When he came and whence he
came, it couldn’t be a matter of choice for the seniors, party men, associates
and workers. His arrival, not an unprecedented invitation, had sickened the
rivals as it meant an infusion of a fresh leadership with whom the bustling
youth population could identify themselves and the veterans and the aged would see a
resemblance of their once alive pragmatic, now a legendary(sic) assassinated leader. He stepped out of his SUV
in the dusty town, a constituency he came to campaign and earlier, held by his
uncle, grand mother, father, and now he was projected as the aspirant
candidate. It was 2004 when he arrived, not a long time if we see the ascent of
his growth in unpopularity among the people, which is remarkable feat and
totally unexpected, as his ancestor have had distinguished records both in
terms of popularity and electoral politics. He did have a name, which I need
not tell, although a laugh or a slight grin would paradrop on your face before
you pass the end of his surname; yes his name is Gandhi, Rahul, as the second
name is of no value without the first I write Gandhi before Rahul.
“The Portal Room” A Short Story by a Student In Germany Who Just Wanted to Hug His Maa Without Spending 400 Euros, and 12 Hours Chapter One: The Portal Room It had been raining all day in Gießen. Not the kind of rain that brings kids to the balcony or makes your mother yell from the kitchen, “andar aa jao, bimaar ho jaoge!” (“Come inside, you’ll fall sick!”). This rain was foreign. Cold. Grey. Silent. The kind that made homesickness louder, made your heart feel like a waterlogged suitcase. Arpit sat at his desk, staring at the open laptop. The cursor blinked at him, like a ticking clock, but the words wouldn’t come. His eyes wandered to the window. He imagined what his parents might be doing in Delhi. Maybe Maa was making chai. Maybe Papa was watching the news. Maybe the house didn’t even feel complete without him anymore. His phone pinged. A message from his sister in Düsseldorf. Didi: “You okay? Missed your call. Also, Maa said, ‘Bas ek baar uski shakal dekh loon toh theek ho jaaye.’...
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