Saturday, 12 April 2025

The Spiritual Journey of Ram

 By Saakshi


Ram was an ordinary person trying to understand the meaning and purpose of life. He had become so entangled in his daily life that he had never deeply thought about his existence and mortality. One day, while sitting in a library, he read a book that changed his life. The book stated that the purpose of life is self-development and self-realization, and death is just a state, not the end of life.

Ram tried to understand this idea deeply and decided to bring positive changes in his life. He started practicing meditation and yoga, which brought peace and satisfaction to his mind and soul. He redefined his values and priorities to make his life simple and meaningful.

Gradually, Ram started overcoming his fears and uncertainties, including the fear of death. He understood that death is a part of life, and the purpose of life is not determined by death, but by how we live it. Ram decided to live his life to the fullest and tried to make every moment meaningful and joyful.

One day, when Ram was at the final stage of his life, he felt that the fear of death had completely disappeared from his mind. He understood that life and death are two sides of the same coin, and the purpose of life is self-realization and self-development. Ram thanked his life and accepted death as a new beginning.

Ram's experience teaches us that personality development involves:

Self-realization: Understanding oneself and knowing one's values and priorities.

Positive thinking: Looking at life with a positive attitude and controlling one's thoughts.

Habits: Building good habits and avoiding bad ones.

Nature: Incorporating gentleness, politeness, and sweetness into one's nature.

Values: Adopting good values and avoiding bad ones.

Ram's story shows us that to make life meaningful and joyful, we need to understand ourselves and direct our lives in a positive way.


 ЁЯЦХЁЯЦХ

рдЗрд╕ рддрд░рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдлреЛрдЯреЛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде, рд╕реБрд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░ рдкрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреНрд▓рд┐рдХрдХрд░реЗрдВ: https://kutumbapp.page.link/gsp6axrTYK8D2XY26

It's over four years we've been trying to inspire people to compile their life history in any language, based on 'Kutumb' quotes. To set an example, BSR began to compile his own in Kannada language, that's yet to be completed.

Majority in the community opine that it's easier to write a short story based on a single quote. That's what's done here for those who prefer to go through, either in English or Hindi language.

рд░рд╛рдо рдХреА рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдорд┐рдХ рдпрд╛рддреНрд░рд╛

рд░рд╛рдо рдПрдХ рд╕рд╛рдзрд╛рд░рдг рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐ рдерд╛, рдЬреЛ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЗ рдЕрд░реНрде рдФрд░ рдЙрджреНрджреЗрд╢реНрдп рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рдерд╛ред рд╡рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рджреИрдирд┐рдХ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдореЗрдВ рдЗрддрдирд╛ рдЙрд▓рдЭ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдХрднреА рднреА рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЧрд╣рд░рд╛рдИ рд╕реЗ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕реЛрдЪрд╛ рдерд╛ред рдПрдХ рджрд┐рди, рдПрдХ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХрд╛рд▓рдп рдореЗрдВ рдмреИрдареЗ рд╣реБрдП, рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдПрдХ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рдкрдврд╝реА рдЬрд┐рд╕рдиреЗ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рдмрджрд▓ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ред рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдЙрджреНрджреЗрд╢реНрдп рдЖрддреНрдо-рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рдЖрддреНрдо-рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рд╣реИ, рдФрд░ рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рдХреЗрд╡рд▓ рдПрдХ рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рд╣реИ, рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрдд рдирд╣реАрдВред

рд░рд╛рдо рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдЧрд╣рд░рд╛рдИ рд╕реЗ рд╕рдордЭрдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХреА рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдХрд╛рд░рд╛рддреНрдордХ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд░реНрддрди рд▓рд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдлреИрд╕рд▓рд╛ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдзреНрдпрд╛рди рдФрд░ рдпреЛрдЧ рдХрд╛ рдЕрднреНрдпрд╛рд╕ рд╢реБрд░реВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛, рдЬрд┐рд╕рд╕реЗ рдЙрд╕реЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдорди рдФрд░ рдЖрддреНрдорд╛ рдХреЛ рд╢рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрддреБрд╖реНрдЯрд┐ рдорд┐рд▓реАред рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рд╕рд░рд▓ рдФрд░ рдЕрд░реНрдердкреВрд░реНрдг рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдердорд┐рдХрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреБрдирдГ рдкрд░рд┐рднрд╛рд╖рд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред

