Storieo

Category: True Story

  • Weavering

    Weavering

    Him: Hold my hand ;I’ll take you to the stars.

    Her: But my hands are full ; holding myself together.

  • Amma’s Lipstick 

    A chaotic Monday morning in a middle class home. Amma was busy rolling out parathas while Appa was engrossed within the sheets of newspaper . And I, a 2nd grader , pumped up with energy was heading towards my next mission.

    I silently walked on my tiptoes  to grab Amma’s new red liquid lipstick. “Oh shit, Amma’s payal, she is coming ,act normal .” I picked up comb and started brushing my own fountain ponytail .”Good acting, Amma couldn’t tell.” I quickly grabbed the lipstick and ran towards my room. 

    “Drawing sheets, paintbrushes, a rag, what else I need , I guess I am missing upon something ” I mumbled to myself . “Ah steel plate for palette .” I rolled the lipstick under the drawing sheets so that even if Appa or Amma come, they can’t catch me spoiling lipstick .”Although I won’t spoil it . Just require a small amount to paint the roses I drew . Amma would not buy me watercolor set as she thinks I will soon get bored of it .” I said to myself. 

    I went to kitchen and picked up the plate and then Amma said ” You are going to have apples that I have sliced for you?” “Of course  Amma ” I said . But I was fully focused on finishing my painting, ditched the apples and quickly came back to my room,  got settled down and started painting. Dipped the tip of paintbrush first in water and then in lipstick and then with a beating heart ,I placed the  paintbrush on the drawing and started painting . “Woah ! I really did a good job .” I exclaimed while holding the painting upwards proudly . Soon I was so engrossed that had completely forgotten about Amma . 

    The door creaked open and there came Amma looking for me . My face turned pale and the first thought that cam across my mind was, ‘now Appa can only save me’. Amma’s anger gave in as she saw the painted sheets . She gently stroked my hairs and asked me what was I doing . I explained her everything and she burst out in laughter . She said that I could have desperately asked her to buy me watercolors instead of doing this. I laughed sheepishly. The whole drama I had created was narrated to Appa and he too burst out in laughter over my silliness. 

    The very same evening Amma took me to stationary shop in nearby locality and over there I bought my very first set of ‘Rangeela tempera colors’ and I still remember , I held it very proudly promising that I will create wonders with it . This memory never fails to bring a smile on my face and still holds a special place at the bottom of my heart.

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  • Mom

    Mom

    Mom is another thing that we often take as granted, just like oxygen, water and electricity. Now, some people here will be like, oh my god! How can you compare mom to a thing? Or , a woman is not a thing! And blah, blah, blah, without even reading the whole story! Like seriously? Anyway let’s continue while ignoring such kind of people who create unnecessary drama and shows themselves as a liberal person in public who take care of their wives and treat them no less than a queen . But only they know what is the truth. It’s true that our thoughts keep evolving with time. And when people change their statements and thoughts with time, they are called as fickle , or vague , or unstable to their statements by the so called netizens. I’ve always been closer to my mother and saw her working every minute of the day , for every day of the month and for every month of the year and for every year since she came into this house after being married to her husband, my father of course. Now that doesn’t mean that I hate my father or he doesn’t much work. He is a really good father and I share very good relation with him, he also works very hard this house. And my grandmother, she also keeps helping my mom in the households. But she have various advantages like, she can rest whenever she wants, she do work whenever she wants to or mom will do it anyway, she can go and sit for an uncountable number of hours in our relatives house. But my mom , it’s not like she feels caged or feels like being harassed, because our family is really a sweet one. She thinks that taking care of us is the only target of her life now. She says , that she will be happy to work even more if it results in my success. That smile never leaves her face, when she talks about having dinner in a 5 star hotel, the day I will pay the bill with my first salary. She’s growing old, not because of age but because of the hard work she do and want to fulfill all her dreams as soon as possible.

  • Bird In A Cage

    Bird In A Cage

    Sitting locked up on the bathroom floor, knees brought up to her chest, her throat choking on her tears so as to not let out a sound or let anyone know, it was just another night for the little girl. Not the girl she wanted to become. All she ever wanted was to have a normal happy life with loving parents who are proud of her with every accomplishment she made. But she was so misfortunate that she got none of it.

    Her life, in anyway, was neither normal nor happy. Her parents showed her the love but never truly loved her. Moreover, they always expected her to be “a little” more. They were never happy with any of her accomplishments, let alone proud. The little girl never got the things she wanted. And to get over all these emotions of being the “disappointment of the family”, this was the only way for her without bothering her parents with another burden than she already gave them.

