Conversations After Twelve

The warm glow emanating from the laptop screen illuminated an otherwise dark room as the boy lay cuddled in his blankets. An old episode of his favourite tv show lay paused right in front of him and the only source of sound in the room was coming from his phone where a long forgotten playlist was playing an endless loop of songs that would usually take him away.

But not today. Today, everything was still. All that mattered to him were his thoughts. And in that moment, the boy was untouchable to the world.

Its a scary thing, being alone with your thoughts. You could start by thinking of the most innocent things like the creation of the universe and end up in the deepest darkest parts of your mind examining your soul. It was a slippery slope he himself had experienced many times. He was grateful then to hear the soft ping of his phone alerting him of a new notification and with it bringing him back to reality.

“Do you think we’ll ever be teddy west side level pretentious?” It read. And he smiled a satisfied smile and began writing back knowing he was in for a good conversation.

“I think we’re already half way there.”

She laughed and paused for a while. Something had been playing on her mind and she needed clarity.

“I don’t understand the concept of being pretentious though. When I relate to something, and you know I relate hard, I form a link to it. Is it so bad that I want to talk to others about these links and explore them further? Discover their perspectives and enrich my own. Be thirsty for knowledge and want to satiate my own curious nature? Not be ridiculed for wanting to unveil secrets of the past, present and future?

He thought about it for a moment, and said

“Well, I think its perfectly normal for you to want that. Maybe the whole ‘pretentious’ phenomenon was created by outsiders and people less enthused about such things, who wanted to make sure that their inability wouldn’t be made fun of. It makes sense, belittling something one doesn’t understand. We’ve been doing it for ages now.”

She shook her head, not that he could see it and replied, “Yeah. That makes sense. You’ve got a great mind you know? I just know you’re destined to be great. You’re going to have a great life.”

He gave a derisive snort and replied skeptically “Maybe.”

She never understood his cynicism. She never understood why he thought of the world as such a bleak place. For her, if the thought of a greater truth and greater good wasn’t out there then she wouldn’t know how to function.  For what point would there be to exist?

They continued their conversation till the late AMs and finally bid each other good night.

He slept more peacefully than he would on any other day. For like her he  too harboured the roaring and starving monster of curiosity,whose appetite only increased on feeding. What he realised and what she didn’t was that they were among the very few in this world who would always be unsatisfied, who would always want more.

But unbeknownst to both was that even in this uncertainty they would always find someone who helped them keep the monster’s hunger at bay. Because he was the boy who had the universe up his sleeve. And she was the girl with the weary and ever trying heart. A lot was written in the stars for them. All they had to do was go out and look.





Mia (III)

She could feel the emptiness inside her grow. She had cut them off. She had ignored them. She had never felt less constrained. And she felt dizzy with power.

Her facade was iron strong. So much so that she had started believing in the lies she told. She could see their confusion. Their upset over the change in the natural order of events.

She relished in their discomfort. She thrived on their negative emotions. She wanted to hurt them as bad as they had hurt her. But most of all she was glad to be missed. Relieved to be wanted. Her relief however got lost in her desire to lord her power over them. She felt unconquerable. She let the hurt from their laughter fuel her desire for vengeance. She had become, in a word, wicked. And she hated and loved every minute of it.

More. More. More. Wicked thrived amidst the darkness in the girls heart. But he wanted her. Needed her to become one with him. And that could only happen if her fragile heart would be shattered once and for all. And he knew just how to do it.


That Sodding Genius

The decisive clicks of the chalk on the black board marked the end of the chemistry lesson

His book weighed heavily against the table as he got lost in another realm, completely unlike his own. They say books are known to be portals to another dimension. He knew this fact to be true. And even though his classmates had forgotten what it was like to travel to the days of yore and feel the mighty warm breath of a dragon, he remembered. And he had long since vowed to never give it up.

A paper plane crash-landed on his right breaking him out of his reverie. He heard laughter, and idle comments. And instead of joining in, all he did was simply smile to himself. A self-satisfied smile. It was incredible really, how he seemed to be the only person in the history of the world to successfully escape the society. He simply didn’t care.

The ever-smiling maths teacher came in and distributed the checked tests. He leaned back lazily in his chair, receiving his paper with a bright red ‘A’ on it. Around him he heard the mutters, “Oh he’s done it again.” “Of course he gets full.” “This guy.” He simply shrugged them off and went back into his mind, where scores of music sheets were spinning and dancing, inviting him to escape. And escape he did.

On the other side of the room the humane guy who had been staring at him noticed the lost look on his face and wondered what it was about. He considered this wonderment of a guy, a sad kind of beautiful. An enigma even. And he desperately wanted to solve him. He just didn’t know how.

