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  • The Platform

    The Platform

    On the foggy winter night of December 31, a 5’7″ athletic man wearing a peach hoodie and blue pants holds his black American travel suitcase and blue suitcase. Drenched in sweat, he ran to himself. train which was about to depart from Platform 1 of Ahmedabad railway station.. The train was supposed to leave the station at 3:10 AM and reached the station at 3:12 AM when he ran towards his train he saw him leaving the platform . He left the platform within five minutes and could not catch his train. It was the second time in his life that he missed the train. When he missed the train, he was disappointed and disappointed because he swore that after missing the train don’t lose another one. first train It was the last train to Mumbai in the early afternoon and the next flight was at 4.20 pm. There was a strike, so many trains were either canceled or delayed. It wasn’t just the thought of missing the train, it was something else. He sat down on a chair and placed the travel bag on the chair and the suitcase on the floor of the platform. He was sitting there, bent over, head down, hands on his head, looking at the floor. Suddenly, a familiar voice said from behind something he couldn’t make out but felt very close, “Please leave your bags on the floor, I’d like to sit on the chair?” He looked up to see who it was. He pulled the bag to his side to keep it on the ground. “Is she…? Those thick, jet-black hairs, those dark, resolute eyes. A girl with soft chubby cheeks, round lobed ears, a childlike fresh voice, and a short, chubby frame. is it really her? – he asked himself. He put his bag down. The girl came and sat on the left side of the chair. She was wearing black leggings with a pink hat. She had two pieces of luggage with her. She, too, had recognised him and been struck dumb, for she had not expected to see him there, and so had been taken aback to see his face when he turned. The truth was that she merely preferred to appear unfamiliar to him. She just didn’t want to pretend she knew him.

    Her black Noise earbuds were in her ears as she had an on-call conversation. – Yes, I got on the train, let me settle first, then I will call you. – Oh, in that case, she is lying to her family maybe sister or maybe some guy… She hung up and put the headphones back into the black case. There was a dead silence between them for a few minutes, then he thought about breaking the silence.

    He grabbed his Sprite bottle and broke the seal and was about to drink it when he heard a voice say, “You’re getting cold!” “Oh, actually I forgot to buy a bottle of water and my throat is dry. , so I thought about drinking it.” Without saying a word she took out her water bottle and offered it to him which he immediately accepted as if he was impatiently waiting for it, while drinking the water he suddenly said: – “You should have asked me for water.” “How important is that to you?” Handing her the bottle, he continued, “I asked for it and went on, but all my pleadings were in vain.” She understood the context he was alluding to, but she stayed silent.. “Thank you for water and I’m sorry for what I said I forgot I can’t say now. I’m going to the store and get a cup of coffee, would you like that?” “How important is this to you? how are you You just don’t care about me. Don’t you dare show me your false concern. You just care about how much you want to say, no matter what situation someone is in. What do you know about what I’ve been through? Are you interested in something? You only care about your male ego. This is all you need to show the people you love that they believe in you no matter what you do. Just go get your coffee and don’t think I’m sitting here willingly. All the other seats are either broken or very dirty and I saw a man sitting in that seat but to my horror it was you and it is the only seat. I won’t bother you too much and I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. I’m only sitting here because my leg is hurt. So please have fun! ” She was tired and couldn’t breathe because when she fell down the steps of the platform, she fell right on her stomach and hurt her neck. He sat there trying to comfort her, but she was in no mood to do so. “Don’t you dare touch me! Please go get your precious coffee.” That would be my best concern. Just go.” For the comfort of her, he stopped caressing her back and instead just sat there and stared at her. After a little while, he turned to his right, unzipped his bag, and after a brief search, pulled out a cool pack that hadn’t yet been opened. He gave it to her after opening it in front of her so she could apply it to the spots that were developing on her neck. She hesitated at first, but then she took it and placed it to her neck, feeling relieved. He walked to the station shop and bought a coffee while she applied the cool pack. When he returned, he placed the coffee in between them. She grabbed the coffee and took a sip…


    [Stay tuned in for the next part. Please do give honest feedback or you can write to me at authorrish01@gmail.com . Thank you for your time to read this.]

  • THE TALE OF TWO SOULS

    THE TALE OF TWO SOULS

        Once upon a time in a quaint little town, there lived two souls destined to cross paths. Emily, a free-spirited artist, and Benjamin, a charismatic writer, lived in parallel worlds until one fateful day when their lives collided.Emily spent her days lost in the vibrant strokes of her paintbrush, capturing the beauty of the world around her. Benjamin, on the other hand, poured his heart onto paper, weaving stories that ignited imaginations. Little did they know, their paths were about to intertwine in a way neither of them could have imagined.