рдзреАрд░реЗ-рдзреАрд░реЗ, рд░рд╛рдо рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдбрд░ рдФрд░ рдЕрдирд┐рд╢реНрдЪрд┐рддрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЛ рджреВрд░ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╢реБрд░реВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛, рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рдХрд╛ рдбрд░ рднреА рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рдерд╛ред рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рд╕рдордЭрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕рд╛ рд╣реИ, рдФрд░ рдпрд╣ рдХрд┐ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдЙрджреНрджреЗрд╢реНрдп рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рд╕реЗ рдирд╣реАрдВ, рдмрд▓реНрдХрд┐ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рдЬреАрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рддрд░реАрдХреЗ рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рд░реНрдзрд╛рд░рд┐рдд рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рд╣реИред рд░рд╛рдо рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рдкреВрд░реА рддрд░рд╣ рд╕реЗ рдЬреАрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдлреИрд╕рд▓рд╛ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛, рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╣рд░ рдкрд▓ рдХреЛ рдЕрд░реНрдердкреВрд░реНрдг рдФрд░ рдЖрдирдВрджрдордп рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХреАред

рдПрдХ рджрд┐рди, рдЬрдм рд░рд╛рдо рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЗ рдЕрдВрддрд┐рдо рдкрдбрд╝рд╛рд╡ рдкрд░ рдерд╛, рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдорд╣рд╕реВрд╕ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рдХрд╛ рдбрд░ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдорди рд╕реЗ рдкреВрд░реА рддрд░рд╣ рд╕реЗ рд╕рдорд╛рдкреНрдд рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИред рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рд╕рдордЭрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдФрд░ рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рд╣реА рдПрдХ рд╣реА рд╕рд┐рдХреНрдХреЗ рдХреЗ рджреЛ рдкрд╣рд▓реВ рд╣реИрдВ, рдФрд░ рдпрд╣ рдХрд┐ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдЙрджреНрджреЗрд╢реНрдп рдЖрддреНрдо-рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рдФрд░ рдЖрддреНрдо-рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рд╣реИред рд░рд╛рдо рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рдзрдиреНрдпрд╡рд╛рдж рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдореГрддреНрдпреБ рдХреЛ рдПрдХ рдирдП рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреА рд╢реБрд░реБрдЖрдд рдХреЗ рд░реВрдк рдореЗрдВ рд╕реНрд╡реАрдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред

рд░рд╛рдо рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрднрд╡ рд╕реЗ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╣ рд╕реАрдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЛ рдорд┐рд▓рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдирд┐рд░реНрдорд╛рдг рдореЗрдВ рдирд┐рдореНрдирд▓рд┐рдЦрд┐рдд рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рд╣реИрдВ:

рдЖрддреНрдо-рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди: рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЖрдк рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдердорд┐рдХрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЛ рдЬрд╛рдирдирд╛ред

рд╕рдХрд╛рд░рд╛рддреНрдордХ рдЪрд┐рдВрддрди: рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рд╕рдХрд╛рд░рд╛рддреНрдордХ рджреГрд╖реНрдЯрд┐рдХреЛрдг рд╕реЗ рджреЗрдЦрдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдирд┐рдпрдВрддреНрд░рд┐рдд рдХрд░рдирд╛ред

рдЖрджрддреЗрдВ: рдЕрдЪреНрдЫреА рдЖрджрддреЗрдВ рдмрдирд╛рдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдмреБрд░реА рдЖрджрддреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдмрдЪрдирд╛ред

рд╕реНрд╡рднрд╛рд╡: рд╢рд╛рд▓реАрдирддрд╛, рд╢рд┐рд╖реНрдЯрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдордзреБрд░рддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╕реНрд╡рднрд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рдХрд░рдирд╛ред

рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░: рдЕрдЪреНрдЫреЗ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЕрдкрдирд╛рдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдмреБрд░реЗ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдмрдЪрдирд╛ред

