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Sangeeta Dey Roy
White Dusk slithered in gently, noiselessly spread a sumptuous feast of orange, crimson and red. I basked in the glorious spread, But before I could fully relish the feast,it closed its wings and slept. ©Sangeeta Dey Roy # the colours of dusk
# the colours of dusk
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White ............................... ©aady starting with the low to get high.
starting with the low to get high.
read moreSrinivas
In the face of shared threats, the seeds of enmity wither, and the roots of friendship grow strong ©Srinivas In the face of shared threats, the seeds of enmity wither, and the roots of friendship grow strong.
In the face of shared threats, the seeds of enmity wither, and the roots of friendship grow strong.
read moreKrishnan
The Mountain had a Story to Tell Holding Mr. Ravi Kumar's finger, little Sruthi expressed her desire to climb the mountain. Ravi Kumar loved to climb but didn't want to risk harming his little granddaughter. He looked at her and said, "My dear, you are too small to climb, and I'm too old." "Yes, I know, Grandpa, but we both have a strong mind, and that's enough, isn't it, Grandpa?" little Sruthi asked her grandfather. Ravi Kumar observed the confidence in her face and then turned his gaze to the mountain, which responded with a smile. He thought, "Such confidence at such a young age will take her places." Little Sruthi, already filled with excitement, was ecstatic as they reached the top of the mountain. She looked at her grandpa and said, "Yes, I was confident, but holding your hands gave me an assurance of safety." Tears came out of Ravi Kumar's eyes, and he hugged her. After spending some time on the mountain, they began to climb down. As they came down, little Shruthi turned back and saw the mountain smiling at her. She continued to hold Ravi Kumar's finger and hopped down the hill. Years later, Shruti is back in the same place with her son. The mountain smiled at her, and she climbed with her son. Shruti walked down the memory lanes and felt like someone holding her fingers. It wasn't her son who was sitting down on the grass. A cool breeze began to blow, and she once again felt someone holding her finger and standing beside her. Shruti turned back, looked at the mountains, wiped her tears, and said,"Oh, my dear grandpa!" She felt nostalgic. Before continuing down the hill with her son, she once again looked at the mountain. The mountain smiled at her! ©Krishnan #Mountains #nostalgic #Nostalgia #grandfather #Granddaughter
#Mountains #nostalgic #Nostalgia #grandfather #Granddaughter
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Every wave is an opportunity; the depth is only a test of how high you are willing to rise above. ©Srinivas Every wave is an opportunity; the depth is only a test of how high you are willing to rise above.
Every wave is an opportunity; the depth is only a test of how high you are willing to rise above.
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