The tricky twins!
Ram and Shyam were twins. They were both fond of playing tricks on their friends and teachers. Ram had a preference for a stubble and Shyam shaved daily. But there were days when they reversed this… and when this happened, the world was in a tizzy! So obviously, their favourite one was pretending to be...
Poets write, stubbles don’t
They were meeting after a gap of a fortnight. He sported a stubble that day. She stopped about two feet from him, looked straight into his eyes and said, ‘Your clean shaven looked bowled me over. And then bit by bit I began loving you. But this look…’ She paused. Her pause was long enough...
Men in pursuit
No we’re not debating if it is men who love pursuing women or is it the other way round. Think what pleases you because I believe both forever want the best as their friend and partner. But here is a conversation between two men. One is a pogonophiliac or a lover of beards sporting a...
Autobiography of that unclean stubble
The stage was set. Microphones were functional. It was a gathering that stubble-land had never heard of before and so they had called it STUBBLEBURN of the unbathed stubble group. They were all there with all their attention. Some were in black achkans and others in sedate grey or even white sherwanis. After all, their...
There’s more to stubble than you really know
‘Haven’t you forgotten to add an article before stubble in the title?’ asked Specky when she read what I was writing. I paused and replied, ‘No. And that is because I’m not writing about A STUBBLE. I’m writing about stubble, the word.’ ‘So that means a stubble isn’t always the sort of despicable out-growth...
The stubble debate
His friends called him ‘stubble’… and they did that not just because he had the most endearing stubble in the entire Boys hostel, but because he was able to scratch every itchy part of his body with his stubble! And he quoted Jarod Kintz from his book ‘The Book Title is Invisible’, ‘I enjoy scratching...
Part and parcel
‘The parcel,’ I said, pointing to the opened packet on my study table, ‘has just delivered a part of me.’ My friend Anoop was aghast. He thought he had just heard words that were macabre and waited with eyes open for the rest of the gory details. He, however, did hesitatingly ask, ‘Hope you aren’t...
Twenty-four years later
We met after twenty-four years. In a restaurant. A well-lighted one where they are discrete and interactive without making you feel you’re being stalked. She looked around and saw the paintings on the walls. ‘Nice paintings,’ she murmured. ‘Yes ma’am,’ said the waiter emerging out of nowhere, ‘the entire décor is inspired by the Southern...
We-can-we-will
My stubble, it’s mine How can I hate that smelly stubble? The unshaven bard sang his song merrily and people clapped. He stroked his trademark prickly stubble and after finishing his song, said, ‘Three cheers for the all-male how-can-I club.’ The next performance was by the all-women why-must-I club and they believed in only protest...
This happened at three in the morning
Sproing! Sproing!! His mind was sluggish at three in the morning and his eyes sleepy-laden. He slowly opened them and saw his navel peeping out of his unbuttoned night-suit shirt. ‘I’m lying down,’ he thought, ‘how can I see my own navel?’ He thought he was still dreaming and pulling himself out of his bed...
The edge of reason
When words move out of their homes And emerge like stubble, all prickly It is time to shave them off We carve our future with a dose of ambitions But sometimes the cravings get out of hand, Boisterous. It is then time to take the whip out. A stubble can be boisterous but not a...
‘Me?’ I asked, giving my stubble a thoughtful rub
‘Me?’ I asked, giving my stubble a thoughtful rub, ‘You want me to write on what would make men get rid of their evening stubble?’ We looked at each other and I could see that there was a tinge of confusion and another hint of a smile thinking who would win. Well, laughter meandered freely...
