An attempt to write fiction:
He was standing there staring the traffic light and impatiently waiting for the signal to turn red so that he can use the pedestrian crossing. It was 12 noon, a day in mid-June and it’s 44 degrees in Delhi. He was wearing white shirt, which was almost wet because of the sweat, folded his sleeves to its two-third. His stomach wasn’t fed since yesterday as he has been traveling and just returned to Delhi that morning and kept all his lodging in cloak room of station. His hairs were all disheveled. (but strangely the school-going girl, who was on her way to home and standing next to him, found his causal look in formal attire rather kewl).
His one hand was constantly engaged in sweeping off the sweat-drops from his forehead and another one held his documents file, folded in the same way as he gets morning newspaper. He was over poured with the emotion called agony, after again having a ‘..We’ll let you know..’ statement by the interviewer. Back in home his retired father was waiting for his eldest son to come and have luncheon with his two younger brothers and a sister who didn’t go to school today to assist his father for the puja in home at their mother’s Barasi.
While he was waiting a car came to a halt. He glanced over the guy sitting in Honda City wearing Gucci shades, 'enjoying the music from play system, chatting one of his mahila-mitra from his cellphone of Samsung's latest series, in air conditioned environment, showcasing his father’s annual income through those fancy accessories and attire. ''I know...Things are so easy for him… I know... O God... Thy have always been blind and biased...'' he monologued.
Then the red signal came to his attention and he began crossing, smirking over his own condition...
Another fellow’s results were out and he just finished reading the text from his friend informing that he had failed in two subjects. His father, a business tycoon, gifted him this Honda that morning on his 18th birthday, which he was not so fond of. He was an excellent drummer and won first prize in all inter-school & state-level chess competitions and wanted to pursue further as profession. But after his father’s strict denial of this idea, he was admitted to one of the good commerce college of the city, even after such poor marks he scored. Just because, being the only child, he has to take care of his father’s business after him. He lives in big complex of his weight (which touched new height past week of 96 kgs, too much for 5 feet height), cause he is victim of obesity and dyslexia since childhood. He constantly gives his best efforts to shed a little but...
His mind was engaged in planning how to unfold this piece of news (of his result) to his father when he saw this 6 feet dude, of perfect build, crossing the road.. ''I know.. he is also sneering over my weight.. I know... he must has so many mahila-mitra..all these guys are so lucky... O God... Thy have always been blind and biased...''
