My Short Stories

"Roshan, kanji is ready. Have it before it goes cold." shouted mother from the kitchen. Roshan had already drifted off to sleep by then. It was the second night in a row that he was going without dinner. Right now he was playing for the  Barcelona Youth team, and in the stands, cheering for him was his idol -Messi. Of course it was a dream. But these dreams were the force that helped young Roshan face the harsh realities of life. Roshan was a 15-year-old boy. Gifted in the beautiful game of football, he was called the "Messi of Spartanz". Spartanz, with a Z, was the local sports club that he played as one of the forwards. Roshan's goal against Vikings in the final match, where he sent a ball flying past 3 defenders and the goalie had earned him this sobriquet. The next morning, as his mother woke him up, he told her, "Mom, I saw that Messi was cheering for me." Mother just smiled at the little boy, and fake punched his nose, saying "Messi won'...

"Bye man! Take care, will surely miss you. Cannot believe that our partnership has ended", Said Vishal to Tarun. Tarun, Vishal, Abhilash, and Gurinder had studied together from KG to the tenth standard. Also, Tarun and Vishal were the opening batsmen for their school. Now Tarun was leaving to Kerala to stay with his grandparents. He had joined a school there. It would be a long time before they could meet again. Farewells are difficult, more so when you have a decade or more of memories. "There cannot be a worse friend than you" said the bespectacled Abhilash. Slightly short, with a curly mop of hair, he was the topper of the batch and the resource person for all things related to studies. Vishal and Tarun relied on him to cover the notes while they were busy notching up runs in the inter-school cricket tournaments. Gurinder was a third-generation artist. His family had their art gallery in the city, with a studio that doubled up as the friends' hang out plac...

Whack! With a beautiful swing of his cricket bat, Abhilash sent the ball high into the air. It was just the second week of the summer holidays, something that 11-year-old Abhilash looked forward to the entire year. Endless cricket with his friends during the day, and ripe, juicy mangoes-cut into small square pieces that his mother used to serve after dinner. "Nice shot, Abhi". That was Tarun, currently at the non-striker's end and also doubling up as the umpire in this version of street cricket. With a hint of arrogance in his gait, Abhilash walked along the pitch, examining the surface for cracks, and hitting it gently with his bat. He was imitating Sachin Tendulkar, his idol. Kevin ran in to bowl the next one to Abhilash. It was pitched slightly short of length and Abhilash stepped out to hit it out of the park. The ball landed inside a house on the first floor inside their apartment complex, barely missing the window pane. "Oh boy! Now what, Abhilash. You...

" Did you check your NEET rank?" Dr. Vasanth asked Dr. Jayan, as he walked towards his college junior who was standing near the small tea shop right across the hospital. Ever since medical school, they shared a good rapport, even though Vasanth was a year senior to Jayan. Inhaling a puff from his cigarette, Dr. Jayan was thoughtful. "Not yet", he said throwing out a ball of hazy grey smoke from his nose and mouth, "Was caught up in the ICU. " Dr. Vasanth has also appeared for the exam. He opened his mobile and showed his junior. "I got 7856. I hope I get Pediatrics. DNB I think I will surely get." Nodding, Dr. Jayan said, "See you tomorrow. I am off duty now." Dr. Vasanth still had 6 more hours for his shift to complete.Walking back to his cabin, he checked his messages. His college WhatsApp group was teaming with messaging, mostly congratulatory, for the people who cleared NEET. "Dr., an emergency case has come", said Suja...