Liebster Award

Seriously! I mean seriously, this is great. I have been nominated for the Liebster Award.
A big thank to https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/67161760 for the nomination. I am surprised and so grateful! Please check our her blog which you’ll like, I assure you. Thank you!

 

 

Rules for the award: 

  1. Acknowledge the blogger who nominated you.
  2. Answer the 11 questions given by the blogger who nominated you.
  3. Nominate 11 other bloggers.
  4. Ask 11 new questions for them to answer.

My answers for GirlFriday questions:

 

  1. What is your favourite animal? Answer:  Dog
  2. Where in the world would you love to visit? Answer: Rome
  3. Sweet or savoury? Answer: Savoury
  4. What colour are your eyes? Answer: Black
  5. What is your greatest ambition? Answer: Becoming a writer.
  6. Who would play you in a film about your life? Answer: Sorry! Can’t tell. I don’t have any idea.
  7. If you could have a superpower, what would it be? Answer: A fast man alive 😉
  8. What is your starsign? Answer: Sagittarius
  9. Have you met your soulmate? Answer: No! Not yet.
  10. What did you want to be when you were growing up? Answer: A Singer
  11. What do you like the most about my blog? Answer: Everything:) everything in your blog.


My 11 nominees:

https://isitfridayyetweb.wordpress.com/

https://rheaswords.wordpress.com/

https://magicquill17.wordpress.com/

http://eventfullyangela.com/

http://kayleemarieblog.com/

https://writersretreatweb.wordpress.com/

https://dharajeshsampat.wordpress.com/

https://fabricatingfiction.wordpress.com/

https://wordscantfathom.wordpress.com/

https://simonjwood.wordpress.com/

https://gahlearner.wordpress.com/

Here are the 11 questions for my nominated blogs:

  1. What is your favorite book?
  2. Who is your favorite singer?
  3. Where in the world would you love to visit?
  4. When and where you born?
  5. Do you have a pet?
  6. What do you like about your blog?
  7. What did you want to be when you were growing up?
  8. Android or IOS?
  9. If you could go back in the time and you could change one thing, what would it be?
  10. Novel or Movie?
  11. What do you like the most about my blog?
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#5 An Invitation

  • Click here to read the previous parts.

It used to be so tedious, so boring for me to present at school – in my classroom, attending teachers’ lectures, doing homeworks and redoing the same schedule of my school life.  There used to be no buzz of excitement, no thrill to going school. Passing the time at the temple of knowledge used to be hard when there were no friends of mine. But, since I had seen her – the new girl – in my class, my school became the excited place I had ever visited. It’s like I had found water in the desert.

MY BAD LUCK! I GOT BAD HEADACHE YESTERDAY.

“I hate taking leave from school.” I rasped.

I was on my way to school when Raghav spoke up behind me. “Since when?!” he swung his hand around my shoulder. I looked at him and asked, “what?”

“Since when have you begun to hate it – taking-leave-from-school?” he narrowed his eyebrows. “I never realised you like going school!”

“Yeah. . . it’s kinda boring being at home.” I said.

We both continued towards our temple of knowledge.

I was sitting on the desk with my elbows placed on the desk and both hands supporting my chin and cheeks. My feet were resting on the rung.

GOSH! WHEN THIS BORING PERIOD GONNA END?!

I was imagining her green eyes covered with glasses and her face chuckling at me, just then a pen marker hit me. “Mr. Genius,” I sat straight on my desk and saw Mr. A.K. Sharma staring at me, obviously with anger, “I wonder there is hardly anything that you don’t know about, so you are not bothering yourself to focus on what I am teaching here?” he frowned.

“Can you please come and solve this problem on the board as you don’t need me to teach you?” he asked me to solve the equation, I mean – really!

F U C K !

A boy appeared at our class door as I picked the marker up and forwarded to the board. He informed Mr. A.K. Sharma that the principal needed to meet him immediately. The boy and Mr. A.K. Sharma left the class.

In recess, I was going through the hallway to fill up my empty water bottle. There was Raman walking opposite direction of mine. He was too busy in typing to remove his eyes over his phone. Whilst typing he was smiling widely. For a second, he looked at me and we passed smiles. When he crossed me he called me out from behind me, I stopped and swung around.

“Hey! I was ringing you yesterday, but your phone was going switched off.” He said.

“My phone is not working.”

“Well. . . How are you doing?” he asked.

