The brains were firing all cylinders. The soul was trying to break free. Tortured. Hurt. Broken. Bashed. This was perhaps the worst year of Maddy*. The school was full of torture. His studies were going in drains. His favorite subject (Maths) had become his worst nightmare. He didn't, couldn't, wouldn't study. He got 100/100 just a year ago in boards. Prize distribution function for the same is going to be tomorrow. And today, he was scared of hitting a mosquito, thereby earning bad karma, and flunking the first terminals.
Shit happens.
In the worst days, when the brain is over-worked, magic happens. His third eye opened. A poet awoke. He started writing. He poured out his heart. The pen became his best friend. He wrote. And tore. Never kept anything to be discovered. His heart had everything. Nothing was documented. No proofs of the cries of his heart.
But the pineal gland grew. He could see what nobody could. His philosophy improved. The English Literature classes had become his favorite. He deserved to be a medicine student - he chose Commerce. Why? He didn't know. He found commerce boring. Accounting felt too dry. Economics was better.
Literature kept him alive. He became the favorite student of the English teacher. She asked him to write a poem for her. Not for her, for an inter-school competition. He did. She liked. There started a love story. No, not the one you are thinking about. The one between him and his poems. He started writing in a diary. He won multiple awards.
He got his mojo. She got a disciple. The world was going to get an author. The pen is mightier than the sword, they said. It happened literally. Someone teased him. He used the pen - to poke it on his hand. He got a red card.
Shit happened.
To be continued...
*Disclaimer: Some names have been changed.
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