Published on May 25, 2026

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NYAC

Always weird

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 25, 2026

 

Always weird

I always thought I was weird. Not because I looked strange or did irregular things. I just sort of felt like the puzzle piece of another jigsaw trying to fit in one that had no space for it. The problem was I never found that jigsaw I was supposed to belong in.

Sometimes I think it’s horrible to feel so utterly alone. But sometimes I feel lucky to be untethered to anyone and anything, like a balloon floating in outer space with no promise of return to Earth. Probably will die over there, but hey, at least it got away.

I always thought I was weird, because I remember being called that when I was in kindergarten. It was a regular day, waking up from nap time, when someone looked at me and said, “you’re so weird.” It wasn’t even on the basis of anything I did or something I said. I was just labelled, branded as a “weirdo.” I remember being so confused about what that word meant; I asked my mom. She said being weird is a good thing. It means you’re special. So, I deluded myself into thinking that being called weird was a compliment. I remember being called weird and saying back, “thanks.” What an idiot kid I was.

I always thought I was weird. Especially when I didn’t want to go to parties or travel the world, but would rather go to the gym or play my sport. My mom and dad thought it was discipline and resilience, but it was actually that when my physical body was aching, I couldn’t really focus on the mental part that was imprinting into my soul, like a shard of glass, inching it’s way deeper into my skin, until it once touched my soul.

I always thought I was weird.

As I grow up, I love being weird. Everyone who was fun and understanding before has just become a shell of themselves, the people I knew were kinder, compassionate. They weren’t robots. They were just themselves. My grandmother often tells me I feel a lot or I cry too, but doesn’t that mean I feel the good things a lot too? My dad thinks I am too sensitive, he is probs right, but can’t I be sensitive for the good things too?

For the things that make me smile or at least used too.

I always thought I was weird, especially when I used to cry and feel something hurting in my chest when I had everything a kid could want. Loving parents, good education, food on my plate, friends. My parents could never really understand why I was so full of sadness all the time even though I used to hide it behind a mask of happiness and laughs. My dad once told me I was ungrateful. I remember crying. So much crying.

Why couldn’t I stop crying? I felt like a broken glass cup that’s been taped up, in its original shape however when water was poured into me, I used to leak, and once I started leaking, all the tape came off. I was just lying there, as broken shards.

I always thought I was weird. But I guess that’s just me. I always felt that kids could say things to me, but I know it wouldn’t ever hit me hard because they didn’t wipe my tears or see my skin bleeding.

I am weird but that’s just how I am.

Published on May 14, 2026

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NYAC

The exam that never ends

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

The exam that never ends

I jolted up from my bed, sweat trickling down my forehead. A sudden realization hit me, I have my science final today, and I don’t feel prepared even though I studied well! I got ready as usual and went downstairs to get breakfast. After finishing my studying-while-eating ritual, I left for school, my lucky keychain jingling.

I reached school and checked the timetable. ‘Physics final is from 9am-12pm’! I dashed into the room where I have to take the final and saw everyone settled in, I checked my watch and I was EXACTLY on time. I took a deep breath, found a seat, and was given my paper.

All went well, and by 10:30 am, I finished my paper. I looked at my watch again after zoning out. 10:32 -no-10:33, but I noticed that the minute hand of the watch wobbled a bit, unusual for my brand-new watch, but I paid no attention to that incident, because the bell rang, 1 hour and 27 minutes early… When I was about to raise my hand to ask the teacher why, the lights flickered.

POOF! In an instant I was standing at the door again. I checked the time, it was 9am on the dot. But that couldn’t have been possible! That would have to mean that time looped somehow! “Maybe that was just a dream or something” I told myself.

I sat down as the exam started. I looked at the question paper, and it was the same. I looked around, the same girl was nervously biting her nails, the same boy running his hand through his hair repeatedly, while another girl tapping her foot. I put in the same answers, and I finished at the same time, exactly 10:33, the lights flickered again and I found myself standing outside.

I sat down once again and noticed that the questions were different this time, before it was just questions like, “solve this”, or “define this concept”. But this time it was questions like “Why do you need to be the best?”, and “What happens if you aren’t?”. The new questions pierced through my heart because I knew the correct answers, but they didn’t feel true to me deep down. I wrote down my achievements and how my ‘amazing’ company pushes me to get better, when it was far from the truth, assuming that they might use this for our college applications.