    One sunny afternoon, Emily visited the local café, seeking inspiration for her latest masterpiece. As she entered, her eyes met the gaze of Benjamin, who sat huddled in a corner, scribbling passionately. It was as if time stood still as their souls connected. Intrigued, Emily approached him, and their conversation flowed effortlessly, like the words from Benjamin’s pen. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months as their connection grew stronger. They discovered shared dreams, hidden fears, and an unyielding passion for life. Benjamin’s stories found life on Emily’s canvas, while Emily’s paintings whispered tales that inspired Benjamin’s pen. Together, they created a symphony of art and words, a collaboration that transcended the boundaries of their individual talents.Their love bloomed like a thousand blossoms, each petal representing a moment they cherished. They danced under moonlit skies, their laughter echoing through the night. They embraced vulnerability, supported each other’s dreams, and shared the pain of past wounds, healing together.But as life often does, it presented them with an unexpected challenge. Benjamin received a life-changing opportunity to publish his first novel in a distant city. Faced with the choice between their love and their individual aspirations, they found themselves at a crossroads.

    With heavy hearts, they decided to embark on separate journeys, holding onto the belief that true love could withstand any distance. They promised to support each other’s dreams while they pursued their own.Years passed, filled with letters, phone calls, and occasional visits. Emily’s paintings adorned gallery walls, while Benjamin’s novels garnered critical acclaim. Yet, their hearts ached for the missing piece of their souls, longing for the day when they could reunite.

    And finally, destiny intervened once again. Benjamin’s book tour led him to Emily’s town, and as he stepped off the train, he felt a familiar warmth embrace him. He rushed to the gallery, where Emily was showcasing her latest collection.Their eyes met, and at that moment, time collapsed, folding upon itself. The distance, the sacrifices, the longing—all dissolved into the sea of their shared love. In each other’s arms, they found solace, knowing that their love had endured the test of time.

    From that day forward, Emily and Benjamin intertwined their lives, never to be separated again. Their love story became a legend whispered among lovers, reminding the world that love, in its purest form, conquers all obstacles.And as the years rolled by, they continued to create art that mirrored their love, inspiring generations to believe in the power of two souls destined to be together.

  • The Passenger

    I was on my way to the office sitting on the train platform. I hate how the trains never come on time, today out of all days. I had a life-changing presentation. Today the investors will decide whether they want to invest in my project. The uncertainty of it always leaves me scared. It was 8:15 in the morning, and everyone around me was dressed up in office formals trying to reach their office on time. But the summer heat is forcing everyone to take off their suits.

    After enduring a brief wait, I heard a whistle and felt the ground tremble beneath me. The approaching train cast a dark cloud of smoke into the air with its steam engine roaring. As the train neared the station, people began to gather their belongings, racing to secure the best spot. Nobody wanted to stand during their exhausting commute to the office, especially before the day had even begun.

    The train only paused for a fleeting moment, forcing passengers to hurry aboard and secure a spot. When I just got on the train, I heard a man shouting, “Please help me with my luggage or I will miss the train.” He had 4-5 bags, struggling with them, and was loading one of the entrances with his luggage when the train whistle blew; it only meant one thing, the train was about to move. I saw a glimmer of fright in his eyes and shouted back to hold my hand. Together, we leaped from the platform, landing amidst the pile of bags.

    It wasn’t until I saw him up close that I noticed his striking handsomeness. Light freckles adorned his nose, perfectly placed as if nature itself had positioned them. His curly hair possessed golden highlights, some strands gleaming under the sunlight. His locks fell gracefully onto his eyes, which captivated me like the shimmering winter moon. I must have been lost in my gaze, for I faintly heard him speak, but my attention remained solely fixated on him. As I regained my senses, I realized he was expressing gratitude. He explained that he was leaving town for work, hence the excessive luggage. Curious, he inquired about my destination and my name. “Office,” I replied, “Karla.” He introduced himself as Josh. Only two words escaped my lips, leaving me dumbfounded.

    Never before had someone left me so astonished. I had often rendered others speechless, but this was an entirely new experience. It was then I realized that my station was about to come. I wanted to miss this day in the office to talk to this man, but I had my presentation. Without further delay, I hurriedly exited the train and bid him farewell, simultaneously hoping it wouldn’t be our last encounter.