рд░рд╛рдо рдХреА рдХрд╣рд╛рдиреА рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╣ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛рддреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рдЕрд░реНрдердкреВрд░реНрдг рдФрд░ рдЖрдирдВрджрдордп рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЖрдк рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЛ рд╕рдХрд╛рд░рд╛рддреНрдордХ рджрд┐рд╢рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд▓реЗ рдЬрд╛рдирд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред

Friday, 11 April 2025

The Story of Struggle

 By Saakshi


That day, the sky was overcast, and there was an eerie silence in the air. Ria, a little girl, was standing outside her house when she saw that her father's shop was on fire. She ran towards the shop, but the fire was too intense, and she couldn't do anything.

Ria's father had invested all his savings in that shop. He was a small businessman, struggling to make ends meet for his family. The fire had destroyed all his hopes and dreams. When Ria saw her father crying, and she understood that this was a huge challenge for him. But she also saw that her father hadn't given up. He began to smile, even amidst the ruins of the fire.

Ria asked her father, "Papa, what will we do now?" Her father replied, "We will start again, daughter. Struggle is a part of life, and we have to face every challenge." Ria understood her father's words and started again with him. They opened a small shop and restarted their business. This time, they worked even harder and achieved their goals.

Ria learned that struggle is a part of life, and we have to face every challenge. But she also learned that struggle makes us strong and confident, and it motivates us to achieve our goals.

The Victory of Struggle

Ria's father's shop was reopened, and his business was more successful than ever. Ria saw that her father's smile had returned, and he was happy with his family. Ria had understood that struggle is a part of life, but she had also learned that it makes us strong and confident. She knew that there would be many more challenges in life, but she was ready.

This story is a testament to the human spirit's ability to overcome adversity and emerge stronger. Ria and her father's journey is an inspiration to anyone facing challenges in their own life.

 ЁЯЦХЁЯЦХ

рдЗрд╕ рддрд░рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдлреЛрдЯреЛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде, рд╕реБрд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░ рдкрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреНрд▓рд┐рдХрдХрд░реЗрдВ: https://kutumbapp.page.link/gsp6axrTYK8D2XY26

It's over four years we've been trying to inspire people to compile their life history in any language, based on 'Kutumb' quotes. To set an example, BSR began to compile his own in Kannada language, that's yet to be completed.

Majority in the community opine that it's easier to write a short story based on a single quote. That's what's done here for those who prefer to go through, either in English or Hindi language.

рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рдХреА рдХрд╣рд╛рдиреА

рдЙрд╕ рджрд┐рди, рдЖрдХрд╛рд╢ рдореЗрдВ рдмрд╛рджрд▓ рдЫрд╛рдП рд╣реБрдП рдереЗ рдФрд░ рд╣рд╡рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдЕрдЬреАрдм рд╕реА рд╢рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдереАред рд░рд┐рдпрд╛, рдПрдХ рдЫреЛрдЯреА рд╕реА рд▓рдбрд╝рдХреА, рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдШрд░ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рдЦрдбрд╝реА рдереА, рдЬрдм рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдХреА рджреБрдХрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдЧ рд▓рдЧ рдЧрдИ рд╣реИред рд╡рд╣ рджреМрдбрд╝рдХрд░ рджреБрдХрд╛рди рдХреА рдУрд░ рдЧрдИ, рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЖрдЧ рдЗрддрдиреА рднрдпрдВрдХрд░ рдереА рдХрд┐ рд╡рд╣ рдХреБрдЫ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░ рд╕рдХрддреА рдереАред

рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕рд╛рд░реА рдЬрдорд╛ рдкреВрдВрдЬреА рдЙрд╕ рджреБрдХрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд░рдЦреА рдереАред рд╡рд╣ рдПрдХ рдЫреЛрдЯреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕рд╛рдпреА рдереЗ, рдЬреЛ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдкрд╛рд▓рди-рдкреЛрд╖рдг рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗред рдЖрдЧ рдиреЗ рдЙрдирдХреА рд╕рд╛рд░реА рдЙрдореНрдореАрджреЗрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕рдкрдиреЗ рдЬрд▓рд╛ рджрд┐рдП рдереЗред

рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЛ рд░реЛрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рджреЗрдЦрд╛, рдФрд░ рд╡рд╣ рд╕рдордЭ рдЧрдИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХрд┐рддрдиреА рдмрдбрд╝реА рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рд╣реИред рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рднреА рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдиреЗ рд╣рд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдорд╛рдиреА рдереАред рд╡рд╣ рдЖрдЧ рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рдХрд▓реЗ рдЦрдВрдбрд╣рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рджреЗрдЦрдХрд░ рднреА рдореБрд╕реНрдХрд░рд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗред

рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рд╕реЗ рдкреВрдЫрд╛, "рдкрд╛рдкрд╛, рдЕрдм рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдХрд░реЗрдВрдЧреЗ?" рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛, "рд╣рдо рдлрд┐рд░ рд╕реЗ рд╢реБрд░реВ рдХрд░реЗрдВрдЧреЗ, рдмреЗрдЯреАред рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рд╣реА рдЬреАрд╡рди рд╣реИ, рдФрд░ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд░ рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред"

рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╕рдордЭ рд▓реА рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдорд┐рд▓рдХрд░ рдлрд┐рд░ рд╕реЗ рд╢реБрд░реВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдПрдХ рдЫреЛрдЯреА рд╕реА рджреБрдХрд╛рди рдЦреЛрд▓реА рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕рд╛рдп рдХреЛ рдлрд┐рд░ рд╕реЗ рд╢реБрд░реВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред рдЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рд░, рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд╕реЗ рднреА рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рдореЗрд╣рдирдд рдХреА рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдкреНрдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред

рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдиреЗ рд╕реАрдЦрд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕рд╛ рд╣реИ, рдФрд░ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд░ рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рднреА рд╕реАрдЦрд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдордЬрдмреВрдд рдФрд░ рдЖрддреНрдорд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕реА рдмрдирд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ, рдФрд░ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдкреНрдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдкреНрд░реЗрд░рд┐рдд рдХрд░рддрд╛ рд╣реИред

рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рдХреА рдЬреАрдд

рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдХреА рджреБрдХрд╛рди рдлрд┐рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЦреБрд▓ рдЧрдИ рдереА, рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕рд╛рдп рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд╕реЗ рднреА рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рд╕рдлрд▓ рдерд╛ред рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдиреЗ рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдХреА рдореБрд╕реНрдХрд░рд╛рд╣рдЯ рдлрд┐рд░ рд╕реЗ рд╡рд╛рдкрд╕ рдЖ рдЧрдИ рдереА, рдФрд░ рд╡рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЦреБрд╢ рдереЗред

рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдиреЗ рд╕рдордЭ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕рд╛ рд╣реИ, рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рднреА рд╕реАрдЦрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдордЬрдмреВрдд рдФрд░ рдЖрддреНрдорд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕реА рдмрдирд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИред рд╡рд╣ рдЬрд╛рдирддреА рдереА рдХрд┐ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдЧреЗ рднреА рдХрдИ рдЪреБрдиреМрддрд┐рдпрд╛рдБ рдЖрдПрдВрдЧреА, рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╡рд╣ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдереАред

* * * * *

Thursday, 10 April 2025

The Rainy Day

 By Saakshi


The sky was a deep, foreboding grey, and the air was thick with the scent of wet earth. The first droplets of rain began to fall, pattering against the pavement like a thousand tiny drums. The travelers, caught off guard, quickly scrambled for cover.

Ava and Max, two friends on a journey, huddled together under a small awning. They had been walking for hours, and the rain was a welcome respite from the heat. But as the droplets grew larger and more insistent, they knew they had to find shelter.

As they looked around, they spotted a small caf├й nearby. The sign above the door read "Cozy Cup" and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted out into the rain-soaked air. They dashed inside, shaking the water from their hair and clothes.

Inside, the caf├й was warm and cozy. The walls were adorned with vintage posters and the furniture was a mix of old and new. Ava and Max settled into a corner table, watching the rain through the large windows.

