Yash Soni

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

Tujhse Naraaz Nahi Zindagi is a landmine of life’s wisdom. Despite being tapped into countless number of times, it still has more to offer.  Its layered texture is without the overbearing appendages of pretence. No wonder it is wielded by the pen of Gulzar Saab, one of country’s most aware and prominent literary voices. In its own right this summons life to a center table. And then submits to it. Ensues an engaging conversation that I’ve never had the courage to move away from. For it has often felt a bit too personal when pain is made to sound like a due to be paid. In lieu of life’s grand moments. But isn’t that true? Even without the poetic justice. Come to think of it, don’t we always carry the pain like a tagged baggage? How terribly independent though are our joys, squared up only by infrequent bouts of nostalgia. Barely anybody has spoken about adversity with such poignancy. Life’s hard questions are not innocent whims but Gulzar Saab, a stellar wordsmith, romanticizes pain with

Walks up to the stage, the audience clap. Picks up the mic and starts my set, "Why do we fall?" A loud cheer from the audience. I smiled at them, "I would like to share my story with you. We'll get back to comedy after this, okay? So, a few years back I was sitting in my room, all time books in front of me. I had board exam the next day. I had a breakup the last night. I was shattered. I knew, I was going to fail the exam. I cursed myself for everything. I was at my all-time low." "Some of you might be judging me already, but trust me guys, I was so stupid back then. There was just one question in my mind; Why do we fall? Why do we fall when we know that it's a trap? My grades fell very badly too; I was an above average student until this." "I was a 17-year-old, confused teenager. While all my friends were busy studying, I was trying to figure out life. I wrote the exam next day. Fortunately, I did not fail. I later realized life is simple. We

When I had completed my diploma, my parents made me join a degree college though I was bad in academics. They believed coaching would help improve my grades. The first week of the 6th Semester, my gaze turned towards this girl, and I continued to look at her for a while before I introduced myself to the teacher. Being from an all-boys school, this Engineering college was like a cheat code. But because I was from an all-boys school, I didn't know how to talk to a girl. The guys from class talking to them so effortless, and I was just brainstorming conversation starters in my head. One day, I was the first to solve the problem. That kinda grabbed everyone's attention, and I sat there giving awkward smiles. She smiled at me too, and man, that smile! I was daydreaming about going on brunches with her. Two months passed by and we hadn't spoken anything other than subjects, college, and teachers. It was our mutual friend's birthday, and we all bunked class and went to McDonal

"I've got a long day ahead," he sighed. He checked her last seen. It hadn't changed since yesterday. "Argh!" He sat upright in his bed, pulled his not so long hair and buried his face in the pillow. It was going to be a long, dark, night. Her phone was not reachable; her best friends were not her best friends anymore. Her parents stopped answering his calls long ago. He panicked, he prayed, he hoped that she was safe. His heart beat rhymed with the only other sound, his ticking bed side alarm, set at 5:00 AM. Staring into the void of the night with sudden flashes of her blurry images, he sat in silence. 3:47 AM; His phone screen flashes with her name. Grabs it immediately, "Hello?" "Hello, I'm sorry! Please let me explain..." "Are you okay?" he asked, curiously. "No no, I am totally fine. My phone just died & I couldn't find a charger. I crashed at a colleague's place and left my phone there; I'm sorry..

What do you do when your best friend is crying? There are a few persons whom you never wish to see with tears in their eyes. I attended college as usual. It was a regular Saturday afternoon; the cultural activities were in full swing. More deafening cheers accompanied loud music from the auditorium. I kept calling her from half an hour; she did not answer. She was nowhere to be seen too. I inquired few of our mutual friends if they had seen her around. "She is always with you," said one. "Heard you guys fought," giggled another. "What rubbish ya! They're best friends, they wouldn't have fought," argued a third. I smiled and left the place, still searching. There she was sitting in a corner, engaged busily on her phone. This pissed me off. I walked up to her and said, "Answer your phone." She looked up; her eyes were teary and red. "You crying?" I asked in disbelief. "No," she said. Her voice was thick. "Is it beca

"Look at your nails!" she complained. "How the fuck am I supposed to eat Biryani with a spoon?" I expressed my displeasure. "Stop yelling at me," she demanded. We ate in silence and stood up to leave. She wrapped her arm around mine. I twitched. I pulled my hand away. "You hardly spend time with me these days, and now you're pissed off because I whined about your curry filled nails?" she grumbled. (When I first took up this job, I wondered what it felt like to go on dates during the day. Not that I've never been on dates during the day but getting off the night shift at 5 am on a Saturday morning and being date-ready wasn't my thing.) "I am busy with work on most days, be happy I am at least doing this," I yawned. "I am concerned about your health. You can easily find better jobs," she suggested. I didn't reply. I bought two tickets to Bandra and found a place to sit on the ever-bustling Andheri station. (We us