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Later Never Came

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  My grandmother turned 79, and I remember quietly telling myself that we would celebrate her 80th birthday in a grand way. Eighty felt special—eight decades of life, memories, struggles, and love. That milestone deserved something big, I thought. But my father didn’t wait. He brought a cake, and our family gathered around her that day. There was nothing extravagant—just familiar faces, soft laughter, and a woman who looked deeply happy in that moment. When she smiled, it felt like time had slowed down. It was one of those ordinary moments that you don’t realize is extraordinary until much later. Two months later, she was gone. That was when it hit me: that celebration had been her last birthday. Not the grand 80th I had imagined, but a simple 79th—made meaningful only because we chose not to postpone it. Even today, when I think about it, I feel relieved that we celebrated. If we hadn’t, the memory might have been replaced by regret—the kind that stays with you forever. Life ...
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Honeymoon@70

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   During my final year of college, our department organized a trip to Agra and New Delhi. There was a quiet excitement in the air—college life was coming to an end in just two months, and all of us wanted to hold on to memories that would last beyond classrooms and examinations. We boarded the Tamil Nadu Express to Agra, and my two friends and I were seated near an elderly couple, perhaps in their seventies. From the very beginning, they seemed genuinely delighted to meet us. They asked us questions about our studies, our hometowns, and our plans after college. We answered with ease, happy to engage in conversation. They told us they were from the Pudukkottai district of Tamil Nadu and were traveling to Agra. The journey was long—two and a half days—and my friends passed the time in their own ways. On the second day, as I sat talking with the couple, the elderly man slowly began to share his life story. He told me that theirs was a love marriage. For years, his wife had dr...
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Cold Chemistry

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If my college life were a chemical equation, it would look something like this: boring lectures + confusing practicals + zero love life = a painfully average existence. That was me — Nirmal. Chemistry department, first year, specializing in nothing except avoiding viva questions. And then one random Tuesday morning, my life decided to conduct an unexpected reaction. Her name was Elza. She walked into our common language class like she owned the place — English department girl, that confident posture people in my department couldn’t even fake.  I noticed her the moment she sat two rows ahead. Noticed — as in, completely forgot what the teacher was saying, forgot my notebook, forgot that I existed. She was laughing softly at something her friend said, and in that one moment, my brain, which was supposed to handle complex reactions, turned into NaCl. Plain, useless salt. It’s funny how one person can ruin your entire academic focus with just one smile. I was from Chemistry; she was f...
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The Art of Presence

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  It had been a long time since our family had taken a break together. We went on a one-day trip to Varkala to celebrate my parents' 25th wedding anniversary. It was a small celebration, but one filled with love, laughter, and lots of memories. The next day I woke up early and went for a walk on the beach around 6 AM. It was quiet. Very few people were around. The sea was calm. The sound of the waves was the only thing I could hear. In front of me was the vast Arabian Sea, and behind me stood the tall and beautiful Varkala Cliff. I felt peace. Rarely do Indian beaches offer this kind of calm. Usually, they're bursting with people, selfies, music, and chaos. But this morning was different. It felt like the world had paused—for me, for this moment. I stood there facing the vast Arabian Sea and mentally traced a line across the ocean. “If I travel 4000 kilometres straight from here,” I thought, “I’d land in Somalia.” Funny how small and connected the world can seem when you...
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The Great Veg Kuruma Mishap

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  Hostel food sucks. It’s one of those universal truths of student life. Some days, you tolerate it. Other days, your soul demands justice. That day was one of those days. The food was so bad, even my survival instincts rebelled. There was only one solution—eating outside. So, I did what any good friend would do—I dragged my best buddies, Thakur Bhai, Navaneeth, and Mhathung, out for a food mission. Now, before I dive into the actual incident, let me introduce the main character of this story—Shrikant Thakur, aka Thakur Bhai, the undisputed pride of Uttar Pradesh. But to understand why this guy is legendary, we need to rewind a bit. The Covid Chronicles: How It All Began Our first year of college was nothing short of a disaster. Thanks to Covid-19, we were stuck in online classes, pretending to listen while secretly watching Netflix. Among the many courses we had, there was this one Foundational Course —basically, a glorified Moral Science class. The professor? Mr. Devasahayam,...
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Echoes of Greed

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 In the beginning, the world was whole. The rivers flowed freely, carving paths through valleys where life blossomed in vibrant hues. Forests whispered ancient songs, their roots cradling the earth in quiet harmony. The winds, gentle yet fierce, carried the scent of rain and the laughter of creatures born from the soil. Each being played its part—balanced, connected, belonging. Man, too, was born of the earth, moulded from the same clay, breathing the same air. In those early days, he listened to the pulse of nature, drinking from its wisdom. He took only what was needed—nothing more, nothing less. The earth gave freely, for man honoured its gifts. But as the seasons turned, something stirred within him—an ache, a hollow space he could not name. It began as a whisper, a quiet hunger to have more, to know more, to be more. Gratitude blurred into longing. Respect twisted into desire. And so, man grew restless. One evening, as the sun bled into the horizon, the man sat by the edge of ...
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Aloo Parata

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  College life is like a buffet: you don’t get to choose everything, but you still pile your plate high with chaos, excitement, and the occasional disaster. My second-year Allied Optional course was one of those surprise items on the menu – “Autobiography and Travelogue,” courtesy of the English department and our effervescent professor, Dr. Supriya. Supriya Ma’am had this magical ability to turn mundane assignments into something exciting. Vlogs? Done one on Mahabalipuram. Reels? We nailed it (did a reel on Higginbotham). Food exhibitions? Ah, that’s where this story begins. Picture this: students from History, Economics, French crammed into one eclectic class. The second CIA exams were around the corner, and Ma’am decided to stir things up with a group assignment: a Food Exhibition. The rules? Unique cuisine. Showcase culture. And the killer clause: no Tamil Nadu cuisine. My gang, the misfit squad of Ajith, Nithish, Gokul, Sanjay, Edwin, Louis, and I, huddled together for our bra...
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