An Unpublished Blog
For the past eight hours Aaliya had sat beside Adhik in her denim hand-chopped capris and t-shirt, her hair tied back into a messy bun put together with a clip that resembled a shark’s jaw, her eyes staring out of the red square glasses into the blue computer screen. She was working on an article on “Blog Copyrights” for the online news portal she freelanced for. She sat in the midst of unwashed coffee mugs and print outs, scratching her head with a pen or nibbling at her nails once in a while. The only break she took other than the biological ones was to catch a breath of fresh air with Adhik in the small balcony of their apartment. As Adhik smoked, she stood their absorbing the noise and movement of vehicles and people in the narrow congested lane in front of their complex in Andheri, her mind pre-occupied with work. This was her technique to unwind; observing the world, storing them in her memory to reuse at a later time when she wrote. A tennis match was about to commence. Adhik st...