    To be continued..

  •  Nobody can imprison your mind!

    In a certain village lived a farmer name Ramsharan and his only son Rakesh. The Rakish was a thief who goes about stealing from people’s homes. He continued this wicked lifestyle till the day his cup got filled. He stole 5lakh from Motilal the richest man in their village, that day he didn’t escape successfully as he used to. The Motilal involved the police immediately he found out that his money was missing and the police started investigating, and finally they found out that the Rakish stole the money so they sent him to prison. But Rakish hide the money somewhere before he got caught.

    After some months, it was time for farming and the Ramsharan was already old and weak and can’t dig the ground anymore so the old Ramsharan wrote this letter to his son in prison. “Rakish, this year I will not plant because I can’t dig the field, I know if you were here you would have helped me”.

    The son was really touched by his father’s letter so he thought a plan, and replied his father “baba don’t even think of digging the field because that’s where I buried the money I stole”.

    The POLICEMEN on reading this letter went early in the morning and dug the whole field in search of the money but he got surprised because nothing was found.

    The next day Rakish wrote his father again “baba you can now plant this is the best I can do from here.”

    Ramsharan replied “My son, you are too powerful indeed just like your mother, even in prison you still command policemen to work for me. I was so surprised to see this and his team holding hoes and shovels, digging my farm. I will write to you when I want to harvest.”

  • The Price of Prophecy

    Weary. That was the word. They were weary. One arm leaden from the constant effort of wielding a halberd, the other’s fingers still aching from the phantom of a shield’s handle. Their body was aching from the blows dealt to their plated armour, their skin still in discomfort of the touch of chainmail. Sweaty and hot, with barely any time to cleanse themselves between battles, they grew numb to the noise and the chaos, but the aching, the itching, the patches of raw and bruised flesh all over their body… the discomfort never really went away.

    All for what? The people fought in their name, raised flags and blades in their name, to lead them to victory over their enemies. Their hero was surely just and righteous in their crusade? Surely, they were the legend many had spoken of in hushed tones?

    Their hero stopped believing in the prophecy a long time ago. It mattered not to them whether they were the hero in the stories or not, the one to break the ageless tyranny, the one to bring forth a new age for the common folk. It mattered not. They were a symbol now, regardless of whether they were truly the one. Symbols had power, power that went far deeper than many realised. The power to inspire, to raise arms for a cause that may prove to be fruitless in the end, to fight and to yearn for freedom, to give one’s life for duty, for honour, even for a sense of self.

    They were the people’s symbol. And in a sense, their own. For a sense of self was exactly what they wished for before… all of this. All of the fighting. Whether fate had dealt them this status, this place on the pedestal, whether it was a curse or a blessing, it mattered not. They were a symbol. The price paid for prophecy. A role given, a self changed, and a symbol created.

    They were weary. Horribly weary.

    But duty awaited them. And it mattered not if they wished to lay down their weapons and renounce their role, for they could not fail the ones that looked to them for hope. The harder path would be taken, yet again.

    They stood. It was time to march. Time to don their armour again.

    The hero stood. For it mattered not if they were a hero. Their legacy would define them as one to some, and a villain to the others. They were a symbol, and a symbol never falters.

    The fingers clutched the shield-handle again.

  • GILLU

    Once upon a time in Champak Forest, there lived a squirrel named Gillu. He would diligently do his work and study, and every evening, he would set out on his cycle to explore the beautiful Champak Forest. After a delightful adventure, he would return home. His mother would lovingly give him peanuts to eat because he adored them.

    One evening, as Gillu was riding his cycle, he noticed a farmer who had met with an accident and was struggling to walk. Concerned, Gillu and his friends approached the farmer and asked if they could help him. They inquired about his destination, and the farmer replied, “Dear child, I need to go to the nearby Nand Gaon. My family must be eagerly waiting for me there. Will you take me?”

    Gillu and his friends happily agreed and said, “Certainly, Uncle! But first, you need to visit the doctor.” So, they took the farmer to the doctor’s house and made sure he reached safely.

    When Gillu returned home, he excitedly shared the entire incident with his mother. His mother was proud and blessed him for his good deeds. She advised him to continue working diligently and helping others.

    After approximately a week, the farmer visited Gillu’s home. Gillu immediately recognized him and welcomed him inside, calling his mother as well. They began conversing, and as the farmer prepared to leave, he showered Gillu with blessings and gifted him a large quantity of peanuts. Overwhelmed with joy upon seeing so many peanuts, Gillu started dancing and singing.

