We ain’t dead

For all those people (and trust me there are!) who’re living under the impression that this blog is dead and it was “just a phase”, you couldn’t be more wrong! 

No we aren’t dead. We aren’t over. We were just on a break! –What up Friends reference!!! (And superwoman too! :P)

And now that we’re back, I’ll ask you one question…..What is your passion in life?

(Surprised at the question? ) From the past few weeks, this question along with others has haunted me. 

What is your passion? What d’you want to do after graduation ? Where do you want to go? How do you want to live your life? Which career do you want to pursue?

Now unlike those lucky *#*#**#* who know what they’re ” born” to do, I am as confused and as messed up as my cupboard! (Trust me there is no better analogy) How do you decide what your passion is? How can you come to the conclusion that “this” is what I’d like to do for the rest of my life and will be happy ever after! I don’t know how much I’ll like it after two years or three years. And how can you expect that my fickle brain would stay happy in that one kind of job forever?

Don’t even get me started on those preaching puckers who have their lofe set and then tell you “it’s okay to not have decisions ready at the moment, you can take time”. Both these people and theor advise are annoying! I mean yeahh I know I can take time, but will I? Don’t you know me at all? And even if I do, and I still don’t know what to do….then? 

Okay! So back to passion! How do you know what your passion is!? Do people who throw this question at everyone they see (sorry that’s what I did up there, but I hope by now you realise this is a rant!) Do you realise, only a handful of people know what their passion is? Others like us, are clueless. And happy to just have a really good pizza! 

I am honestly stumped! Please tell me you are too! And that’s a really stupid question! Whoever asked it first is dead to me! (And the rest of the world too, for that person must’ve died centuries ago!) 

But you know who isn’t dead? Me! And all of you clueless people out there! We ain’t dead. No no! We can figure stuff out (i hope). And i don’t know about you, but I’ll do everything and anything till the time I either find my “passion” or become broke or super rich. I’ll do what adriene tells me to do! I’ll find what feels good and live in the moment, experimenting thousands of things till I find the right one. (But I’ll start with the things that can make me super rich! šŸ˜› you know, should derive something from this trial and error research!) It’s time to stop obsessing over passions and start experiments with life. 

Have a good day! Bbye!


The Girl in the Attic


Who would you trust? A mortal, or a ghost? The lovely neighbor who brings you cookies or the unwanted resident who has destroyed your property with a cry for help?

What would you do if your husband wants to help an innocent dead girl but you know she was a witch!

This was the dilemma Christina and Dave were facing. This situation in which they and probably everyone they knew had never been in before, started neither an argument nor a fight. They could neither convince the other person, nor could they trust whom the other person trusted.

They both sat silently, confused and scared. No one moved a muscle and no one made a sound. The wind outside, which would be romantic on any other day sounded gloomy, as if it was hitting the leaves and singing a song of death and separation.

Christina woke up with a start. She did not realise she had dozed off. Even admist this big confusion she felt happy that she wasn’t crazy or mad, reassured that her love was with her now and this acted as a much better sleeping pill than the ones she had a prescription for.

She realised Dave wasn’t there. She searched for him. He was not in the house. And then she saw a message left by Dave,
“I had to.”

Christina ran up to the attic, an unknown courage possessing her body. She found exactly what she had expected. The remains of Lysa were gone….

She ran to Mrs. Norris’s place, and banged the door urgently. A sweet voice asked “who is it?” And on providing a satisfactory reply, Christina was ushered in. Before she could say anything, Mrs. Norris hit her with something on the head and she fainted.


Dave felt bad for betraying his wife but he had no choice. He hadn’t told her the complete story of what had happened before he had called her back from Norris’s house.

When Dave had entered the attic, he naturally gravitated towards the bones. He touched them for some unknown reason and as soon as he did that, he somehow travelled back in time, as if he was in a dream. He saw young Lysa in the attic. Someone suddenly whispered Lysa’s name. She got up and walked straight to Norris’s place. Strangely that old woman looked exactly the same 25 years ago. Lysa walked as if she was possessed, with a straight face and body, listless and lifeless, still eyes. She entered Norris’s place and was given a cup of tea which made her look paler. She got up without a word and went back to the attic.

Lysa was lying in her room when someone whispered “young bloodā€¦bring me young blood”.
Lysa got up and went to her youngest sister’s room. She put a weird looking rose near the child’s nose, and then pricked her vein collecting blood from the girl. After her task was done, she walked to Norris’s house silently….and left the bowl in front of her house.

Scene changed and Dave was standing near the grave of Lysa’s mother. He could hear all the women in the ceremony pity Lysa. He heard how a strange illness had taken the lives of all the family members except her. And how she is blessed but cursed at the same time.

