter, menu card lana. No wait. I’ll have a Jameson large, on the rocks, and madam ke liye, ek Cosmo.” “Perfect! So aaj iss side kaise date?” “You don’t remember? This is where we first met!” “…Yes! Ha ha. Arre haan! How silly of me! Oooo what a nice colour!” //The Cosmopolitan, and the Jameson on the rocks.// “I have got something for you. Let me put it around your neck. Pure silver.” “Wow. This is so beautiful. Thank you so much love.” “I am glad here. Come here…”...

  Sharad woke up on time. He quickly rinsed his mouth, had two bananas his wife had kept ready, wore his shirt and leapt into the bus. Today was the Annual Day. He had to get the kids on time. So he had told all of them to be ready 10 minutes early. Or else… Sharad had transported kids to Vidya Niketan since the school first began, which was 22 years ago. He had watched kids grow up from Jr. Kg all the way to 10 th . Several batches. He was still in touch with many. He had seen fights, romances, projects, bags, new bottles, chocolate and wada pav wrappers, pepsicola too, and wet seats during holi. The kids pierced their bottle tops to let out a stream of water, and he would scold them every year. But none of those days were more important than today. Today, 22 years later, his comrades and him, were on the line. A new principal had appeared. She wanted to centralize. Make everything more efficient. With reports, and something called the "performance index". Sharad had n...

  Every Whatsapp ping beat upon Manoj’s head like a hailstone. And for him, every hailstone was the size of a meteor that caused the dinosaurs to go extinct. "Let me fucking finish my drink in peace", he muttered to himself. So what if he was supposed to be at his desk? So what if he was drinking on the terrace instead of attending his first deliverable meeting? So what if he had not completed his work, and that the client was going to escalate the issue? His mother had died yesterday, he could finish one drink in peace. He was entitled to that much at least, he surmised. Manoj? Where r u Manoj? Manoj the mtng has started... Manoj can u at least send the completed file? Manoj, Santosh is asking for you! You had personally vouched to deliver... Fucking MANOJ WER AREU BLOODY PICK UP MANOJ ?????????? Ashwini’s messages went unanswered as she entered Ishita’s cabin. Her boss took one look at her face and stood up, and asked her to call the client again. Firefightin...