    The moral of the story is that we should always help others because good deeds bear good fruit.

  • Mr. Turner’s Story

    Once upon a time, in a small town nestled among rolling hills, there lived a teacher named Mr. Turner. At first glance, Mr. Turner seemed like an ordinary teacher, but beneath his charming smile lay a heart consumed by selfishness.

    In his classroom, Mr. Turner’s primary focus was himself. He cared little for his students’ needs and dreams. Instead, he reveled in the praise and admiration he received from his colleagues and superiors. He would often boast about his achievements and belittle his students’ efforts, crushing their spirits in the process.

    One day, a new student named Lily arrived in Mr. Turner’s class. She had a passion for art and possessed immense talent. Excited to share her work with her classmates, she approached Mr. Turner with a trembling heart. But he dismissed her, claiming that art was frivolous and would distract her from academic excellence.

    Undeterred by Mr. Turner’s discouragement, Lily sought solace in the school’s janitor, Mr. Johnson. He was a wise and kind-hearted man who recognized her talent. Mr. Johnson encouraged Lily to pursue her passion and offered her a small corner in his maintenance room to create her art.

    Word of Lily’s talent quickly spread throughout the school, and her artwork garnered praise and admiration from students and teachers alike. Mr. Turner, consumed by jealousy, saw his own popularity waning as Lily’s star rose higher.

    One day, an art competition was announced, open to all students in the district. Lily’s classmates urged her to enter, recognizing her potential to win. Though apprehensive, she mustered the courage to submit her artwork.

    As fate would have it, Lily’s piece won first place, leaving Mr. Turner seething with anger. Unable to contain his jealousy, he confronted Lily in front of the entire school, accusing her of cheating and stealing the limelight from deserving students.

    But the students and teachers, having witnessed Mr. Turner’s selfishness and mistreatment over the years, rallied behind Lily. They defended her fiercely, exposing Mr. Turner’s true nature to the world. The school board promptly dismissed him from his teaching position, and he faded into obscurity.

    As for Lily, she continued to flourish, embracing her artistic talent and inspiring others to follow their dreams. The town’s memory of Mr. Turner served as a reminder of the importance of kindness and genuine care in education, ensuring that no selfish teacher would ever tarnish the lives of students again.

  • Between the Pages

    As a teenager, I believe that I have relived my challenging days of youth, which perhaps were not as difficult, but I feel that I have lived them again through the support of books. In today’s era, books have completely vanished people have completely forgotten to read books in this age of mobile phones. Sorry, I won’t say “vanished,” but now people prefer watching movies instead of reading books. Not many people might have read a particular novel, but if a movie or series is made based on that same novel, most people would have watched it. But why is it so? Why don’t people read books?

    When I embark on a reading journey, I find myself diving into an incredible adventure. As I turn the pages, I leave behind the constraints of my physical surroundings and enter a world brought to life by words and imagination. The characters become my friends, the settings become places I can visit, and the story becomes my guiding light. I travel through time, space, and emotions, exploring different landscapes and perspectives, all while enjoying the cozy comfort of my own thoughts.

    Books have a special kind of magic that can’t be found in any other form of media. When I read, my mind becomes a fertile garden where imagination can grow and blossom. Unlike movies or TV shows that show us fixed images, books let me imagine vibrant scenes, build detailed worlds, and shape characters in my own unique way. With each page I turn, my mind becomes an artist, painting pictures filled with sights, sounds, and emotions. This allows me to create a strong and personal connection with the story.

    Books are not old-fashioned artifacts; they are doorways that can transport us to places of understanding, empathy, and personal growth. In a world full of things vying for our attention, let’s not forget the enchantment of getting lost in the pages of a book. It is in those moments that we rediscover the incredible power of stories and the transformative magic of reading. I feel that in today’s time, everyone is glued to screens. I believe that movies are good, but books help us develop our imagination.

  • Tommy and Finley

    Once upon a time, in a small coastal town, there lived a little boy named Tommy. Tommy was a curious and imaginative child with a heart full of love for all creatures, big and small. One day, as he wandered along the seashore, he spotted a shimmering fish struggling in a tide pool. Without hesitation, Tommy scooped it up in his hands and gently released it back into the sea.

    From that day forward, a special bond formed between Tommy and the fish. He named his new friend Finley, and together they embarked on countless adventures. Tommy would spend hours at the edge of the pier, casting his fishing line, and Finley would swim around him, playfully darting in and out of the water.

