WORD SALAD

  #1 SECOND SIGHT The pressure was high. The stakes were high. Always were and always would be. He had to become a doctor and take over his father's practice. His father was a well-known ophthalmologist, whose shoes he'd never fill but just had to. He spent days struggling with his books. He tried so hard but none of it made any sense. He wanted to hear that he made his father proud just once. Even if he didn't hear it, just to see one approving look in his father's eyes. He spent early mornings and late nights forcing himself to study. The day would come. Exam week was terrible. He felt blank despite all that work. Suddenly it felt like he knew nothing. He could only hope he did well.  His friends were chilling after the exams but he was still stressed. What if he failed? What if he wasn't good enough? By the time the results came, he was a nervous wreck. One look, and he felt like all his hard work was a waste.  He didn't perform as well as he should have. His

  This marks the completion of 100 stories, if you can call them that. As with rainbow this is an experiment too, not sure how well it works but do tell me what you think about it. #87 His son had gifted him a camera and one of those expensive notebooks. He had just retired and finally could sit down next to his new typewriter — which was a pain to find, but it was a lovely experience using one. He wanted to finally sit down and start writing. He spent hours trying to come up with a plot but could find none. Frustrated he decided to leave for the beach. He would photograph everything from morning to night and maybe, something would stir his interest. He was there at 4.30 am the next morning — the beach was almost empty, but people were walking in, assembling for the sunrise. He was nervous, maybe he should go home. He saw the expensive camera in his hands. He was too far in to back out now. #88 6.10 am He had watched the sun rise. The sun could have been setting, it wouldn’t have matte

  #82 One Day Her fingers trembled as she picked up the pen to strike off the last item on her list. She had spent a majority of her life making lists. Ticking items off them had made her happy. This wasn’t one such day. She didn’t know what to do next. She had been told she had 6 months to live. She had chosen not to try to prolong her misery. She wanted to go in one piece. That’s what she told herself everyday. Her list had grown over the years — there was never enough time, money or something else. It was always to be done “One day” — till the one day was every day.She finally understood —  one day at a time . For days seemed to stretch on forever, while years passed by in a blink. As she ticked items off, she wondered why she hadn’t done this before she was rushed into it. Why had she prioritised everything else — money, EMIs, people’s opinions, everything ..over herself. Today, everything on her list had been done. There was nothing left to do. Nothing left to live for. She had do