Prapti Kakati

                                                        It had been very hectic the past couple of days – classes, assignments and internships circling over my head like vultures, ready to devour my corpse the moment I lay dead from the stress. I got out of the house at 8 in the morning and sat through what seemed like a seemingly endless train of classes. To top that, I realized I had to go deal with a bunch of 11-year olds soon after, and I just wanted to drop dead at that point. Salvation is a hoax. At least the one that is promised in this life. I had prayed to the God I don’t believe in, “make the kids behave today, please?” Of course, he didn’t listen. But it’s just the 6574 th time this has happened, and I am sure my day is approaching (along with a few bottles of wine as a reward for my patience). I mean he has to ...

ROUTINES "Agla station, Vishwavidyalaya." I hate routines. I actively detest going to the same places or working on the same things.   But life places you in weird situations sometimes. Its been seven months now, going to the same place of work, teaching the same kids. It has become a routine, but strangely, I haven’t started hating this one. I actually like it. Although I hate admitting this, my conscience knows I’m right, and I can’t do anything about it. So, here it goes. I walk the same street to the metro station from college. The street has always been familiar, with a picturesque pavement, lined with trees. I enter the metro station through the same gate, climb down the same flights of stairs. I wait for the terminating train, and get merged into the crowd, pushing, pulling and struggling to get a seat. I always do get the seat, though. I am smart enough (these are my little ways of countering my inferiority complex and my intense self-loathing). I put on ...