As they sipped their coffee, they talked about their journey. They had been traveling for weeks, exploring the countryside and meeting new people. The rain outside created a sense of intimacy, and they found themselves sharing stories and laughter.

The caf├й's owner, a kind-eyed woman named Sophia, joined them at their table. She regaled them with tales of the caf├й's history and the town's secrets. As the rain continued to fall outside, Ava and Max felt like they had stumbled upon a hidden gem.

As the storm passed, the sun began to peek through the clouds. Ava and Max finished their coffee, thanked Sophia, and stepped back out into the rain-washed world. The air was fresh and clean, and the world seemed full of possibilities.

They continued on their journey, hand in hand, with the memory of the cozy caf├й and the warm conversation lingering in their hearts.

The Journey Continues

As they walked, the rain-soaked streets seemed to sparkle with a newfound beauty. The trees, once green and lush, now stood tall and refreshed. The world was full of wonder, and Ava and Max felt grateful to be experiencing it together.

Their journey was far from over, but for now, they were content to walk hand in hand, taking in the sights and sounds of the world around them. The rain may have been unpredictable, but their adventure was just beginning.

Unwavering Bond

 By Saakshi


Ramesh and Sujata's love story began like any other. They met in college, fell deeply in love, and got married soon after. But their blissful life took an unexpected turn when Sujata started showing symptoms of schizophrenia.

At first, Ramesh didn't know what was happening. Sujata would get agitated for no reason, hear voices, and see things that weren't there. He felt helpless, not knowing how to support his wife. But he refused to give up on her.

As the years went by, Ramesh became Sujata's rock. He took care of her, managed her medication, and stood by her through every episode. He learned to recognize the signs of an impending breakdown and would do everything in his power to calm her down.

Despite the challenges, Ramesh never lost sight of the woman he fell in love with. He saw beyond her illness, and his love for her only grew stronger. He encouraged her to pursue her passions, even when her condition made it difficult.

Sujata, in turn, was grateful for Ramesh's unwavering support. She knew she couldn't have made it without him. On good days, she would surprise him with small gestures тАУ a cooked meal, a drawing, or a heartfelt letter.

As the decades passed, Ramesh and Sujata grew old together. Their love remained a constant, even as Sujata's condition ebbed and flowed. Ramesh's hair turned gray, and his steps slowed, but his devotion to Sujata never wavered.

One day, as they sat on their porch, holding hands, and watching the sunset, Sujata turned to Ramesh and said, "I'm sorry." Ramesh looked at her, puzzled, and asked, "What are you sorry for, my love?" Sujata's eyes welled up with tears as she replied, "For putting you through all this."

Ramesh's face lit up with a warm smile. He gently squeezed her hand and said, "You're my life, Sujata. Every moment with you, every struggle, every triumph тАУ it's all been worth it. I wouldn't trade our life together for anything in the world."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Ramesh and Sujata sat in comfortable silence, their hands entwined, their hearts full of love and gratitude for the 50 years they shared.

Tuesday, 8 April 2025

SUCCESS

 By Saakshi


The Facade

Alexandra "Alex" Thompson stood in front of her floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the city skyline. She was the epitome of success, with a thriving business and a luxurious penthouse apartment. But beneath the surface, she felt empty and disconnected.

As she turned to leave for a charity gala, her eyes landed on a photo of her family. Her parents had always pushed her to succeed, and she had done just that. But at what cost?

Exploitation

Javier "Javi" Morales was a single father working multiple jobs to make ends meet. He had been struggling to provide for his daughter, Sophia, since his wife passed away.

One day, Javi received an eviction notice from his landlord, Alex's company. He was devastated. How could a corporation be so heartless?

The Catalyst

Dr. Sophia Patel was a social worker who had dedicated her life to helping marginalized communities. She met Javi at a community center, where he was seeking assistance.

She was moved by Javi's story and decided to help him fight the eviction. She introduced him to a local lawyer who took on his case pro bono.

Realization

Alex attended the charity gala, where she met Dr. Patel. They struck up a conversation, and Dr. Patel shared Javi's story with Alex.

