Every time I read a beautiful book that truly inspires me, retains my attention and makes me think of it after I’ve once read it. I keep on thinking, imagining situations, making hypothetical situations and living an unreal yet happy life.
A book has all. It has the strength to change your mood, it can make you think differently and suddenly make you cry from within. And just after a few pages it makes you laugh like you never did before.
In short, a book can make a dream come true. A book can be a tool to make some of your best dreams possible which would otherwise be impossible. So your book, is not just your book. I really wonder, how could a few writer create their own world and make so many character in it. And every other person that reads the book remember the character. May be when two strangers meet, and they happen to have read the same book, suddenly start talking about it. So they are absolutely no strangers.
I have a great desire to write a book once in my life. When I read my own post, i really try hard to imagine does my writing has any of the writer thing?
Why am I so shy to share my story to the world?
Why do I need to be anonymous to share whats the real me?
What am I afraid of ?
So today, I call every writer out there, who come to read this post, Please share your story here. Be bold and remove that anonymous tag, because your story will bring you another life.
One day when I was in a hurry I got hurt my feet with a stone. I lost my temper and decided to throw it, at least for that very moment. As I bend to pick it up and throw it, I saw a small mustard plant coming out from the gap between stones. I decided not to disturb it.
But one thought continuously came in my mind. I was wondering that may be a few mustard seeds have fallen in the gap. It got water shower and fortunately day light and some air … Everything that’s needed for a seed to grow into a plant. But the seed has fallen over a rough stony surface.
This was sounding similar to birth of a child… He may be born in a well to do family or he may be born in a starving family.
But I was shocked at the decision of this seed which decided to continue with its life cycle from the very beginning. I felt the difficulty the soft buds must have faced when it must have pushed itself up through the stones. But the mustard plant never gave up. I looked at it regularly but I couldn’t find any indication of tension , worry, tiredness or even an Idea of retreat despite such burden of constant struggle.
Days passed. Every morning when the sun transcend the sky, it’s tiny leafs would glow naturally. With every passing day of winter, small yellow flower started blooming. Despite such difficulty, the small mustard plant was successful in its effort and will to life his life and accepting every challenges.
Sometimes I feel that this could’ve only been possible because they just do what needs to be done. They don’t think too much and worry.
When you’ve even a little faith in you and you’re willing to go on with it.. then god gives you the strength and faith that’s needed. With every effort which you put in, the thought to retreat vanishes!
Finally when this plant grew to its fullest, I just loved it’s beauty ! As if All the scars vanished and just beauty was left!
Sitting on this boat Varun was swinging was legs across the cold water. He was gazing continuously at the endless water till the point where the skyline met the sea. Small-Small fishes and other insects were playing around his legs, tickling as he slowly moved his legs. May be they have sensed a friend in Varun. Birds flew across the sun, boats which were busy catching fishes were so far away that they hardly appeared moving. Chirping of birds coming from somewhere… All this seemed to take away this tensed, always thinking something kind of Varun into an another world, maybe into Imagination…
As the cold breeze flew across his ears towards his neck and cheeks, As the fishes played below his legs, tickling him… A shiver went through him. He pulled his arms closer to himself, hugged himself tight and as he rubbed his cheeks over his velvet collared jacket. Suddenly he felt his fast heartbeats travelling throughout his body. This was exactly the time, Varun started thinking of Shweta. Breathing heavily he lifted his face and a drop of tear fell from his eyes into the water, right above the fishes as he gazed through the water to the point where the skyline met the sea. He felt himself shivering, a painful memory started to rise within. Just like every other time, he closed his eyes and started tying to recall his memories, and never miss a moment…