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Puneet Chansauria

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jul, 2020

Stories (4)

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9 Followers

4 Following

4 Stories

51 karma pts

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The Delusional and Deadly

Puneet Chansauria

It was a gloomy Sunday on which the brothers of my deceased colleague visited the hostel. They were evacuating the room. A motley band of hostel mates were helping, and I was one of them. In the course of retrieving the articles from one of desk-drawers I found a diary. And as I flipped through the pages, I realised that it was a personal diary. You might say that I am a mean SOB, when I tell you that I decided to keep that diary. I thought the personal memoirs would be filled with local wisdom that might help me through my years in the me...

0 likes

Old kite in the New Sky

Puneet Chansauria

Submitted to Contest #69

Oh, what a sight he is! If I had to find his equivalent, honestly but charitably, I will settle for Quixote. But I think, that honesty without brutality is liable to be seen as just an opinion and so let me qualify the likening of the man, who by the way is my father, to Quixote. For the true picture, you must take out relevance from Quixote and denude him of his chivalrous appeal and you don’t miss vacuuming out every speck of ambition, then, top it up with undue optimism that perverts the senile wisdom; now you have my Father...

6 likes

Auguries of the Unconscious

Puneet Chansauria

Submitted to Contest #67

I am just 27 years old and yet I wonder about the human condition a lot, well, I wonder about my condition, and that by extension, becomes a reflection on the human condition. I admit, I put it like that to give a philosophical hue to my narcissistic ruminations, but are these intellectual pretensions exclusive to me? Aren’t all thinkers and philosophers just do the same, they introspect on their chronic grief and transient pleasures and then compulsively extrapolate. Maybe I am being simplistic, yet, not absurd. Now, one may ask what ...

9 likes

The Efficient World—A letter to someone from the Last Known Blue Planet

Puneet Chansauria

Submitted to Contest #62

It was what you can call an old men’s club gathered in a Park. A sign declares that it’s a park. The Park lies amidst tediously landscaped complexes. The Park has, on its bio-programmed grass, growth-programmed playpens for 12- months –olds, wherein they play for exactly 2 months, no more, no less. Thereafter, they enter Efficient Growth Courses; we call this park, the Patch. Looking at the view, a word comes to mind—sterility. Nothing grows here, things just rot and wait to die. A model indeed for a world with an all-pervading phobia of spo...

7 likes