Read Letter Day

Vikrant spent the night tossing and turning in his bed. He tried hard to sleep but sleep was miles away from him. Giving up all his efforts, he sat upright in the bed, frustrated and ran a hand on his face. He sighed and stood up from his bed, walking to his desk. As he turned his lamp on, his eyes again fell on his taped up iPod. He grabbed it and plugged it into his speakers, playing another song. The song started with a guitar sequence, bringing a smile on Vikrant’s sad face. “Beetlebum…               What you've done She's a gun Now what you've done Beetlebum…” Vikrant shook his head with a slight smile, as the music livened up. “Get nothing done You beetlebum just get numb Now what you've done Beetlebum…” “And when she lets me slip away She turns me on all my violence is gone Nothing is wrong…” he sang along. Something suddenly bloomed inside Vikrant’s chest and he pulled out his chair, turned ...

Vikrant stood at the metro station, waiting for his 9 AM metro to college. The crowd went bonkers around him as it was a rush hour. People would run and squish into the coming metros and others would scatter out of them like spilled beans. The Monday morning blues and the commotion of the crowd felt all somber and chaotic at the station, but Vikrant was unbothered by it all. Nothing could come between him and the coding book that he had been religiously reading for a few days now.   He stood there with the thick book in his hands and his bagpack slung on his back. His huge glasses covered most part of his boney face and his combed-over-greasy hair added to his geeky vibe. He stood with a slouched posture, lost in his book. Soon enough, the metro came and he carefully boarded it. For a moment, he looked around, at the people in the metro. He gave took a deep and calming breath. His commute to the college was the only time where he felt relaxed, aside from him being home. In the...

As Published On:  https://7writers.com/read-letter-day/ The college cafeteria was jam-packed, as usual. Vikrant scurried across the hall to get to that one forsaken table where no one ever sat. The table was placed beside a broken-down water cooler and some other junk of the cafeteria but Vikrant could only care less. He placed his bag on one of the chairs and settled down, munching on a cold sandwich he made for himself. As he pretended to read from his book, he switched his gaze between the book and the entrance door, an umpteenth time, restlessly. And there she was! He stopped doing what he was, and stared while his body naturally shrunk down the chair as if he wanted to hide or disappear. A saintly smile played on his lips and he felt his cheeks warming up. It’s been years that Vikrant had known Kritika but he still blushed every time he saw her. “Hmm…” he muttered as he watched her walking across the cafeteria with her group of friends, talking. She held a folder a...