    Their friendship grew stronger with each passing day. Tommy would tell Finley stories, and Finley, though unable to speak, seemed to understand every word. They shared secrets, dreams, and laughter, creating a world all their own beneath the surface of the water.

    Tommy’s love for Finley knew no bounds. He diligently cared for his fishy companion, making sure the aquarium water was just right, and feeding Finley the tastiest fish flakes he could find. Every night before bed, Tommy would lean in close to the aquarium, whispering, “Goodnight, Finley. I love you,” as Finley swam gracefully through the water, as if to say, “I love you too, Tommy.”

    Years passed, and Tommy grew older. His once small fish had become a magnificent creature, with vibrant scales that shimmered like a thousand stars. But one day, as Tommy gazed into the aquarium, he noticed Finley’s movements slowing. Panic set in as he realized that his beloved friend was getting old.

    With a heavy heart, Tommy knew it was time to set Finley free. He carefully scooped Finley out of the aquarium and returned to the familiar seashore where they had first met. Holding Finley gently in his hands, Tommy whispered tearfully, “Thank you for being my best friend, Finley. You’ll always be in my heart.”

    With a final loving stroke, Tommy gently released Finley into the vast ocean. As Finley swam away, a sense of peace washed over Tommy. He knew that he had given his friend the gift of freedom and happiness.

    Although Tommy would always cherish the memories they shared, he knew that the bond he had formed with Finley would last forever, transcending time and space. And whenever Tommy visited the seashore, he could almost hear the gentle whispers of his dear friend, reminding him that love knows no boundaries, not even between a little boy and his pet fish.

  • A broken heart

    A broken heart

    Once upon a time, in a city of Edinburg, there lived a beautiful woman named Gracy. She had a smile that could brighten the gloomiest of days and a heart filled with compassion. But behind her beautiful smile, Gracy carried a burden – a broken heart.

    Gracy was a married woman who loved her husband very much but her husband had cancer and he came to know in the very last stage. But he never told this thing to his wife because he did not wanted to see her sad, so he hid this thing from her.But after his death, his wife came to know from somewhere that her husband had died of cancer. She was sad for many months and used to cry in the memory of her husband and now she has stopped smiling like before.

    Her pain stemmed from a loss she could never truly recover from, leaving her shattered and adrift in a sea of sorrow. Since then, Gracy had tried to piece her life back together, but the weight of her grief seemed hopeless.

    Days turned into years, and the passing of time did little to heal Gracy’s wounds. She had become a mere shadow of her former self, drifting through life like a fragile leaf caught in an eternal breeze. Her once-vibrant spirit had faded, leaving her heart heavy and her smile hollow.

    People in her neighbourhood noticed the transformation in Gracy. They would see her sitting alone on a weathered bench in the park, her eyes distant, lost in memories of a love that was no longer present. Some whispered about her broken soul, wondering if it would ever mend.

    One autumn afternoon, as the leaves painted the streets with hues of gold, a young girl named Rosalie stumbled upon Gracy on her usual bench. Unlike others who passed by without a second glance, Rosalie sensed the depth of Gracy’s pain. Determined to bring a glimmer of hope into the older woman’s life, she decided to reach out.

    Rosalie approached Gracy tentatively, her voice filled with warmth and kindness. “Hello, ma’am. Would you like some company?” she asked, her eyes brimming with empathy.

    Gracy’s weary gaze met the young girl’s, and for a moment, a spark of connection flickered in her eyes. She nodded silently, and Rosalie sat beside her, offering the comfort of her presence.

    Days turned into weeks, and Rosalie continued to visit Gracy on that park bench, sharing stories and laughter. She reminded Gracy of the beauty that still existed in the world—the laughter of children, the comforting touch of a friend, and the healing power of love.

    Gradually, the cracks in Gracy’s broken heart began to mend. Through Rosalie’s unwavering friendship, Gracy discovered that her heart had the capacity to heal and find solace in the simplest of joys. The pain would never completely disappear, but she learned to carry it with grace, like a delicate flower cradled in her hands.

    Years later, as her neighbors passed by that same park bench, they saw a transformed Gracy—her smile no longer hollow, her eyes sparkling with a newfound radiance. She had become a beacon of hope for those who knew the depths of despair.

    Gracy’s broken heart had found solace through the kindness of a young girl, teaching her that even shattered pieces could be woven back together with love and compassion. And in that city, where whispers of sorrow had once filled the air, the tale of Gracy’s journey became a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.