Maybe one day he’d have the guts to go talk to him. But till that day comes, he’d just continue looking at him, trying to figure him out. And the enigmatic guy would be lost in other realms knowing  that there was nothing for him in this one. If only he could open his eyes. If only they weren’t so oblivious.






Mia on farewell (II)

Her process was simple. When the going became too tough, give up. It went against all the righteous messages that stories give you about determination and strong will. But this was not a story tale and she was no hero. When obstacles prop up, and she feels they can’t be overcome, she gives up. Fear, insecurity, threats. Hurt or be hurt.

So she always chose to save herself, because life had taught her that putting yourself out there gets you nowhere. Self preservation is key to survival.

And as she watched Red, laugh at something ridiculous she said, her process was the thing that was farthest away from her mind. She couldn’t imagine a time that she was more happy.

This was months ago.



The irate grumbles of students could be heard from a mile away. Climbing three flights of stairs was no cakewalk. And Mia was just about ready to sit on the next administrator she saw. This was agony and she sure wanted to give the genius behind this decision, a piece of her mind.

She entered her classroom and sat on the first chair she saw. Looking around she made some idle conversation with her classmates looking for Red. And that’s when Marla came blasting through the doors giving an annoyed huff. She’d been off for days now. It was nice seeing her getting back into her groove. She went back to sit and Mia thought nothing of it. That’s just the way she was.

The test was beginning to start and Mia thought, was Red not coming? And that’s when she realized that Red was there all along. Sitting in the back with Marla, Red didn’t even look at Mia.

The minute break started, both of them went outside to talk, joined by the loud mouthed kid and the opinionated teen. Her anchors. They didn’t call her name. They didn’t feel insane.

She hung back, feeling slightly lost. And that’s when she felt the nagging prickle, the one she always tried to avoid. It was Wicked. And this time, she could not will away his existence.

You were an interim friend. A phase. She never liked you. You are less than nothing to them. You are nothing.

Wicked’s sultry whispers felt as sharp as if they were blades. She head over to talk to her others companions, trying to keep his statements away. She knew she was being stupid. Wicked had tried this act on her many times. She would be fine. She would just ignore it.

But as the day wore on, the going became worse. They had their inside jokes and valiant bonds. They forgot about her. And she felt like she was stuck in a glass box. Watching, willing herself to go to them. But something held her back. What once was a beautiful picture, remained a beautiful picture. Just without her  in it. And she realized then that the picture didn’t need her in it to be beautiful.

The revelation hit her like a drunken truck on a moonless night. She’d thought of it before.Of course she had. She overthought everything. But she’d never felt it so staunchly as she felt it today.

Their secret meetings, their hidden deeds, their common abuse and their common seeds turned out to bond them together like partners in crime. And she was the one that was left behind.

And that’s when she decided to stop. Quit before they would devastate her. Just like she was devastating herself with imagined scenarios and stabbing thoughts.

So she decided to leave. Quit while she was ahead. She had become addicted to them. And just like any other adrenaline hopping junkie, she needed to be cut off.

Because in the end, it will always be ‘hurt or be hurt’.

And she’d gotten hurt way too many times.

Wicked smirked. It was done. The war was almost over. And he had won. Soon, the girl would completely be his. And he’d have another victim succumb to their darkness.


Coffee Beans

The tinkle of a tiny bell alerted the customers of a new presence in the coffee shop.  As two figures walked step in step towards the counter, all anyone could notice was how starkly one contrasted the other. Where one was ebony, all angular cheekbones and mystery and grace, the other was ivory, full cheeks, softness and warmth.

Scurrying after them was a young girl, whose poise would rival her sisters. Decked in denim and a breezy smile, she selected a seat exclusive of their parents, wanting to spend as much time as she could with her impassive sisters.

Ebony was on order placing duty, for she possessed the natural elegance and confidence that was the envy of her sisters. Her counterpart however was keeping an eye on the little one, while looking about, drinking in the coffee drenched atmosphere . In doing so she  noticed the group of friends standing towards their right. And therein she saw the lean guy in yellow, looking back right towards them.

Before she could contemplate on what that meant, the pastries and mochas had arrived and being ever so eager, the young one grabbed her arm and rushed her towards their seat.

Tilting her head back and laughing she pulled Ebony along. The comfy brown sofas and small coffee table greeted them as they sat about eating and laughing. They ate with fervor and discussed the most absurd things. And as Ebony shrugged her shoulders and once again dissolved into chuckles, she saw the guy with glasses casting an inquisitive look towards them. Being pulled into another lengthy debate, she dismissed the look, getting ready to fire up.