“Same ole’ same ole’” I said. 

“Good news! It won’t be the same ole’ this Friday.” He was so worked up. “There is a party at my home on the occasion of my birthday and you are invited, you’ll have to come, buddy.”

“I will.” I said.

“Know what? I have invited our whole class.” His blue eyes and his face were bright with excitement.

“Wonder if you’ve invited the new students of our class also?” I enquired.

“I told you buddy, the whole class, all of ’em. I assure you it’ll be a real fun.” 

“Yeah. . .I guess, it will be a fun at your birthday night.”

“You too have to come, girl.” He said to someone behind me. I turned to see which girl he was asking to come and saw Raghav coming towards us.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

(Read The First Episode “#1 A NIGHTMARE” here ―» https://hiteshmk.wordpress.com/2017/05/08/a-nightmare/)

#4 The Wolverine

The Wolverine
  • Click here to read the previous parts.

This is my very first entry in a personal journal or you can say that I first time bought a journal and genuinely tried to start a journal. I am not about to write about myself in this entry but it will be about someone else. Someone whom I just got a glimpse but that glimpse is unforgettable and irresistible. I don’t know much about her not even her name…

    “Harish.” called mom. I closed my journal without completing the very first entry and put it in the drawer of my study table.

    “Your friend has come.”

    “Who…?”

    “I don’t know his name but he has hair like that of a girl. He looks more like a girl than a boy.” I had come downstairs before she finished her sentence. Raghav who had long hair, was standing at the door with a weird and plastic smile.

     I had forgotten that we had to work on our school project together and I had invited him at my home to do that project.

    “Mom, don’t be so specific. I got it. This is Raghav, my classmate.”

    “Hello!” greeted Raghav.

    “How come do you think, this is a good haircut?” she put a question instead of greeting him. Raghav looked at me nervously. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this generation!” she remarked.

    “Mom, if you’re done, can we go?” I interrupted her otherwise she wouldn’t stop easily.

    “Go, where?!” 

    “In my room. We have some work to do.”

    “Come.” I gestured Raghav with my hand for upstairs. He didn’t utter a word and followed me.

    “Pass the bottle.” Raghav asked me. We were sitting on my bed. I extended my hand towards my study table where the bottle was placed on. When I held the bottle, it slipped and hit a Wolverine toy off the table. I grabbed the bottle and gave it to him. “Thanks.”

    The lying Wolverine on the floor gave me a feeling of déjà vu. Some kind of shadow wandered in my mind. It was not getting clear and this thing was bothering me because whenever I felt that something happened because of some reasons or something happened and that felt like déjà vu, they used to increase a feeling of unease in me.

    “Hey!” he snapped his finger. The sound distracted me from the Wolverine.

    “Yeah… Is it empty? I’ll bring another one.” I rose a bit from my bed, when he shook his head. I sat down.

    “Where were you lost, bro?” he picked up the Wolverine and put it back on the table. “Why were you staring at it?”

    “Nah… nothing.”

    “Forget it. Well, has Raman invited you at his birthday party?” he asked me. Raman was my classmate. Probably, his father was a rich person that’s why he was the richest student in the class.

    “Why? Did he invite you?” I questioned him. He put the lid on the bottle.

    “Yeah, he invited me today at school and he asked me for your number as you weren’t present today. Didn’t he call you?” he was shaking his phone.

    “I don’t know whether he called me, because my phone is out of action.”

    “Oh!”

    I shutdown my laptop and put it aside on the bed. “I think, it is time for us to call it a day.” I said to Raghav.

    “Why? We haven’t done much of our work.”

    “I don’t feel like doing this and you don’t need to worry about this project as we have to submit it on Monday and it is Tuesday today. We have enough time to finish this task.”

    “OK, Fine.” he got out of the bed, so did I. He folded the notebook and gave that to me. I put it on my table and again accidentally I hit the Wolverine off the table on the floor. And again I zeroed in on the Wolverine.

    TO BE CONTINUED. . .

    • CLICK HERE TO READ THE NEXT PART (PART #5)

    Running out of words

    I have been trying my damnedest to write down my thoughts for I am unable to do it because I am running out of words. The situation has become too difficult to do anything else. I only want to write something but words are playing with me, they are confusing me. Whenever, I place my fingers on my keyboard but they don’t work, they just rest on A, S, D, F, J, K, L and (;). I think, I should take a blank paper to write maybe I’d write something. No, no way, everything is going nowhere. As I put my pen on the paper, my mind gets blank as the blank paper. I know I need to write, I want to do it actually. But I literally can’t.

