Girl With Ink

       Every evening I am compelled to take up the task of dragging all my friends on the ground to play. We all differ in caste, age and thoughts but are bound to each other by this very thin yet strong rope of friendship. And yet constantly keep plotting against each other. We played different sports in different seasons. By which I refer to the seasons determined by nature and those by us, humans.         During IPL(Indian Premier League), our hands and wallets are forced to be massaged hoping to bring back the lost strength and money due to constantly lifting the bat, for we bat out of order and practice match fixing with the bowlers in the exchange of several chocolates or packets of chips. Since the IPL takes place every summer, balls are wacked out of the compound in broad daylight thus, ensuring our wallets never regain their original amount.          Monsoon leaves us with clipped toenails and torn shoes...

            Teacher’s day                  Good morning to one and all present here. Today, we all have gathered here on the occasion of teacher’s day. This is the day to recall the humongous contribution of our teachers in molding our personality and express our gratitude for the quest of spreading knowledge which they have undertaken voluntarily not for making a tiny sum but for the sake of creating an alert vigilant creative and practical minded generation.                                 A teacher is our guide. A priest showing us the path to the temple of knowledge. He is an enlightened soul who fulfils our thirst for knowledge. It’s he who never left our hand and helped us in times of difficulties and despair. It’s he who beams proudly at our accomplishments and at times when we met our goals and aims.   ...