Redhya

When I was twenty-one years old, I put myself up in a dormitory named “Vanvas” for some time. Providing shelter to students and employees getting mediocre salaries, that dormitory had people from different states of the country. We shared bathrooms and a filthy dining table lain in a hall next to the only kitchen. The occupants at the dormitory always looked flustered if not annoyed. They were generally found grumbling about communal facilities to each other at every nook and cranny of the building that had five floors. It was natural for me to hate that place too. I’d gnash my teeth in anger, on seeing unflushed toilets. The sight of faeces clinging to a closet would make me scream my head off. Every day, I’d encounter a disastrous event somewhere on one of the floors. For instance, sometimes, I woke up to unusual gurgling noises, the stench of bidis being smoked, and the sound of my alarm clock. Tring, tring… Tring, tring... However, amidst all that mess, a bizarre man, protecting hi

The Journey Two wheels, revolving rather fast on a congested road and manoeuvring between any space they can fit in, let me cut through the dead traffic. Vexed beings inside cars around me, moving forward at a snail’s pace and honking sporadically, have an urge to skip the depressing now and enter the hopeful future at once. If the traffic were observed from the top of a precipice, it’d look like an organised bookshelf. Surprisingly the very, unruly crowd have got perfectly arranged, first, hedonic events, second, experiences, and, third, expectations to be at peace and practise confusing self-love in their heads. On the other hand, far from the status quo, I – who is ignorant of his psychopathic tendency – am inanely drawn to chaos.  To my mind, chaos is an escape from the distressing reality that favours herd mentality. Besides that, it strictly denies the existence of any meaningful realities since chaos is an unpredictable and patternless system wherein absolute non-deterministic