Yash Soni

Sitting in the corner, anguished and despaired, I often blame and curse my life for turning me down. But when I listen to you, my whole perspective changes. That I'm crying for nothing and I'm responsible for my situation and not life. That life is not preplanned but my own creation. It is my story and I decide how it should be. You enlighten me in my bad times. You are the true meaning of life. You taught me to steal the moments to make use of the opportunity, to live the fullest. To gain something you have to lose something and when you do lose, you'll gain back too. That's what life is, to be successful you have to work hard, to maintain a relationship you sometimes have to back down. "Kuch paakar khona hai, kuch khokar paana hai Jeevan ka matlab toh aana aur jaana hai Do pal ke jeevan se ek umar churani hai Zindagi aur kuch bhi nahi teri meri kahani hai" In the generation of Taylor Swift's "Love story," I find you, "Pyar Ka Nagma",

"Room number 69?" I asked a half-asleep man at the reception. "Second floor," he mumbled. It was one of the shadiest lodges in town. I had my appointment at 12 AM. Satan's hour as my friend always calls it. 12:04 AM; I knocked on the door of room number 69. I gasped as the door clicked. I stepped inside and locked the door behind me. My friend had set me up with this person. I entered a dimly lit room. 6×4 cot on the left. A bathroom towards the far right. There was a window that faced the main road. TV was on low volume. 2:40 AM; I'm riding back home in an auto, writing my first draft of an experience. An experience that changed my life. Desperate times, desperate measures. From life changing moments to lessons for a lifetime. This was a night that changed my life, completely. 12:07 AM; She lay on her side, absolutely staring at me. She was beautiful! I sat on a chair at an arm’s length from the cot. "Nervous?" she asks. "This is my first tim

The rickshaw wala asked if he could onboard another passenger. Trampling on my hesitant approval, he came sat next to me. Cosied up on a cycle rickshaw as it peddled forward. I think there are no bigger signs for a feeling as ones when we are tentative – the fidgeting, the clamminess, the unpurposeful whistling, the show of looking the other way. – there’s just so much, given away so easily. And I am sure I did too. For I was excessively aware that I was sitting next to an eunuch but more so because of what he asked next. Darr lag rha hai? (Are you scared?) I nodded away – no – managing a nervous half-smile and a plastered silence. But our conversation escalated when he admitted his next sentence – hum bhi toh insaan he hain (We too are humans). I shot a glance at him, at his face. The 14-year old me didn’t know any better. But when I retrospect today, I wonder what would have hurt more – to have someone look at you with un-bargaining denial or with sympathetic acceptance