Brightshare

  Under the blue sky, I could do many things for survival. I was in fear. The brown kite was soaring around. Its wings were massive, and I recalled the day when it was about to jump over me and catch me. Thanks to that old lady of the rooftop garden. I hid myself under her newly curated green plants, and her presence there saved me. Now this rooftop garden became my home, and I chirp here for the old lady whom I have heard that my chirps were a song for her.

  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. 

  The night before the working day always hard... Even thinking of it envelops my weekends, and my holidays with grims, why? I never tried to unveil. Yet, I tried to filled the rest space of the canvas of evening with grins and the colours of happiness that my work brings me food and shelter and a financial cofidence, My hope is very important in this moments of world where money has its uncompromising power to devour the darkness of sorrows.  Wandering with  Daniel Steel and George R R  Martin in these two days taught me the art of writing practically and undoubtedly simple , only to write anything or every I am enjoying or I will enjoy. Hey, driffting clouds just wait a little, I want you to listen my words... You shall love them, my darling  as I myself loving them.

  It is not a story. It can not be a story. It was the life experience... the steps, the sensation entangled with fear and hopes, fear to lose what I had and dream for something not yet thought.  It was the time of the journey to unknown only with the faith of God. Go daughter, leave us . We are not responsible for your griefs if it is destined in your life. Don't return. Don't expect help in anyway from us. You chosed your path. You may meet the life of heaven or he'll we are not at all responsible.  Her statement,  her version  at the last day did not hammered me. I accepted it as her order. I cried in silence. I left them in the threshold and went outside to face the battle of life. The world seemed unknown to me. The people in my orbit changed their place. I found the unknown people of different sanskar in my orbit. I had no choice. It was the greatest turning point where I was only known to God and He was to me to talk , gossip in silence every moments abou...

 Mayuri was cooking dinner and Yogesh was preparing a list of beautiful places where they would visit someday. Mayuri recalled how they visited Puri snd enjoyed the long seabeach and worshipped Lord Jagannath,Lord Balabhadra and Maa Subhadra in the Shri Jagannath temple there.Both were so happy then. At that time she was writing poems and for her each poem Yogesh was her first reader.  Mayuri give me a cup of  tea. Weather is very cold today. Yeah. Mayuri said. After sometime you could find the beautiful couple enjoying tea talking with each other and recalling the days they have enjoyed. A happy family of course till the day Mayuri joined in the job as an accountant. 

 On that day when I was looking at the sky I saw a kite hovering. 

 I saw depression  and I stopped talking, writing, getting pretty , forgot who am I and cooked food unnecessarily and I said everyone how I feel proud to be a great mother, sister, daughter, of course a great female dedicating her life for other. Then...time passed and passed like one shrewd  enemy and I found myself empty.

 The city waked up with news of cyclone in south . The news of heavy rainfall there created the images of broken trees and houses along with the sad problems of people and animals living there. God is everywhere. But why did such things happen. Is this the people's fault,or this happens in this earth from time immemorial. This happens. This is one of the devine rule made for this earth where illusion prevails. The dwellers of earth endure changing seasons, atmosphere, climates, sadness, happiness, good moments, bad moments. And these are all devine rules. Life is just a journey.  So, the arguments of my mind taught me today to think and endure evening with love and respect to almighty God. It will definitely add energy to face each and every problem . The cloudy sky  Not atall unbearable  As clouds ⛅️ gift rain For animals and trees 🌳  Of this beautiful world  To survive.  Happy writing ✍️ 

 It's not easy. Life seems happy, sorrowful,again magical. Drifting evening, beautiful autumn moon,sky and the twinkling stars and dull feelings.  What is life! The old memories add smile to walk on and on May be something special is there waiting.  Hope sprinkle the wish to live one more day. Namaste 🙏 

 The sky glitters  The birds chirp The clouds ⛅️  Become colourful  As sun rises . May god bless you all In this subha sakale. 

Reading is a best habit to improve your language. If you will kill your precious time in different online tools ,later you will repent.

The life seems interesting. Nature is determined to change. Each one should try to change and adjust accordingly. The patter of rain again brought literature to add aroma. I looked at the drifting clouds. A raven just flapped and I wake up from deep slumber. ...

  I looked outside the window  and discovered a morning enveloped by  fog  and again fantasized it as a land of angels  for my meeting to live a great, and beautiful life. The parrot cried from the nearby tree and I heard the morning song to prove myself alive  amid the nature  over the mother earth  who every moment becomes kinder  before myself lost in the abyss. I recalled my literary days,  the cheers,  the awards, the hopes,  the dreams to win the marathon  amid claps of friends and family. My eyes filled with tears,  rolled out ,  evaporated in the atmosphere marking me a loser.  I fell down... Again tried again be ready to run. My legs became friendly My mind opened the secret door of dreams. Aging I avoided,  polished my grey hairs,  put some makeup on my face  and looked into the mirror. I smiled as I rediscovered myself . I avoided the laughter around  when I approached the clos...

 Dear Krishna, Have you ever remember me?I think to ask you such question at this stage of life is not so simple as we never expected.Long past there was a temple in the mid town where we used to go and play with our other friends. The temple was small ,unique and the old man who was their worshiping God was our chief subject of gossip. I used to sip the drops of holy water being distributed by the old man where tulshi patta was floating. Those days were beautiful, tension free and full of joy.

  People say it is easy to write memoir But, in my opinion,it is not so easy to open the door of your personal world for the people around. Still every word you write has flavor  of your personal experience may it be your own or of other you know. So, your every story, your essays, even your poem are your memoir painted with colors . The literary world  welcome everything  as it has magic to forgive and forget. Your memoir is immortal.