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How I screw up my writing

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There is no one way to do something wrong, there are plenty. And only when you have done it all wrong, can you do it right. Here are some of the most common ways I screw up my articles, and I hate doing that. 1. The interrupted one. You began writing an article, but you realised that you were at work, or your mom called you, or your crush texted you, or your phone beeped because your friend tagged you in a meme and you got busy scrolling down the Facebook feed. Half an hour later, (or half a month, if you’re like me) when you realise that you should probably go back and finish it, the flow has been interrupted. You stare at the unfinished draft for 10 minutes (or 10 seconds, if you’re not like me), and you decide to let it die the neglected death in the drafts. 2. The over-researched one. You are in full firm!! You have an idea, and you start researching about it. You go through every possible material you can dig, but your thoughts get kind of forked. You come across s
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The Story Of Stocks

Raju was the smartest bloke you’d meet - he was fiercely independent, streetwise and had the people skills of a politician. Nobody asked him his grades because you would be busy being awed listening to the latest story of how he managed to convince Verma uncle to give him all the cricket balls that had gone into his house. Raju lived in a township with his parents. His father, a retired army general, had had his share of noise and poor air quality, and preferred to spend his days in the clean and green townships that were a part of the latest urbanisation planning by the city council. Situated on Ahmedabad-Gandhinagar highway, the Godrej City Township was an hour away from civilisation. Soon after the township was populated, it didn’t take very long for shops to start appearing in the vicinity. The shopkeepers made profits hand over fist - they could charge ridiculous amounts for things and get away with it. Nobody would want to drive all the way to the city to buy a pack of macar
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P.S. I've moved on.

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“How long did you take to get over her?” He snapped his fingers. I looked at him in disbelief, “Really? You took no time at all to get over a 3-year-long relationship?” “Well, I was mentally prepared for it.” Welcome to our generation. We are the ones who spent half childhood on streets and the remaining half at cyber cafes, where we spent the pocket money we’d have otherwise spent on food. We’re modern. But we’ve lived in joint families. We texted our first crush, and saved and archieved every special message, sometimes deleting special poems from our inbox just so that we could save that one text which made us particularly mushy. And we were ecstatic when phones with ‘locks’ were released in the market. We grew up watching SRK movies, but we also embraced the Aamir Khan of Dil Chahta Hai who shunned the idea of love. We are experts at moving on. It’s a pity that we don’t get to choose the time we take birth in. But that’s just one of the many things out of our control.
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Soiled Pots

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The most profound life lessons can be learned from the most trivial objects. Maybe God looks over us and laughs at how the ordinary, quotidian things cry out the answers we are looking for, while we hamper around, listless and discontent. A soiled pot has taught me an important life lesson. You have a soiled pot. You used it to cook something, and you don’t feel like washing it because you’re lazy. Put it away. Come back to it after a couple of days. I doubt you’re going to want to come near it. It will be even more disgusting to wash it. Put it away again. After a couple of days, you’re really not going to want to come near it. You wish you had washed it earlier. You are in a fix, but at least now you know that if you don’t deal with the pot right now, it’s going to be only worse. Don’t bury your soiled pots away, get your ass moving and start cleaning them. Address the stifled emotions. Let go off shattered dreams and make space for new ones. Abandon some hopes, for some t
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