Growing up

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and the street was unsurprisingly quiet. The elders were having their precious midday snooze and the kids were glued on to their smartphones much like the way kids were attached to running around in the streets in the good old days. However, the quiet atmosphere was rudely disturbed by the shrill, piercing chirp of the cuckoo. It kept calling out again and again, oblivious to the irritated roars of the many sleepers it had just startled. The Cuckoo was apparently on a roll and was happily chirping away or singing in its opinion anyway. If the Cuckoo could talk the way we do, it would have spoken joyously about how its parents had hoodwinked the crow family into keeping the cuckoo egg. By the time the Cuckoo had grown into the absolutely delightful bird it was now, it had been too late to go back. The attachment had been sealed, family ties had been cemented and the Cuckoo was now an undeniable part of the crow family. The Cuckoo had no qualms in narr...

Ringing school bells cut sharply through my latest train of thought as I scrambled to my feet knocking my knee against the nearest chair leg in the process . “Ow”, I muttered, wondering why I was hearing the bell now as it has been more than ten years since I completed school. And then there was the annoyingly persistent banging of my rickety windows signalling that the winds were having their day of fun again. I immediately put my fingers to my ears and forced my eyes open to take in a frantic glimpse of my surroundings. I was still in my room and as far as I could see, the windows were bolted shut and I had a faint memory of triple checking them last night before snuggling underneath my cozy blankets. The noises in my head were showing no signs of dissipating and were now accompanied by more disturbing ones. The lines of some familiar song were being played again and again indicating that the record player was stuck, there was a shrill, ear -piercing sound of a swing going ba...