Pens and Pages

               It was two weeks ago when I and two of my friends had planned to spend a night at Betty’s house. It was never in my comfort zone to stay away from home- partly because I am a shy person and do not talk much with anyone except Lisa, but mostly because of my diffident nature. It was my hair problems that stole my positivity away when I turned 20 and interposed diffidence in me. It was my sophomore year when the problems began, and when my fellow mates were looking their very best I had to lose a million hair strands each day due to travelling to and fro college which was almost 11kms away from my home.  I had been avoiding people ever since. One day Lisa bought a hair straightener and suggested me to use it. Indeed it worked its magic and I looked good, for a change, but only for a few hours. I liked the way I looked after straightening my hair and decided to do this every day. This went on for a week until one mor...

This post was written for a contest in Indiblogger by Dove  https://www.facebook.com/dove/app_127320750626819 It was two weeks ago when I and two of my friends had planned to spend a night at Betty’s house. It was never in my comfort zone to stay away from home- partly because I am a shy person and do not talk much with anyone except Lisa, but mostly because of my diffident nature. It was my hair problems that stole my positivity away when I turned 20 and interposed diffidence in me. It was my sophomore year when the problems began, and when my fellow mates were looking their very best I had to lose a million hair strands each day due to travelling to and fro college which was almost 11kms away from my home.  I had been avoiding people ever since. One day Lisa bought a hair straightener and suggested me to use it. Indeed it worked its magic and I looked good, for a change, but only for a few hours. I liked the way I looked after straightening my hair and decided...

                       “Madam ji, gulab le lo, sirf dus rupaiye ”, saying this a hand clutching a pair of red roses sneaked in through the window of the auto-rickshaw I was sitting in.  It was a traffic signal at Hauz Khas (Delhi) which just turned red when the auto I took had to pass the lane. Damn it. I had to reach Katwaria Sarai positively at 10:00 am and it was already five minutes to ten while the journey takes at least fifteen long minutes.  It seemed like thirty seconds of the wee tot time I had to reach my destination, was wasted by the traffic light. Indeed, this was in accordance with the lyrics of the song christened “Ironic” which said “traffic jam, when you’re already late”. I let out a sigh at the thought of this while another hand came in through the same window, to bring me back to consciousness, importuning me to buy a toy airplane, which I was sure I do not need. I shook my head, in a stringen...

“Madam, your fare?” the bus-conductor asked the lady sitting beside me in the bus I took from Jalukbari to Panbazar yesterday. The woman handed out a ten-rupee note and got back a couple of coins.  I had a fifty-rupee note clutched between my fingers to give to the conductor. Although, the fare is only seven rupees, I did not have any other notes of less value with me that day. To my surprise, the conductor moved on to the next seat to ask for fare without taking mine. Perhaps, he confounded that I had given my fare already.  Undoubtedly, I was delighted by the fact that I had my seven bucks saved and I could spend it on a candy bar. But, deep within me, there was guilt that I was doing something unjust.On one hand I was euphoric that I had deft enough not to let anyone know that the reason of the smile on my face was that I was travelling without a ticket. On the other hand it made me feel debauched as I was entirely aware that the conductor forgot to ask me. Considering my ...