The Stranger

There was only a few in the bus. It was quite, the only sound was that of the engine, and unknown snores.

Why do you keep doing this to me ?”, her voice trembled. She was talking over the phone, but caught my attention.
I hate you. Please don’t talk to me… ever…. Don’t…. don’t do that… don’t patronize. Shut up…”, and broke into a cry.
It was loud enough, to take notice, a few looked at her. But didn’t bother to ask.
Maybe because she is a stranger, but she is a human.
Omg ! these morons, their responses enraged me.
She is stranger to me too, but she is a human being, just as i am.
I got up from my seat and walked upto her.
You okay ?”
She gasped and nodded yes, and started moaning again.
I sat next to her.
Who are you ?”, she asked, wiping tears with her hands.
I’m nobody”. I offered her a tissue paper.
Thank you”, she said, and carefully wiped tears off her eyes, without spoiling her mascara.
No mention please. Be strong miss. I have 99 problems, but look at me, i never let people know that i’m having a problem. Do you know ? My girlfriend is diagnosed with cancer. My apartment bill are on 6 months due. I was recently fired from my job. But look at me ? Do i look like a emotionally tired, debted jobless person ? I conceal it, what good will it do, if i show it in my face ?”
She was flummoxed. I found it satisfying.
Tell me sweetheart, what is your problem ?”. I lightly kept my hand on her shoulders.
My… brother… just… called…me… and… disclosed… the… spoiler of my favourite series.”


Have you ever ordered something over Amazon with much anticipation, enticed by the reference image ?

And when it reached your hand,

you end up depressed,

because it’s not what they pictured it to be,

because it’s not how you pictured yourself in it.

So is the potrayal of sex

in commercial porn, my friend.

(Sex education: Zeroth chapter)

– Akhil Sreedhar | © Quill revolution


He was lying on the floor climaxing his masterpiece, resting his chest on the shiny tiled floor, moving his legs back and froth. The floor looked messy with disheveledly dropped crumbled papers and crayons.
“Ayushhh”, called out an incited feminine voice from behind.
She then frantically stacked the green and pink crayons back to crayon box.
“Ayush ! Sky is not green. It’s blue. Plants are not pink. They’re green. How many times do i have to tell this to you”
“Atleast not in this paper, mumma”, he said innocently.

Akhil Sreedhar | © Quill revolution

Image source : pinterest