    All these cries every night was done by her with one and only one motive: To be able to see the next morning’s sun and continue to strive for her recognition in her parents’ eyes. It was as if she had caged herself and her true emotions inside her for her parents to see just the hard work which they would ignore anyways. Nighttime would become the time she finally opens the cage and lets herself out without letting anyone see.

    The moon, the stars, and the four walls were the only ones who accompanied her through these times when she needed someone so badly but was never able to tell anyone, or “become a burden” as she thought herself to be.

    The moon and all the stars would sometime even hide behind the clouds to weep in place of her and give her the comforting sounds of the thunderstorms. The sound of thunderstorms that everyone feared so much were like comforting music and sight to her. During such nights, she would stop her cries and look up to catch a sight of one of those bright lights and hear those loud sounds of explosions. After which, she would doze off into a peaceful deep sleep, one of the best sleeps of her life.

    THE END

  • My Mom, My Superwoman

    Until a few years ago, I was one of the many who regarded ‘mental illness’ as a temporary state of mind – that phase when you feel abysmal. But then…my whole world came crashing down, and I knew how real it was. My mother was suddenly acting ‘unnatural’. The diagnosis was to be – Acute Paranoid Psychosis, aka Schizophrenia.

    Throwback to my yonder years that witnessed my mom working incessantly for her family for 30 years. She was always the silent kind, making adjustments for everybody who crossed her path so that they would be comfortable. All through those agonizing years of juggling work pressures, raising children, supporting a family and handling a legal land case on her own, she never backed off. She endured it all without a word; all the while, I and my sister were the helpless spectators, but we respected her immensely for keeping her cool. Unfortunately, we didn’t realize that under this seemingly calm exterior, she was suffering…silently…all these years.

    And then that day gave her a blow – the last one that she could take. The memories of that day are vivid, dark and haunting. They play reruns on my mind although they are a decade behind me now. An eviction notice from the land case, directing us to vacate the only place we knew as ‘our home’, cracked the threshold of my mother’s sanity. She was shocked and so were we. But nothing could prepare us for the days that followed…

    A few days after the legal notice, I and my family realized that my mom was not being her normal self. Initially, we thought that the stress of building a new life all over again had taken a toll on her. Understandably so; my sister had tied the knot recently and I was in my final year of Engineering. Yesterday we had a house; today we had nowhere to go. Both my parents had retired from their service, so buying a house was a distant dream. It was a classic recipe for a mental breakdown. However, the gravity of the situation did not strike us till we started losing our mom to another world. Her imaginary world was far from our reality.

    She started talking about people who were following her because she did not give up the land case – they were allegedly after her life. She saw people across the road, holding a gun in their hand, ready to shoot her when she would step out of the house. She could hear voices from the alarm clock that were plotting to kill her; apparently she thought the clock had a sound recording chip fitted inside by an ‘enemy’ who was spying on her. At first, we believed her. Of course we had to. She was the one who taught us to believe in the power of good and evil. And after all that had happened over the last couple of days, I and my family could only see and expect the worse in everything around us.

    We called all our close relatives to comfort her, but none of our efforts were helping her see the world as we did. The world was closing in on her as she could see it. Gradually, the line between reality and illusion vanished. She was hallucinating. We couldn’t believe this was happening to us. My ever-so-loving mom was distancing herself from us. I can’t explain the void me and my sister felt when our mom stopped caring for us. One night she woke up and thought that we were trying to harm her. That was the brink of our agony.

    For all those who aren’t aware how difficult it can get to seek medical help for people with acute stress-related disorders, let me tell you, it is a harrowing experience. You are trying to convince a person – who has absolutely no faith in you – to visit another person (Doctor) who is ‘hired’ to harm them. The doctor had advised us that she could get violent, harm herself or even us if anything goes against her ideas of right and wrong. So, we knew it was not going to be easy, but we were definitely not going to give up on her. We had to be a part of her imaginary world, plot and play our characters to make her believe us…to believe our story. Any slip at this point meant we would have lost her trust, and our only hope to bring her back to reality.

    I still get goosebumps as I write about the day we had to play out the climax of our story, the day when we had to take her to the hospital to begin her therapy and treatment. I told her I had a bad headache and rested my head on her lap; I just wanted to feel her warmth before she left us for the next few days. I was aching for her gentle touch, but silently knew that she was beyond any emotions. But…I would only call it the unfailing love of my mom, when she rested her hand on my head, as if unknowingly reassuring me that everything was going to be alright. That day I cried like her little baby, hiding my head in her lap. Deep down, she was still with us and that instant I knew that we were going to have our mother back.