    Click HERE to Read A Fictional Story Series

    #3 The New Girl

    • CLICK HERE TO READ (PART #1)
    • CLICK HERE TO READ (PART #2)


      “May I come in, Sir?” I stepped back and stood there.

      ONE YEAR AGO

      “Come, come on in…” said my math teacher, Mr. A.K Sharma, in a sarcastic way, “this is not a school. No, not at all, who call it by this name. This is a Hotel. You can check in or check out anytime you want.” The whole class sniggered at me. My eyes scanned all those laughing at me and were fixed at a girl who was wearing glasses. An oval shaped face girl with round glasses was chuckling at me but stopped when she saw me watching her. Her dark brown ponytail had left some strands of her hair over her green eye. She put them behind her ear and turned her face to the notebook. I had never seen her in my class, school or anywhere else till now. I found myself gazing at her. I couldn’t help it.

      “Harish…” I almost forgot that before my very eyes was standing the teacher.

      “Where are your eyes?” asked teacher sternly, “look straight.” angry.

      “Sir…”

      “Dont call me Sir. You are my guest, I am your host. I should call you Sir.”

      “I am sorry, Sir,” I apologized, staring the floor, “I will not do it again.”

      “Do what?”

      “I’ll not be late again, Sir.”

      He glared at me, didn’t say a word for a while then came to me with glowering eyes. I was really scared because he was a new teacher in the school and I had no idea how he would react.

      He will punish me not allowing me in or he will forgive me? I think, I’m going to be dead.

      His furious face turned into a calm one when he said to me, “This is your first and last warning. I will not allow you next time. Go and take your seat.”

      Ahhh…

      I entered the class and looked for vacant seats. There were three empty seats on the second, third and fourth benches in  the first, second and fourth rows respectively. I lolled on the bench in the fourth row, adjacent to the bench on which the new girl was sitting bolt upright. As I sat on my seat, she looked at me and grinned. I smiled.

      After the maths period ended, the teacher left the room. The classroom was filled with noises — really deafening noises.

      “You should have looked at your face when he was scolding you.” said Raghav, my friend, the only boy in our class who had long hair and long sideburns. “I will not do it again.” He imitated me.

      “You should look at you face when Ananya talks to you.” Ananya was Raghav’s crush.

      I was looking for the new girl. She had left the room after the teacher. I walked and stood at the door of the room searching for her but my sight was unable to spot her. Perhaps she was not there or my eyes required the spectacles like hers.

      “What are you doing at the door?” asked a passing teacher.

      “Looking for something.” I replied.

      “Something, what?”

      “Nothing.” And I went into my classroom.

      TO BE CONTINUED. . .

      • CLICK HERE TO READ (PART #4)

      #2 May I come in?

      • CLICK HERE TO READ (PART #1)

      (‘A Nightmare’ continues)

      “Nightmare?” she asked. “Yup, more or less,” I answered.

      “Oh son…! Well, come downstairs, breakfast is ready,” she plodded to the door. “Hurry up!” said she when she was about to close the door. “Okey mom, coming.” I said, sitting up on my bed.

      She went downstairs to the kitchen and started doing the dishes. Something broke there (maybe a glass), so mom got angry and started speaking to herself but loud enough to be heard, “here it goes. Don’t I have enough work to do that I got this too?” She continued, “look at my lazy boys, I have done all of my work and they haven’t got up yet.” “Hari… Hariii…” she was angry. “Coming, mom.” I got out of my bed. “What is Sumit doing? Is he still sleeping? Wake your brother up.” She huffed.

      I left my room and went to my younger brother’s. “Sumit… Sumit… Sumit…” I knocked trice just like Sheldon Cooper does at the door of Penny (no one knows her maiden name) in the ‘The Big Bang Theory’, a TV series.

      He came and opened the door. His eyebrows were furrowed with angry face, “what, Sheldon? I was having a good dream and you woke me up.” “Oh, Mr. Dreamer, mom asked me to wake you up. She is so angry today. Go downstairs quickly. Let her know that you are awake,” I warned him, “do you know what time it is?” As I asked him, I glanced at my watch. It was 7:16.

      Shoot! I’m going to be late.

