A Bowl of Elusive

Children always have a lot to say. So did I. And it is because they feel like whatever is new and exciting for them is also new and exciting for everyone else. I feel like adulthood sets in for a person the moment he realizes that most things he wants to say have already been said, most ideas already discovered and most conversations already had. My uncle used to describe this moment as the death of the child within oneself - when you stop enjoying cartoons and an irreversible cynicism sets in. For me, the cynicism and the realization that I have nothing new to contribute set in pretty early on. When I moved to college, I had had years of knowing that the more I talked, the less seriously people took me - so I became quieter. The quieter I became, the more cynical I got. And very soon, I was known as a jerk by almost everyone who wasn't close enough to me to realize who I really was. Before that, I remember always having stories in my mind, and even poems. I often wrote them and pe

Just when you think you know yourself, just when you feel like you’ve seen and felt it all, that nothing could surprise you, something comes up and it changes the whole dynamic. Describing Eric as a cynic would be the understatement of the century. He was a caustic, bitter, and sarcastic thirty-year-old going about his life like a clumsy fool, tripping on the various hurdles that life’s journey threw at him. In his three decades on this planet, Eric had seen various facets of the drama that life offered – death, grief, love, heartbreak; you name it, he had seen it. Eric was someone who had very rigid notions about the world, which he believed to be absolute truths because they were based on his real-life experiences. But as I mentioned at the beginning of this paragraph, some things just change the game. Angela wasn’t a stranger. Eric had known her for over a year, having connected with her through a dating site. She was someone who’d fascinated our protagonist right from the beginning