#mga writes

Roonie showed me around her classrooms block, the Laboratories she had to spend hours in and her lunch eating spot. Then, finally, we reached the fest venue, and the auditorium filled with people and they burst out like rain clattering on an empty shed. She excused herself and left to meet her friends. I sat there watching the performances and some random speeches, which I am uninterested in. It was fun but felt irrelevant. I waited desperately for her to return. She came back and brought her friends along, she introduced me to everyone, and she is a charm in making people comfortable around her. She boosted me to her friends, which is overwhelming. I mean, who wouldn’t. We moved to the food section and started to have a random conversation with her friends, honestly, though I felt secluded, topics of interest, you know. “Hey you have put on some weight, and this look didn’t match you much”, one of her friends commented on her. How dare he talk to my girl like that? I would have strai...

It's been three months since we were known as friends, we exchanged our interests and followed each other on socials. They say there is nothing such as static; likewise, she doesn’t seem like a person I could put in my logical bubble of mine. Instead, her soul is a universe of understanding. In our ever-connected world, we often feel isolated, but chatting with her makes my day. Honestly, switching chats between IG and WhatsApp with her is a multiverse way of communicating. The former goes with memes and the latter with stickers. And I must admit, She is damn good at stickers games and made me feel like I'm already old for WhatsApp too. I already ousted myself from using snap, and of course, Tinder too. It is like alien tech used for extraterrestrial communication. That’s what I feel, at least. I usually turn off the notifications for apps but setting a custom ringtone for her chat made me a teenager all over again. I'm sure developers of Android will go haywire if they see...

On our way back to the hospital, the road felt empty with a cool breeze. Vizag roads are exceptional; most of them are filled with uphill and downhill, and it is crazy to think how humans and machines are weirdly similar. Both struggle on the ascent and slide on the descent, but we all cherish moving forward. Roonie said something, turning her head back, but I could only half hear what she said. Her voice was clouded by the wind. So I signalled that I wasn’t able to listen to her. She halted the bike and turned back, and said, “I wanted to shout loud now”. “Are you sure” “Yeah, crystal” “Okay, but please don’t shout ‘help’, else I will be lynched if someone misinterpreted it”. “Haha, don’t worry”. She laid her foot on the ground and stood straight, and shouted her lungs out. The empty road and the surrounding hills reverbed like they were vibing along with this beauty. The third time she did that, we heard a whistle by the security guard, probably startled from his dizzy sleep. We look...

When it's Sunday, I slip back into my book's fictional world; I like to read all day. An excerpt from my current read says.      "Sure. For the majority of people, what they love exists only in the imagination. The object of their love is not the man or woman of reality, but what he or she is like in their imagination. The person, in reality, is just a template used for the creation of this dream lover.      Eventually, they find out the differences between their dream lover and the template. If they can get used to those differences, then they can be together. If not, they split up. It's as simple as that.” That made me slip into thoughts of the fictional woman I met in real life at the dance class. What are you doing right now, Ms.doctor? I wondered in my thoughts. "Bro, I need you to take me to the hospital right now. The kidney stone pain is getting severe", my roommate interrupted, seemingly he was in distress and pain. We immediately reached the hospi...

Finding time for your hobbies between the work schedule is like packing that one extra shirt on your travel suitcase. I know it's a bad analogy, but everyone has “been there, done that”, so you get my point, right? I ride a bicycle to my dance class, hoping to reduce the carbon footprint or simply put, I am not ready to drain my salary on fuel. I feel like I'm riding a superbike. That’s what a child watching from a school bus crossing by makes me feel like, I take relentless joy in his envious looks. My master is strict about the timings, but I shyly had to excuse myself for showing up late every day. Every dance class has this colossal mirror, only to embarrass how to suck you at the dance. Of course, that's how you learn it. Everyone started to dance at Rhythm in the warm-up. But wait a minute, I see some chaos here. Who is this new woman, I wondered. Maybe she is a new member. How did I not notice her? Perhaps she might have joined while I was away for a week. Of course...