Brightshare

  The day jumps in the lap of night and passes the threshold of dusk. Life becomes still beautiful, accepting changes and welcoming new civilisation and welcoming new people to act as per their luck perhaps. How could problems around us be stopped as those are part of changes? So it would be better to accept and walk on.  Civilization changes and people change. Changes is  their way of life. No one can stop.

 Anni, a little girl, folded a paper toy ship, her fingers nimble with excitement. Suddenly, the room swirled, and she found herself in the cozy cabin of a real ship rocking on the Bay of Bengal. The salty breeze tickled her nose, and the creak of wood echoed. "What is it!" she gasped, wide-eyed, but a grin spread across her face. This was no time for tears—her imagination had whisked her to adventure! She peeked out the porthole, ready to sail the sparkling waves of her dream.

 Under the clouds,sun peeped. Birds chirp ,I waked up. A cup of herbal tea enhanced my confidence to dive into the journal. 

My Dearest Krishn,The days drift by, floating on the river of time, and seasons gallop along the universe’s grand rhythm. You, my precious grandson, are now nine months old. When you arrived in this world, I was here, waiting for you. Watching your videos, I weave stories for you, Krishn, dreaming of the day you’ll return. I’m waiting for you, my sweet boy, always waiting for you.Yesterday, you tried to stand, your tiny legs wobbling, your voice bubbling with cheerful sounds. I smiled, startled by your humble beginning, my heart swelling with pride. I’m here, Krishn, waiting for you, forever waiting for you.Beneath the drifting clouds of summer, a sudden rainfall patters, and a kitten mews from somewhere nearby. I think of you, watching your videos for solace, knowing you’re safe in your nani’s house. She must be caring for you with love, my dear grandson. Still, I’m waiting for you, Krishn, and I’ll keep waiting for you.With all my love, Your Grandmother 👵

 It was evening, like any other, heavy with quiet despair. As I walked home, I shed the day’s office burdens, letting them drift into the dusk. The unnamed trees along the footpath stood tall, their green leaves glowing in the fading light, a silent beauty. Birdsong filled the air, the final chirps before night’s rest, weaving life into the world around me. I paused at the bustling marketplace, picking out a chocolate for my daughter. Her smile bloomed in my mind, and my heart swelled—I was, in that moment, the best mother in the whole world. Arriving home, I heard the familiar creak of the gate as my daughter flung it open, her eyes alight with joy over the chocolate gift. She spilled stories of her day, from school adventures to tales shared with her grandma, my mother-in-law, each slice-of-life moment enchanting my weary soul. Night drifted in, the moon casting a gentle smile across the sky. In the puja room, the diya flickered before the altar, its golden glow dancing with the ...

 Listened the chirps of morning birds, waked up, life seemed easy... Life of a writer is not  easy. Writing is hard. Self doubts will make you cripple.  Self learning is most important.  ************** Give food to birds. They will be happy. The sun is rising up and up and on  it's journey. ***** Ideas are cunning. They always play hide and seek game.  *****  Brainstorming is difficult.