The writer sees on TV news that few students were beating a teacher. He goes down to the memory lane and remembers the teacher-student relationship when he was a student, a few decades ago.
Sukesh is a great storyteller. whenever power’s gone, we surround him and listens to his stories. One such night, we had a discussion about “The Taste of Alcohol”.
I grabbed the note and read it. It said that Mom was really sorry that she couldn’t take me to the fair and that she had plans for us tonight.
Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life. It is a waste to be asking the question when you are the answer.
Including my very short experience with girls thus far, I decided not to become too close to any girl for the matter. I guess I was frustrated. Not worth the effort I tell myself, even now…
There I was dangling from my neck, my life at the fingertips of a sadistic science teacher. My hands were fumbling at my neck, desperately trying to loosen the rope.
It is said that the most pure feeling in this world is hatred . In my case it is true except the fact that my hatred is not towards a person but an object in my wardrobe.
It was Mary’s birthday last week. I wanted to wish her a happy birthday. But she had gone to school before I knew it. She had a party that night.
Every morning he would come to market,spend his whole day with Kimmi and back to home. Everything was good but soon his happiness was brutally attacked by his mother .
They both started liking each other a lot and started becoming good friends, whilst Max was always admired their friendship.