Monday morning arrived wrapped in grey clouds and humidity. The cultural fest committee room smelled faintly of damp paper and stale coffee. Representatives from different colleges occupied scattered chairs while volunteers sorted certificates and reimbursement forms into messy piles. Kuldeep entered quietly with a file tucked under his arm, and stopped seeing Utsav already there, sitting backwards on a chair near the window, lazily spinning a drumstick between his fingers while arguing with someone over sponsorship banners. “Of course,” Kuldeep whispered to himself, as he overheard Utsav arguing with some committee member, “No, because if the ortho company sponsors the event, their logo goes centre-stage. That was the deal.” “Bro that looks ugly on the backdrop—” “Ugly pays for your sound system.” Utsav dropped the words casually cutting the committee member mid-sentence. A few students laughed as Utsav looked up mid-sentence to find Kuldeep walk into the room. Their eyes met briefly and suddenly the atmosphere shifted in the room. Neither of them smiled, nor did any one of them look away first. A volunteer walked in with a folder and whispered awkwardly, “Uh… you both need to collect the rest of your certificates. Just sign here.” There was a […]

The Sankam Boys’ hostel for dental college was unusually quiet for a Saturday night after the inter-college fest cultural events. Most of the boys were still outside — some drinking at Sun and Sand, others devouring late-night biryani at Niyaaz, and a few posting blurry stories from the fest afterparty with captions that would embarrass them by morning. Kuldeep sat alone on the edge of his bed, adjacent to the wall on which he had painted a monochrome of Marylin Monroe. The trophy rested on the study table beside scattered anatomy notes for MDS preparation, a couple of fat MCQ books, an unfinished charcoal sketch, and an open journal with nothing written on the page. He should have been happy. He had won this trophy. Years of riyaaz… of quietly believing that his music, his singing belonged in smaller rooms and quaint audiences. Years of being told semi-classical music was “too niche” for people their age. And yet all he could hear now was — “…Chakke hai!” His jaw tightened, his breath became rapid and his head started throbbing again. The word echoed differently when spoken loudly by strangers. Not because it was unfamiliar. Rather, it was… too familiar! The […]