I thought this was a prank, so, on the fourth loop I stepped outside the classroom, took a walk and came to class later. Sadly, everyone looked to be doing the same things as before. I stared around the room, still finding nothing. I got my paper and noticed the questions were phrased similarly to the previous one.

This time I wrote the truth:Why do you need to be the best? Because of societies expectations to outdo everyone in academics, but I play an important part in this, reinforcing their behaviour, but how I impact people is what matters.

What happens if you aren’t? I feel like a failure, even though my humanity or my ability to do good in other things can’t be measured through grades.

I wrote about the times I helped others learn. About choosing helping over winning. About realizing value doesn’t come from being ahead, but from pulling someone else forward.

The bell rang at the right time, 12 pm.

The exam ended.

This time, everyone stood up, and I realized my worth was not attached to my grades but my actions,

finally!

 

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NYAC

Note

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

Note

I used to live in a happy family with my mother (Sumitra) and my father (Anand). the day everything changed I was 12 now I am 15. it’s been three years I have been handling this situation now I have reached the last limits of enduring their fight their .it was all my fault . I shouldn’t have taken my dad’s phone that day. I should have listened to him.

Three years before ……

My bus was late so I took my dad’s phone to call the driver he was resisting constantly but ignored him. So, my mom came between us took his phone and saw the chats with someone after which she immediately started crying and shouting at my dad. my dad shouted for 30 secs and left for the office and returned next morning leaving my mom devasted .that afternoon my dad cried to maa and assured her he will not cheat on her again that time I came to knew about my father’s dishonesty but my mother was not satisfied with his assurance because of society she didn’t take any step and just gave my father silent treatment she just used give him his lunch that was the only interaction between them . after 6 months of that my mom used to came late night .my father worried so he kept check on her and found she was indulged in gambling for short term happiness which was missing in her life .they started quarreling almost every week then every day about silly things mom taunting dad for his betrayal and dad replying back my condemning her for gambling this was their daily routine for next six months. I was literally fed up this routine it affected my grades as I always thought when it would come to an end I was not able to focus on my studies ,my sleep , on anything it was tough but this was not enough I was teased in my class with a random boy I talked only 2 mins three months ago I complained of course teacher can’t help with that.it was almost 1 year of their fighting my grandmother came to live with us she also started taunting my mom and me condemning us whole day was her business .finally my mom told everything to my granny (to her mother).

She just gave her one advice “not to divorce my kid ,society won’t accept you” it was tough for her to feel relax she started showing her anger on me .she started losing money now she stopped my necessities to cover up the loss. On my 14th birthday my dad brought a another woman on the celebration being intimate with her in front of my mom she just called off party and announced divorce on the spot. she packed our bags and took me to a hotel.

Dad didn’t bother a little .my mom found a house on rent we went there. I started going to school again .my dad came to my school to manipulate me against my mom and was convincing me for living with him I was so pissed off because I loved my mom the most and I know my father will take my custody he is that powerful.

So to end this debate I am going to take my life this will reduce my mom’s burden of my expenses and my I will not be there my father will lose this debate. I am writing this note to free my mom from criminal charges I hope this would be enough . bye.

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THE LAST DAY

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

THE LAST DAY

The world as we knew it had come to an end.

There was a huge blow of dust that smacked into my face, in the middle of a dry field. The war zone. I held my rival’s collar in the air as I removed the knife from his back and tossed him onto the uneven, fallow ground. There was a grunt of pain, and even though I couldn’t see with the dust in my eye, I knew it was my enemy’s. After so many years of friendship and fighting, I felt he deserved a few last words.

“If only you had joined me from the start, we would’ve made a marvellous team, and all this would’ve never happened.” I gestured out to the large extent of a deserted field filled with bodies of dead soldiers.

“I- I-” He stammered as blood reached his lips and he was coughing.

I continued to speak.

“Look around you. There’s nothing you can do or save now. This is what you get for the pain you caused me. I took everything from you just like you took everything from me! The villain never wins right? Well, it seems you’ve failed this time.”

I could only see red now and my eyes burned, but even in his final moments, I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me distressed.