    While she was recuperating at the hospital, all her schizophrenic memories had been wiped clean. We were relieved that she wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath of those difficult moments later in her life, but being who she was, she was still troubled. She was upset because I had to face such difficult times during my university exams. Now that’s my mom; indifferent to what turmoil she had been through, only worrying about her loved ones!

    Almost a month of hospital stay, counselling, medications and therapies later, she was home as herself! And I am glad that I could welcome her back with my results – I had topped my university exams, hoping that my mom would forgive herself for the guilt she did not deserve. Not one bit.

    Love you mom…You’re a true inspiration for your daughters. You’re our HERO.

    – By Swapna Naik Kamble

  • Robbers’ Caught

    It was a hot summer day in Delhi. The streets were crowded with people going about their business. In the midst of all this activity, a young man named Rohit was hurrying along, his heart pounding with fear. He had just witnessed a terrible crime. He had seen a group of men rob a jewelry store and shoot the owner. Now, he was being chased by the robbers who wanted to silence him. He ran as fast as he could, weaving in and out of the crowds. He could hear the sound of footsteps behind him and knew that the robbers were getting closer.

    Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he screamed. But it was not the robbers who had caught him. It was a police officer who had been patrolling the area. He told the officer everything that had happened and the officer quickly called for backup. The robbers were soon caught and Rohit was hailed as a hero for his bravery.

    But even though he was safe now, He knew that he would never forget the terror of that day. He had come face to face with evil and had lived to tell the tale. He was shaken by the events of that day. He had never been in such a dangerous situation before and it had left him feeling vulnerable and scared. But he knew that he couldn’t let fear control him. He had to be strong and move on. The police were grateful for Rohit’s help in catching the robbers. They offered him protection and support, but Rohit refused. He didn’t want to live his life in fear, always looking over his shoulder.

    Instead, he decided to take action. He joined a local community group that worked to make the streets of Delhi safer. He spoke out about his experience and encouraged others to come forward if they had witnessed a crime. Rohit’s bravery inspired others and soon the community group grew in strength and numbers. They worked together to make their neighborhood a safer place to live.

    But even though he was proud of what he had accomplished, He never forgot the terror of that hot summer day in Delhi. It was a reminder of the evil that existed in the world and the need to stand up against it.

    In the end, Rohit’s bravery had not only saved his own life, but it had also helped to make the world a better place.

  • How to be Successful: Think like a Leader

    How to be Successful: Think like a Leader

    Do you have any clashes at work or in your personal life? Are you concerned that if you do something great, others will look down on you? Are you anxious that your own family would not support you in doing something you enjoy? Are you unable to complete a task because you are afraid of failing? Do you want to establish your own business but something is preventing you from doing so? Do you seek advice or look for motivating and inspirational films or videos for success stories or tips on how to live a worry-free life?

    The book ‘How to be Successful: Think like a Leader’ written by the author, ‘M. Curtis McCoy’ is a motivating and uplifting book. It compiles several interviews and true stories of Jeff Wobig, Connie Wyatt, Paul B. Watson, Eric Payne, Caujuan Mayo, Nathan Schulhof, and Jeff McGregor.

    In the fourth chapter, the author has answered a series of interview questions about his definition of success, what steps he took to get to a certain point in life, his greatest strengths, his greatest weaknesses, how he overcame them, what types of books he has read, what types of character traits he values the most in others, what inspires him, what advice he would give to others, and many other topics.

    The author has added short encouraging chapters after each interview to motivate the readers such as reward yourself, make others feel appreciated, six keys to building quality friendships, meet new friends, take pride in your appearance, stop wasting your life, the art of saying ‘No’, improve your attitude, develop winning habits and many more.

    There have already been many times in your life where you thought you put everything you could towards achieving a specific task but, you failed. The times you came close to success but just fell short. They may seem like failures but they aren’t. Each time we try and fail not only do we learn more about ourselves but we develop strength for the next round. Quite simply you learn from the small battles what it takes to win the war. Remember if it was easy to be highly successful everyone would do it. Achievement is an ongoing process, you need to go over your goals every single day with laser beam focus. A dream becomes a goal when action is taken towards it.

    Throughout the book, the author has included numerous inspirational quotes that will inspire readers to take action in their lives. Although there were a few grammatical and typographical errors, they did not deviate from the message the author was trying to convey. In addition, the author’s writing style was also distinct and easy to comprehend. The power of prayer and the Christian faith in God are all mentioned. This book is suitable for young entrepreneurs as well as anyone who feels stuck in their career/ job or life situation. I would like to rate this book 4 out of 4 stars. “Success is the ability to bounce back from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.”

