Tag: Fiction

Lesson to Be

When the new girl joined their class, the sixth graders had all gawked at her. She was at least five inches shorter than the shortest kid in their class.

She wore round glasses and had leather-bound books. She had to sit in the first row because she couldn’t see the teacher from anywhere else. From the first day, she knew she’d find no friends in her classmates. They teased her all the time, hid her books at a height she couldn’t reach and, snatched her specs away in jest. It was torture for her and amusing for them.

If her height was one reason, her name was another to make fun of her. She was called Hermia.

They would learn their lesson the following year in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Hermia

I Wrote a Novel

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder. What would it be to be a published author? I’ve wondered that since I was 13, and now, I have a chance.

Inkitt.com is running a contest, and they call it Story Peak Novel Contest. I’m in. And so is my novel, Praveena.

I posted one chapter of it a day last November during the National Blog Posting Month. Whether you read it then or not, you can now.

And if you do like it, please consider reserving a copy. The best three novels that get 100 readers or more will have a chance to get published. It’s a small ray of hope I’m clinging to.

I’m counting on everyone of you reading this now to help me get there. I’d appreciate it a lot.

Read it here: My novel on Inkitt.

Again, if you think it’s good, please reserve a copy for yourself (and tell everyone you know to reserve their copy, too).

Talk About Health

They say it’s unhealthy
if you eat too healthy
but what am I to do
when everything I do
makes me fat as a cat
stuffed inside a hat
but what am I to do
there’s so much ado
apples, pears are body shapes
kale and fads, women of shams
it’s all just a scam
all I want is some ham
to stuff in my fancy bread
that’s all grain, oat, and dread
Oh, what’s the point of dieting
If it’s about hiding your craving?

Drama Queen

Some say the world will end in fire
some say in ice
some call him a poet,
some call him lunatic
consulting he thinks he does
pissing people off as he goes
he’d seem so stern
and make you yearn
he’d tread smooth as shadow
but looks more like a strut
he’s a bot, a robot, a heartless wretch
just give him his violin to shut him up
he’d pull his collar up sans reason
show off his scarf whatever season
stands straight the slender snowman
scoffs at the opinions of other men
he’d play with criminal minds
break hearts as the game goes
The friend calls him drama queen
it’s Sherlock, obviously, he’s mean.

One Night

She looked up.

Darkness surrounded her. She sat up in silence.

She remained observing, as cold breeze kissed her cheeks.

The white drapes swayed, revealing the midnight full moon.

Her room door stood ajar, so she had to squint to clear her vision.

A couple stood under the light. Talking of innocent things, unknowing.

She stepped down as light as air. her bed creaked, nevertheless.

Her long, loose hair flew about her shoulders.

And she didn’t push it off her face.

She emerged from the darkness.

“Boo!” Her parents startled.