15 Apr 2016

A short story that I’d been meaning to write for quite some time. It is about Kevin and his quest to sleep amidst the incessant ringing of clocks. I’m not entirely sure what the meaning of the story is supposed to be, so you are free to come up with your own explanation.

Tick tock, tick tock.

Kevin got up from his chair, keeping the book aside. It was time for sleep. He checked the clock; it was 1:43 AM. No time to be awake.

He turned the lamp off, and entered the bed, closing his eyes, losing his consciousness slowly.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

This sound of the clock was interrupting him. He hadn’t noticed it till now, apparently.

’For the sake of sleep, shut the hell up.’

Tick tock, tick…

He realised clocks didn’t turn themselves off, apparently. Why couldn’t there be voice controlled clocks?

‘I would buy one if they just MADE IT!’ He shouted to his conscious.

Nothing. It was still going. Looks like no matter what, the clock wasn’t going to listen to him. He’d have to get up.

‘Hsjsajad’, he mumbled random letters as he got up. Probably his way to curse. He pressed the ‘snooze’ button. No shit, it was going. It was still going. He pressed it harder, he pressed it a thousand times. Bet he broke the world record for the most snoozing in a minute. And it kept going.

‘This thing is determined’ he thought.

Kevin couldn’t sleep like this. He moved towards the sofa to sleep. He lay there, closing his eyes, losing his consciousness slowly.

Again. Tick tock.

‘Now WHAT? Can’t a gentleman sleep or what! DAMN YOU!’ So much for being a gentleman.

This was too much. Kevin got up in rage, checking all around him the origin of the sound so he could thrash the thing that was doing this with a hammer, so it dare not make such a sound again. No sign, the room was void of any clock.

Even the clock in the room had stopped, apparently.

Where was this sound coming from then? Kevin moved to check the area around the sofa, looking at every corner. Nothing, this was a dark, clock free space of cheap Ikea furniture.

The sound was coming from somewhere, but Kevin couldn’t figure it out. It was impossible to sleep in such sound, even if he stuffed sound proof glass in his ears. He moved a bit around the house. Not in search of anything, but for a seemingly quieter place where this sound could not reach. The house was small, so it was hard to find a place where this horrible thing wouldn’t pierce his mind. Horrible it was, it was a monster.

‘Upstairs maybe’, he thought. Maybe there he’d find tranquillity.

He walked upstairs. The sound of the clock was faint now, but he could still hear it. He moved to enter the only room which was upstairs; maybe it couldn’t penetrate the door.

Tick tock, tick tock.

It became louder! This was getting harder to figure out at the moment. Where was this sound coming from? Kevin was pretty sure that there was no clock at all on the upper floor.

But then, how? He was utterly confused. A puzzled expression covered his face. He looked out the window of the second floor. The neighbourhood was a ghost town. Not a soul was to be found roaming around. A soft breeze was blowing, as was evident from the leaves of the flying around aimlessly.

‘At least they get to enjoy quiet’, he thought.

Something turned his attention back to the house. The sound had just become even louder, with still whatsoever no direction where it was coming from. It seemed to vibrate through all the walls. It was everywhere, apparently.

This was getting unbearable.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

Kevin was scared. It was evident this was nothing of this universe. Where else did clocks would you find so monstrous? The thing was made to ‘wake you up’, not to ‘keep you up.’

Time, clock, the sound; these were eating him alive. He darted downstairs. Bet he broke the world record for the fastest time to descend stairs too. He was at the door in an instant, and he turned the knob. One more second and he would die of this sound.

He didn’t. But the door didn’t open. It was locked, apparently.

He had an idea; a light shone in his mind.

‘I am saved!’ exclaimed he.

He rushed towards the phone. He picked it up and put it to his ear.

Tick tock, tick tock.

It was coming through the speaker of the phone also, apparently. Brilliant, his last attempt at redemption and this is what he gets.

At this moment, just as the clock chimed off the hour, horror and serenity merged.

Kevin sat down and kept quiet. The sound of clocks continued to reverberate. They buzzed, they chimed, they rang. But his mind was empty. His voice was empty.

He was empty.

And then, the world was empty.

He opened his eyes. He was in his bed; it was 7. Birds were chirping and light reflected throughout the room. The clock was buzzing uncontrollably, apparently.

Tick tock, tick tock.

And he pressed snooze. It became quiet again. Kevin went to sleep.

15 Aug 2015

This is a poem I wrote on Independence day in 2015. It’s about war, freedom and the legacy of people who fought for it. I’m proud of this one.

We were the oppressed.

Thrown by the society, a mere fragment of broken glass shattered by the hopeless world. In a mere blink of the eyes, we vanished, torn and undone.

We were the outlaws.

Mocked, frowned upon. We were the creators of destruction, the facilitators of glory. For in us rested the future, and in us we faced the present.

We were the stars.

For some were with us, then by definition, others against us. And what is life, without enemies to face together with friends.

We were unique.

For we were the oppressed, the outlaws and the stars. And without us this nation would never be the same. And for that very same reason, we rose. Rose for the truth, for the lie and for those who were with us and against us.

There were no sides, but a crusade against time and what was right. And in the end, all that mattered was a dauntless and ceaseless light, for that guided us to oblivion.

And that’s why we are the revolutionaries. Mere mortals in the face of god, we struck back. We were violent in peace, loud in silence and full in an empty void.

And we live on today, in memories, in truth and in the lives of the billions of people who remember us.

And if we may be forgotten some day, the revolution will live on. Today, tomorrow and eternally.

For we are the eternal, the incessant and the infinite.

And we, are forever.

01 Jan 2015


My name’s Abhishek.

I’m currently a high-school student in India. I like to play basketball, code new things and watch movies. I used to play a lot of video games once.

Nice to meet you.