He was then transported back to Norris’s place, where he saw Lysa waking up, as though from a deep sleep and throwing away her tea. Norris hit her on the head and Lysa passed out. Norris was muttering ” no, no this ain’t good” under her breath. She then injected Lysa with a vile of green liquid which woke the girl up but with the same lifeless possessed demeanor again.
“Don’t you dare disobey me girl” said Norris.

Dave then saw a fast forwarded scene of Lysa trying to resist Norris’s medication. She stole blood once and then ran away to the forest. Norris found her and again hit her on the head with what appeared to be a stick.

Norris must’ve thought that Lysa is getting out of hand. For the next time when she sent Lysa on a blood stealing expedition, Norris brought a group of witnesses who got soo angry, that they ran after Lysa and burnt her.

This was the last scene he saw. He knew Christina would never believe him as Norris was now targeting his wife. Christina had told him of Norris’s “comforting” tea. So he decided against telling her. He planned to first set Lysa free and then set fire to Norris’s place as well.

He reached the forest with the bag of bones. His heart was pounding and he was scared, but this had to be done, and had to be done fast. He poured alcohol over it, for it was the only flammable thing he could find easily at home and was about to light it up, when Christina shouted his name from behind.

He turned around, and was startled to see Norris standing just behind him with the creepiest smile he had ever seen. Before he could react, something hit his head and everything faded…..

Dave woke up in wine cellar turned dungeon. The place had dim red light and a bad smell. Christina was tied to a chair, and a tube was draining blood from her body. He tried moving but his limbs felt as if they were made of stone. A lady walked into the cellar and greeted him. It took him some time to realise that it was Norris. Not old and congenial anymore, she looked like a healthy 40 year old woman with good figure and a very mean demeanour.

“Don’t strain yourself now dearā€¦your lovely wife is alright!” She begun.
“I suppose now you’d want to ask the age old questions like, who are you, what are you, why are you doing this?”

“Well let me clear all your doubts before my lovely accomplice prepares you for my dinner, oh you know her, we don’t need introductions now do we? Cmon out Lysa, don’t be shy” she smirked.

Lysa floated through the room and joined Mrs. Norris on the table near Christina.
“Isn’t this lovely Lysa, two fresh meals tonight. I was sooo done with those old-fat couple you hunted the last time.”

“Ah! Back to your doubts now, well I’m a fairy! Not your stupid, fairy godmother types ofcourse! I hate them by the way, not that you asked, but I feel they are useless and irritating. My type is called Baobhan.”

“It’s tough to hunt these days you know, so we have colonised this area. We control the people here. Well….if you can call them people!” And she started laughing at her own sad joke.

“And why am I doing this? Well, I’m hungry that’s why!” She poured some of Christina’s blood in a wine glass and started drinking it! “And this lovely creature is a soul I’ve captured!” She said pointing to Lysa.

“Okay, enough of this chit-chat! Now, it’s party time”


“Oh hello Mrs. Norris! How are you? We loved your cookies by the way, they were lovely!”

“Hello Max! Oh! It’s good to hear! I’ll send more over to your place. I have plenty of cookies ” Norris replied. “So tell me Max, are you loving your new house?”

“Oh yeah, it’s pretty awesome, but I guess the attic light is faulty, it switched on last night, by itself. Gonna go fix it today!”

“Ofcourse, ofcourse, don’t let me keep you! Off you go!” Norris said with a smile!


Aprajita Rana

The cry of a werewolf


He’s crying inside
He’s dying inside.
He wants to stop…
But his body won’t listen.

His prey is quivering with fear
Begging…she’s in tears
He’s apologizing
But a growl is all she’ll hear.

As the moon hits zenith
He tears her into little bits
Feasts on her warm blood
He’s sad for he likes it.

Cursed…how cursed his life is
Kill and eat, sad predator’s bliss
Little do they know he’s crying inside
Little do they know he’s dying inside.
His dad was a hunter, a noble man
He saved scores, but failed to save his son
Often he’s wondered, would it be better to die
Than bear the curse of werewolf’s kiss each full moon’s night.

He tries to save humans
From his own bloody claws
But nothing is in his control
When wolf’s shape he draws
He can see and hear
Taste their flesh,
He can feel their fear
Smell them bloodied afresh.

And he cries and cries and cries inside
And he dies and dies and dies inside

If this is how it’s supposed to be
Killing your sister and someone else maybe
Than isn’t better to leave this fight
And let death set him free tonight?

So he gathers all his pieces
He’s shattered again
Walks off the cliff
Crashes like a plane
On the pointy rocks down below
Last breath is drawn
And slips into death’s land
At the break of dawn.

He had cried cried and cried enough
Now he can die die and die at last.