The Delhi Chapter : Page 28

Here they were, one after another:

1. Which is your dream city?

2. What is your dream situation for a proposal?

3. What is your dream job?

4. What is your favourite colour?

5. What is your favourite poison (alcohol)?

6. What is your favourite kind of music?

7. What was your favourite fantasy story as a child?

8. Who is your favourite super hero?

9. Which God do you believe in the most?

10. Which is your favourite style of writing?

My last answer was: Wit.  

And to that he said,

"Now in the genre opposite to your favourite style of writing, write me a fictional short story.

Weaving each of the answers you just gave me."

First I just stared at him, thinking he was positively kidding.

I mean, my answers had NO bloody co-relation with each other!

He couldn't for the life of me, be serious.

Then when nothing about his expression told me it was a joke,

I made peace with the fact that it was an actual assignment.

I got up and left the room with my papers, heading towards my desk..
[ Trying my best not to look busted. ]

It was my first darn assignment, for Christ's Sake!
I couldn't possibly goof up and look like a donkey!

A short story?

Fiction?

Stitching 10 random things together?

Jesus.

****

I settled down on my desk and restively opened a blank white word doc on my laptop.

Fuck.

[ Was the first word that came to my head. ]