For the first time, Alex saw the human impact of her business decisions. She began to question her motivations and the true cost of her success.

Transformation

Alex started to make amends by working with Dr. Patel on a project to provide affordable housing for low-income families. She also began to reevaluate her business practices, prioritizing fairness and compassion.

Javi's case went to court, and with Dr. Patel's support, he was able to stay in his home. He continued to fight for his rights and became an advocate for affordable housing.

The New Path

As Alex continued on her journey, she faced challenges and setbacks. But she remained committed to creating positive change.

Javi's story inspired others to share their struggles, and a community began to form around the issue of affordable housing. Alex and Javi's paths crossed again, and they found a way to work together towards a common goal.

Epilogue

Years later, Alex stood in front of a newly completed affordable housing project. She looked out at the faces of the people who had benefited from her efforts.

She thought back to the day she realized the harm she had caused. It was a turning point in her life, one that had led her to this moment.

Alex smiled, feeling a sense of pride and purpose. She had finally found a way to make a positive impact, and it was all thanks to the people who had challenged her to see the world differently.

Saturday, 5 April 2025

The Unifier

 By Saakshi


The once-peaceful society had turned into a battleground. The Residents' Welfare Association (RWA) was divided into two groups, each with its own agenda. One group, led by the corrupt and cunning Secretary, Sharma, was only interested in lining their own pockets. They would embezzle funds, favor their own friends and family, and disregard the needs of the residents.

The other group, led by the well-intentioned but hot-headed President, Kumar, was determined to expose Sharma's wrongdoings. However, their methods were often confrontational, leading to heated arguments and clashes.

As the conflict escalated, the residents suffered. Maintenance was neglected, amenities were lacking, and the once-harmonious community was now on the brink of collapse.

Enter 75-year-old retired teacher, Mr. Joshi. A long-time resident of the society, he had watched the drama unfold with growing concern. Despite his advanced age, Mr. Joshi was sharp, wise, and respected by all.

One day, Mr. Joshi decided to take matters into his own hands. He began by inviting Sharma and Kumar for separate cups of tea. Over steaming cups, he listened to their perspectives, nodding sympathetically and asking gentle questions.

As the days went by, Mr. Joshi continued to meet with both groups, slowly but surely planting seeds of doubt and reflection. He shared stories of his own experiences as a teacher, highlighting the importance of empathy, cooperation, and fairness.

Sharma, initially resistant to Mr. Joshi's words, began to feel a twinge of guilt. He realized that his actions were not only harming the residents but also his own reputation. Kumar, too, started to see the futility of his confrontational approach and began to consider alternative strategies.

As the weeks passed, the tension between the two groups began to dissipate. Sharma started to make amends, returning misappropriated funds and apologizing to the residents. Kumar, meanwhile, adopted a more collaborative approach, working with Sharma to address the society's pressing issues.

The residents, sensing the shift in atmosphere, began to come together. They organized community events, volunteered for maintenance work, and rediscovered the joy of living in a harmonious society.

Mr. Joshi watched with a warm heart as the society transformed. He had single-handedly brought about a revolution, not through confrontation or aggression, but through gentle persuasion, empathy, and wisdom.

As the residents gathered to celebrate their newfound peace, they turned to Mr. Joshi with gratitude. "You are the unsung hero of our society," Kumar said, his voice choked with emotion. Sharma nodded in agreement, adding, "We are forever in your debt, Mr. Joshi."

Mr. Joshi smiled, his eyes twinkling. "No debts, no heroes," he said. "We are all neighbors, and it is our duty to look out for each other."

And with that, the society continued to thrive, a testament to the power of compassion, wisdom, and community spirit.

 As time passed, the society continued to flourish. Sharma, once the embodiment of corruption, had transformed into a responsible and transparent leader. Kumar, too, had mellowed down, his passion now channeled into constructive work.

Mr. Joshi, satisfied with the progress, slowly began to take a backseat. He would still attend the occasional RWA meeting, offering guidance and wisdom when needed. However, he spent most of his days tending to his garden, reading books, and enjoying the quiet comforts of life.