“You thought you could be the hero?”

“For- for a while,” He finally wheezed out,

“For a while, I thought you could be”.

It seemed as though he put all his energy into saying those 8 words, because now, he was dead.

The hero was dead. And I felt no remorse. There was a certain calm in the air.

I had won. My breath slowed down in relief.

It would all be worth it.

I looked around the war zone, the sweltering heat blazed down on all the destruction I had caused. All for what? I remembered the reason why I fought and started to run, to find her.

I reached the cave after what seemed like forever. The dust in my eye was replaced with sweat, running down my forehead. There was no one in the cave. Panic ensued as I looked around in search of my daughter. My only living kin. A decision was made for her safety that she would stay here, as I finished things off in the final stage of the battle.

Horror overcame me at the thought that I might lose her. I ran around in a frantic state.

The sun remained hot and the soldiers remained dead. I spent the whole day looking, until finally I came upon a stream. When I reached close to it, the stream appeared red. Blood red. Looking at the source of the stream, I rushed to my daughter. I kept her in my embrace as the sun set, ending the last day of my life. Her midriff bled as I wept on her injuries, in hope of them healing from my tears of guilt and regret. Her eyes were open and they wouldn’t close, as if she knew her death was untimely. There were scars on my body from the years of fighting but no scar cut deeper than this. I fought till the end of mankind,abused by power, all for her. Now, nothing else mattered except for the lifeless child I held in my arms. Thousands of soldiers had died in my hands, but my daughter is the only one I am accountable for. Humanity has fallen, yet I cry only for one death. None of this was required for our safety. I pursued immorality for my victory.

And yet, I was never the villain until now. I finally realised what I had done.

The world as I knew it, had come to an end.

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NYAC

Boy

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

Boy

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

– George Santayana

It looked as if he were just moving into the flat. It was empty and free of furniture. In reality, he was leaving. There were several cardboard boxes placed precariously on a table, and in front of it stood Boy. Yes, he was commonly accepted as ‘Boy’, as no one bothered to remember his origin, or remember him at all. The only people who did visit his house everyday were the locals, who had come just to tell him and all his neighbours to make a move, followed by everyone’s confusion. He was a fresh-water-sailor in living alone and this was the first time that his life, or his country, had thrown such a calamity upon him, so expected as if an act of god.He had moved into a room shack, and now it had half a room and a large pile of bricks. A truly agonizing moment every hour, where the people of power and official word, fought for revenge like a game. The same guns which the poor thought as fortune and rare metal, were the regular household utensils for these people. Of course there were the people who weren’t involved in the turmoil, and didn’t want to be part, but as we know – whatever the uppers do, the lower ones will be part of it, at any cost. More than 80% of the population at the time, consisted of the peasants. Two months into the conflict, this was reduced to 30%.

But this didn’t matter, because yet with some of the poor alive currently, no difference was made in the perspective of the people who steered the world. I didn’t blame them. No one did. A country which fights first, has to be fought back at, during war, regardless of the setbacks and killings. The satisfaction of the people meant everything.

This is where the story of Boy comes in. But the difference was that he was seven, and had no idea about what a war was due to uneducation, but exactly knew how it felt. That day was his last day to evacuate, as the mk80 bomb series was being tested there. The military had chosen this area as perfect for this for the preparation of war, as the life meter showed the number ‘0’. No human life and no animal life (which they had ended in the previous testing). Of course there was Boy and a couple of his neighbours, but they didn’t count as their death wouldn’t leave a mark. Boy had no coherent plans. A half baked plan after another. It wasn’t until midnight, when he was on his move. He passed the abandoned and barren land where he had been living for all his life, and was very sad. But he didn’t really have a choice. He walked over several broken bricks and tiles, and came across several markings. He heard the sound of thunder. The blasting fire of the gigantic jets flying towards his direction! It was too late, and he started to run. He was deafened by the sound and eventually fell hard to the ground, tripping on a wire. He didn’t have any energy to get himself back up. There was pitch black everywhere and soon the world collapsed around him.

Back at the National Army centre, the reports were good! All of the newly launched mk80 bombs were working perfectly fine and people were clapping. It was even in the news that day and you probably went through it, proudly. Their country had finally reached the position of strong army, and that’s all that matters.