Not soon after, the coffee cups ran empty, however their conversation was still afloat. Their parents shouts alerted them of the time and the darkness of the sky pushed them to get up.  But as they left the coffee house they could still feel those ethereal fascinated gazes boring into the back of their heads.

On the walk back, both their minds were occupied by the same thought. As the black road stretched on and on, illuminated only by the moon’s light, they couldn’t help but wish how she was the other, drawing gazes one after the other.

What each failed to understand was that alone they were amorous in their own unique way. But together they were bewitching and lethal in the most beautiful way.

Ebony and Ivory.



Mia: on farewell (i)

Does it ever feel like saying goodbye is easier than staying? Because it’s true you know. Leaving is always easier than fighting for what you really want.


As the group laughed at one of the corniest jokes ever told in the history of mankind, the girl chose to sulk in the corner, berating herself for this choice.

Time was passing by ever so slowly and the teacher’s absence was duly noted by each of her classmates. They took this time to eat, talk and laugh and to do things one could only describe as absurd. Some were off arm-wrestling on one side, whereas some, not unlike her, were observing and making comments. On one table, an erotic reading of their English teacher’s unusual book was taking place, and on another the girl who brought said book to attention was basking in the attention received, and glory given to her discovery.

Amid this chaotic jungle sat our protagonist, pretending to finish up some homework. The ruse was a thinly veiled disguise that was easily see through, and on the whole, felt quite pathetic. The clock  on the bleak white wall, mocked her, as it turned seconds into hours and minutes into days. It was excruciating really how quite pitiful she felt, as she drowned herself into another bout of misery.

And then, the magical moment she was waiting for happened. The bell rang, and she, well, ran. She ran and ran as if there were demons chasing after her. And perhaps there were. Demons that were the manifestation of her overworked mind.

The minute she was back in her own class, surrounded by her friends, she found herself sighing in relief. The demons were at bay, her friends were here, and there were smiles all around.

She was greeted by an enthusiastic ‘hey’ and a warm smile, courtesy of the girl with the cozy red sweater. Red was her lifeline and our protagonist couldn’t help but smile back. Both of them just clicked, and made school easier for the other. As they recounted what had happened to them in the last period, Mia thought about how lucky she was to have her. How was she to know, that this same girl would be the one she’d start her process on very soon. And then the world would crash and burn, and she’d be surrounded by her demons once again.

As they say, hurt or be hurt. And she was always one for self preservation.

Wicked’s smile was ghastly. It was so utterly cruel and contemptuous, that it even surprised Wicked. It had been so long since Wicked had been able to smile so completely. It stretched its deformed arms,  making its cloak swish and the smokey wisps emanating from it spread. It clicked its fingers and watched with morbid fascination as a whirl of black power shot from it and turned the human girl’s heart darker.

Phase I was complete.

He felt the human girl’s fear. And it only made him snicker loudly. And as he left the bright computer screen open, his snickers were the only thing that could be heard in the distance.


He left the computer open. He left-

Help me.







The ball

Arms jerked upwards to protect his face as he felt his whole body flinch. Opening his tightly shut eyes he could not see the ball that only moments ago was hurtling towards him with a fierce velocity.

There were boos and a few hateful snickers. He just hung his head and tried to laugh it off, utterly and completely embarrassed. He tried not to look towards the tree, at the fandom girl, knowing she was watching. Maybe she missed it? Maybe.

The grass seemed almost a sickening green as he trudged onward, towards a tree parallel to hers. He tried very hard not to hear the jeers. “What a pansy.” Bob growled. Well you aren’t the brightest crayon in the box, either, are you bob? Not looking up, he found a spot below the tree and sat down, twisting and turning the knots in the grass. Why couldn’t he just be good?

Yeah. He wasn’t athletic but he wanted to be. And no, it wasn’t old fashioned for him to try to fit in, because at the end of the day, it was just too hard to live in a world that was so judgmental, even for a tumblr social warrior like him. At night he would promote individuality but during the bleak hours of day light he was just tired and like any battered boy, just wanted to fit in.

He heard her laugh and say something so quite like he would, and he felt the same urge he always felt whenever he thought of her. To know her. To be her friend.

She always knew exactly what he felt because he was sure, she, at some point, felt it too. It was funny how in reality they were such total strangers but at the same time had this oh so strong connection. Like two ships passing in the night, the dark waves their only companions.