One day, as Mr. Joshi was watering his plants, he received an unexpected visit from Sharma. The former corrupt Secretary looked nervous, fidgeting with his hands.

"Mr. Joshi, I've come to thank you," Sharma said, his voice sincere. "You showed me the path to redemption. I was blinded by my own greed, but you helped me see the error of my ways."

Mr. Joshi smiled, his eyes warm with affection. "You're welcome, my son," he said. "We all make mistakes. It takes courage to acknowledge and correct them."

Sharma nodded, a look of determination on his face. "I want to do more, Mr. Joshi. I want to help others who are struggling, just like I was."

Mr. Joshi's face lit up with pride. "That's the spirit, Sharma! You've come a long way, and I have no doubt you'll continue to grow."

As Sharma left, Mr. Joshi couldn't help but feel a sense of fulfillment. He had not only transformed his own society but had also inspired others to follow in his footsteps.


The years went by, and Mr. Joshi's legend grew. People from neighboring societies would come to seek his advice, and he would gladly share his wisdom. The once-reticent Mr. Joshi had become a respected leader, a symbol of hope and transformation.


And as he sat on his porch, surrounded by the beauty of nature, Mr. Joshi knew that his life had been worth living. He had made a difference, and that was all that truly mattered.

The Unseen Harvest

 By Saakshi

Image courtesy: www.researchgate.net

In a small village surrounded by lush green fields, a young mother named Maya gave birth to a healthy baby boy named Aarav. Maya was overjoyed, and her love for Aarav knew no bounds. She spent every waking moment caring for him, feeding him, and nurturing him.

Tragedy struck one fateful day when Aarav fell ill after feeding from Maya. Despite the best efforts of the village doctors, Aarav's condition rapidly deteriorated, and he passed away, leaving Maya and the entire village in shock and grief.

As the truth began to unravel, it became clear that the root cause of Aarav's death was the presence of toxic pesticides in Maya's blood, which had been passed on to Aarav through her milk. The pesticides had seeped into the food chain through the excessive use of chemicals in the village fields.

The village was plagued by the devastating consequences of unchecked pesticide use. Crops may have been healthier, but the true cost was the health and lives of the people.

Maya's world shattered into a million pieces as she held Aarav's lifeless body in her arms. The pain was suffocating, and she felt like she was drowning in a sea of grief. She couldn't comprehend how something so precious and pure could be taken away from her.

As the reality of her loss sunk in, Maya's emotions erupted like a volcano. She screamed, she cried, and she wailed, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. Her family and friends tried to comfort her, but nothing could ease the anguish that threatened to consume her.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Maya's grief didn't subside, but she slowly began to find a new purpose. She realized that Aarav's death couldn't be in vain. She wanted to ensure that no other mother had to suffer the same fate.

Image Courtesy: www.researchgate.net

Maya started volunteering with a local organization that worked on creating awareness about the dangers of pesticide use. She shared her story with anyone who would listen, hoping to inspire change.

As she delved deeper into her work, Maya discovered a new sense of purpose. She became a vocal advocate for sustainable farming practices and safe food production. Her message resonated with people from all walks of life, and soon, she was invited to speak at conferences and events across the country.

Maya's journey as a social worker wasn't easy. There were days when the pain of her loss felt overwhelming, and she wondered if she had the strength to continue. But every time she looked at a photo of Aarav, she found the courage to keep going.

Years went by, and Maya's efforts began to bear fruit. The government implemented stricter regulations on pesticide use, and more farmers started adopting organic farming methods. Maya's organization grew, and she was able to help thousands of people access safe and healthy food.

One day, as Maya stood on a stage, addressing a crowd of hundreds, she felt Aarav's presence around her. She knew that he was smiling down on her, proud of the woman she had become and the difference she was making.

Maya's voice cracked as she spoke, but she didn't let her emotions overwhelm her. Instead, she let them fuel her passion, her conviction, and her commitment to creating a better world.

As the crowd erupted in applause, Maya smiled, knowing that Aarav's legacy lived on through her.


The Spiritual Journey of Ram

  By Saakshi R am was an ordinary person trying to understand the meaning and purpose of life. He had become so entangled in his daily life ...