      I furrowed my eyebrows and opened my mouth little like ‘owww’ in panic.

      “What happend?” asked he while reading my face. “Shoot! I am going to be late.” I said what I was thinking then. “For your school?” asked he. “Yes.” I said. “Tell me, when do you reach at school on time?” He frowned at me. “Who knows?” I shrugged.

      “Date? What is the date today?” I asked with a panicky voice. Sumit picked up a newspaper from his table and read, “May 15, 2017.” “Thank god,” I relaxed, “my math’s teacher asked us to come at seven thirty at school on 16th May. That’s why, I thought I was late.” Usually, I would go to school at eight. “Don’t be calm. This is not today’s newspaper.” He said with mischievous face. “Obviously, how it could be? You have just woken up. How on earth the newspaper could be in your room? Even I  shouldn’t have asked you.”

      I turned to downstairs and shoved my hand into my jeans’ pocket and pulled out my phone to confirm the date. It said “16 May, 2017.” I put it back in my pocket and rushed through downstairs. “I am going to be late. My math’s teacher won’t spare me.” I muttered. While running down, I hit accidentally the vase placed on the stool beside the end of stairs. It was wobbling and i got scared that it would fall down but it didn’t. I sighed.

      I got ready and had breakfast as fast as I could. But it didn’t prove to be worthy for me as it took me ten minutes to present at school. “Hari, buy some groceries.” Mom asked me. “Mom, I’d better scoot. I am late for my school. Ask Sumit for it.” I set out for school.

      After ten minutes, I reached the entrance of the school. The board of the school read: New Era Public School.

      I entered. Passing through the hallway, I found my class, XII A. My math’s teacher was solving some of the problems on the blackboard. I tried to enter the classroom without letting him know, but he saw me when I took my step into the classroom. “May I come in, Sir?” I stepped back and stood there.

      TO BE CONTINUED. . .

      • CLICK HERE TO READ (PART #3)         

      #1 A NIGHTMARE

      There was darkness everywhere in the room still I could see the figures of two boys lying motionless. Dead! They both were shot right in their head. I startled back then evaluated their faces drenched with blood. 

      Suddenly, I heard a scream of a boy from somewhere. The voice sounded familiar to me. I turned to see.

      There was a boy knelt with folding hands, in ripped and dirty clothes. He was shot in his right shoulder. He was bleeding. His dark brown hair was all messed. His bluish eyes filled with tears. I could see terror in his eyes. I knew him. He was Raman, my classmate and to be more precised, the boy who was in the relationship with Kritika, the girl I loved. I had killed him so many times and in so many different ways in my thoughts.

      “Don’t kill me. Please,” he begged, looking at me.

      Why was he staring at me in fear? Then, I felt something in my hand. Something, that was not supposed to be in my hand. The feeling was sinister. Before I could see what it was, my hand started trembling. I looked down scared and saw my hand grabbing a gun. I realized, I had killed the two boys. I felt like killing him. Now, I wanted to kill him too. I pointed the gun at him.

      “You don’t deserve to be hers, Raman,” I shouted. “I loved her and you stole her from me.” kept on pointing the gun at him. “You don’t deserve to live too.” His eyes dilated with fear. I put my finger on the trigger and an ominous sound spread all around the dark room.

      It wasn’t him who was shot but me. The person, who committed that crime instead of letting me do it, was standing behind me. I turned to find out and saw a feminine figure, holding and pointing a gun at me. It took me a while to clear my vision then I saw Kritika standing there.

      “How many times do I have to tell you? I love Raman not you. You asshole!” she said, “you can’t kill him because I’m gonna kill you right now.”

      “Don’t be ma…” I was going to say ‘mad’ when she shot me and everything went dark.

      “Hariiiisssh…”

      I was dying there. I saw my mom coming to me.

      “Hari, don’t go, don’t go, son” she was crying, “everything gonna be alright. You are fine. Nothing has happened to you.” Something wet dropped onto my eyes. “Wake up, Hari, wake up.”

      And suddenly her crying turned into shouting as if I was not dying but I flunked in a English test.

      “Wake up, Hari,” she yelled “how long you gonna sleep?” She sprinkled some water on my face, which helped me to open my dozy eyes. I woke up scared.

      “Nightmare?” she asked. “Yup, more or less,” I answered.

      TO BE CONTINUED. . .

      • CLICK HERE TO READ (Part #2)