  • Unspoken love

    Unspoken love

    In the midst of the Covid- 19 pandemic, my 11th-grade year commenced at an esteemed military school in Rajasthan, where students from various corners of India gathered due to their fathers’ postings. It was an extraordinary time, and as I entered my economics class on the first day, my attention was immediately captivated by a new student wearing a mask. His mesmerizing eyes instantly seized my interest. With a reserved demeanor, he often kept to himself.

    Determined to break the ice, I approached him and introduced myself, attempting to lighten the mood with a joke that unfortunately fell flat. The encounter left me feeling rather embarrassed, but undeterred, I resolved to find ways to establish a connection with him. I diligently studied economics to assist him in comprehending the subject. Our initial friendship evolved into a complex dynamic as we began to engage in spirited debates, teetering between camaraderie and conflict. Despite his aloofness, he would seek my counsel on various matters. It was during these conversations that I discovered the restrictive and conservative nature of his parents, who were the primary influencers in his life. He confided in me that he only felt comfortable talking to his dog, and confiding in the moon and stars. I genuinely empathized with him and wanted him to know that I was there for him. Although we often argued, I found solace in the fact that he was opening up and sharing his thoughts, as he had previously been quite lonely.

    One day, he confessed that he couldn’t see a future for us. I understood his reservations and let him go, accepting that our paths may not align in the long run. Nonetheless, as we entered 12th grade, we remained friends despite our frequent quarrels. The whole school was aware of my feelings for him, yet he seemed oblivious, deliberately ignoring me at times.Deep down, I knew the reality of his circumstances. In the depths of my heart, I acknowledged that a future together was unlikely. I mustered the courage to tell him that I didn’t expect him to reciprocate my feelings, but I wanted him to know that I cared for him deeply. I wished for his happiness and hoped that he would one day find clarity in his own aspirations.

    After completing our schooling, we moved on to different colleges. I believed he had forgotten about me, but my love for him endured, and the memories we shared remained vivid in my mind. I often reminisced about our dreams, where we danced together on lonely streets at night, accompanied by the enchanting melody of Ed Sheeran’s song “Perfect.” It was an unrequited love, as he never expressed his feelings towards me. Despite this, I harbored no regrets for loving him. To me, love is a passion that cannot be adequately conveyed with words. It is an understanding of another person’s desires, the willingness to let them go and forge their own path in life. I yearned for him to find someone whom he could passionately love. As for myself, I have shifted my focus to personal growth, embracing my single status even as I enter the second year of college. He will always hold a special place in my heart as my first love.

  • “From Skepticism to Success”

    It all started during my sophomore year at DAV public School. As an introverted student who struggled to find my place among my peers, I sought solace in books and solitary hobbies. However, my life took an unexpected turn when I stumbled upon an archery club flyer on the bulletin board. Excitement surged through me as I envisioned myself gracefully releasing arrows, hitting bullseyes with precision. Bursting with newfound enthusiasm, I rushed home to share my newfound passion with my parents. To my dismay, they greeted my excitement with skepticism.

    “Archery? That’s not a real sport,” my father scoffed dismissively.

    My mother, worried about the expenses, added, “You should focus on your studies instead.”

    Determined to pursue my dreams, I decided to prove them wrong.

    Despite the lack of support from my parents, I mustered up the courage to join the archery club at school. It didn’t take long for me to realize that my passion for archery ran deeper than anyone could imagine. I began attending practice sessions religiously, pouring my heart and soul into perfecting my technique.

    One afternoon, as I struggled with my aim, a seasoned archer named Coach Sarah approached me. She had witnessed my dedication and offered to be my mentor. With her guidance, I learned the intricacies of archery, from the correct stance to the release of the arrow. Coach Sarah became my guiding light, pushing me beyond my limits and instilling a belief in my abilities.

    As my skills improved, so did my confidence. I participated in local archery competitions, surprising everyone, including myself, with my performance. I won my first tournament, and the taste of victory fueled my determination to succeed. Months of rigorous training paid off when I stood on the grand stage of the National Archery Championship. The roaring crowd and the pressure of the competition were exhilarating. With my parents cheering from the stands, their doubts replaced with unwavering support, I channeled my energy into each shot.

    In a breathtaking turn of events, I emerged as the champion, proving that with perseverance and determination, dreams could come true.My journey from a hesitant beginner to a national champion had not only transformed me as an athlete but also as an individual. Archery had taught me the value of self-belief, the importance of pursuing passions despite external skepticism, and the power of unwavering determination.

    Today, as I reflect on my journey, I am grateful for the hurdles I faced. They strengthened my resolve and nurtured a resilience within me that I didn’t know existed. Archery had become more than just a sport; it had become an integral part of my identity, shaping me into the person I am today.