The sun glared down hard on him, as if berating him for his stupidity, but he just couldn’t help it. Are amicable crushes even a thing? The term sounded so utterly idiotic and frivolous he almost wished he didn’t think it. But it was true. He wanted to know her. He wanted her to know him. And any sane person would just approach her and try to make conversation but that has never worked with them. Because he was socially awkward. And she was just as awkward as him.

Sighing he heard the bell ring, finally releasing him from his self-created misery. One hour. Every week. He didn’t know what would kill him first. Her, or that god forsaken ball.


The Hug

As the restaurant buzzed with conversation and good moods, the teenager voluntarily chose not to be part of the cheer. Clad in blue jeans and a simple olive green tee, he stood all brooding and tall. He was waiting. And he wasn’t much of a waiter. So this had to have been a special occasion.

His hand instinctively reached to run through his hair, more out of habit than will, as he patiently waited for her to arrive. She was late. The corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile. She was almost always late.

Two arms encircled his waist and before they could apply even the slightest of pressure, he was quick to turn and envelop her in arms of his own. She let out a loud squeak, something she would deny if asked about later on, and returned the hug with equal fervor.

From behind them, the squeaker’s friend looked at them, somewhat uncomfortable. She had heard a lot about the guy in the olive tee, and he was living up to her expectations.

As the three of them took residence at the corner table, the bright green of the chairs seemed to mock her. The girl tugged at her yellow pendant and addressed the issue that had been on her mind after witnessing the perspective changing hug.

It was incredible how ordinary her friend had seemed just moments ago. Her features weren’t striking, her body wasn’t drop dead gorgeous. She was pretty, yes. But there wasn’t anything extraordinary about her.

Now as she saw them looking into each others eyes, his hand holding a firm grip on his lover’s, she couldn’t help but notice how radiant and beautiful her friend really was. In a matter of seconds, she had become gorgeous. Everyone else in the room wanted to be her. It made no sense.

How could it? Love was an enigma. When you looked at someone through their lover’s eyes, you finally see all their perfections. The flaws, even if only for a moment, disappear. And you can never look at that person the same way again.



She felt suffocated.

She stared with dead eyes and spoke with detachment. Was it tediousness that caused her present plight or was it some form of unidentifiable depression? She didn’t know. She didn’t care.

Her legs moved her towards her next class when the thing she dreaded the most, happened. She ran into her. “Hi!” Her bubbly voice chirped. She all but hid a grimace. Giving a slight smile that exuded fallacy she turned to walk away. But of course Little Miss Sunshine followed.She always followed.

Stop. Leave. Don’t come near me. These thoughts swirled and took residence in her mind, overpowering every other thought that could possibly distract her.

She wanted to escape. She wanted to run. Anything but this.

Wicked smiled slightly as it felt it’s power grow. The girl was weak. Now was the time to initiate the plan. It’s grim face loosened, and it’s blackened gums could be seen as it let out a silent insane cackle. Soon. Very Soon.


 Girl in Gray

The bus engine roared to life as she took her seat, staring out of the window. She had been feeling weird lately. Disconnected. Tugging at her simple gold chain, she played with the frill of her tee. Clad in an elegant ensemble of grey leggings and a maroon shirt, that hugged her in all the right places, she felt empowered. She could feel the stares and hear the whispers. But she paid them no attention.

Only a few months ago, she could have been seen as a mixture of torn jeans, cigarette smoke and wild hair. Chunky rings would encircle her fingers and bold bands would blacken her wrists. She screamed rebellion. Her whole aura vibrated with energy. She was fearless and confident.

So how did she go from that to a graceful aristocrat? I would love to tell you that some romantic force had a part to play, but sadly that wasn’t the case. It was rage, not love.

Her friends scoffed at her for letting an all consuming relationship go. They all reiterated what he had sneered at her. “You’re not right” “You have no emotions” “You hide. You fear.”

The funny thing was, she knew he was toxic. She didn’t really care much for his opinion. She was never in love with him. She was in love with the idea of being in love. And when that illusion shattered, she felt nothing for him. So she let him go.

But her friends. Her so called friends. They looked at her as if she was nothing. Their words broke through her hard exterior. And the walls inside her head crumbled. She vowed to show them. She vowed to show them all.

Thus, a new girl was born. One who was regal, careful and elegant.

While she stared out of the window, this train of thought of the person sitting next to her, came to a standstill. Sure, every girl within a 5 mile radius envied her. Sure every guy looked at her and thought her to be gorgeous. But he’d rather have his vibrant, fierce and happy friend back than this empty shell of a person, whose every action was deliberate and graceful but ever so precarious.

She looked at him then, giving him a ghost of the smile she once possessed. He simply sighed, and returned it with a carefree grin of his own. Come back. Please, come back.