What the Brain Thinks

Prescript: This is the third part in  The Series . Sincere apologies for this delayed post. I have been lazy to write recently, hopefully the next part will come in a week ;) Read the previous part Here or enjoy the Previous Series . The day dawned along with Vishal. He could see Kishore flat on the floor in the other corner of the room while an empty glass lay next to him. The room reeked of alcohol. The door had been left ajar. Vishal wanted to flee but the fear of the unknown had stopped him from doing so. The only person he knew in this strange city was Uncle Kishore whom father had trusted, so he ought to do the same - he thought. The small hole in the roof let in a beam of light that hit Kishore on the face. The sudden light on the face had shook Kishore out of his drunk slumber. He woke and checked the small clock on the wall. It was half past ten and Vishal was sitting crouched on the bed. Kishore rubbed his face and straightened himself. 'Come. Lets go. We are al...

Prescript: This is the second part in the new series. If you missed the part 1 read it here: The Huge Step It was late in the evening when Vishal and Kishore rode in the city. The street lights and all the hustle-bustle this late was new for Vishal. Back in his village the meager crowd that gathered round the market chowk in the evening would disperse with the sun. Street-lights were a novelty to him. He wondered how people could afford to waste electricity on the roads? Back home there were 2 bulbs that would light-up the 2 important rooms - the main room and the kitchen. Even then they were not reliable and had to depend on oil lamps for half the nights of a week. Hope was creeping in his heart - maybe father was right about me going to city. I can earn and then get mother and father to see the city. Someday we will have a home here.   Kishore had also been good to him. On their way to the city, they'd halted at a tea stall. Uncle Kishore had asked him if he'd lik...

It was noon, the summer sun was blazing, no soul could be seen on the dusty road except for Vishal rolling an old cycle tyre with a tattered wooden foot scale. On a normal day Vishal would be on the fields with his father but today father decided to take a day off and this had given Vishal time to practice for the upcoming tyre race. Being short and wiry in stature Vishal always ended up last or was pushed down by the other boys. His only shot at winning was to be fast and skilled with balancing the tyre and for that he needed to practice. An year ago he got to practice his skills on his way to school-and-back but one day father came in with a worried face and announced that Vishal will not go to school anymore and will help him in the fields. There was no opposing father and so his fate was sealed to the life in the fields until today. As Vishal was playing on the road in front of his shoddy house, from far came a man riding a motorbike on the same road. The bike went passed Vis...