Teach me to be soft

Teach me to be soft and nice. i know I'm rough for many reasons for that's what the way i am. i see nothing but uncertainties of my life. they inspire me to be soft, but i fail to be the one up to the expected levels of anticipated growth. i loved not, even a girl at least for the sake. i always wanted to fall in love with the uncertainties of my life and a girl of whom i never think and romanticise. i fear my future that i may fail to love her with the expected dreams of future life. i will tell her to tech me to be soft and smooth. but, i will never go through . I'm not much confident of myself. the reason why I'm rough and the way i am is nothing but i never romanticise anything in my life but the life itself.

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Hindolam: M₁

At every corner, she glimpsed him. Through the mist, she saw his figure, looking at her, the love in his eyes never fading. She tightened her grip on 'his' hand, her love, and glanced back. Sometimes she wonders, was it true? What he believed in. Whether she was his princess. But, she lost that moment. And she lived in her present, and the past, a mirage. Nothing could change her love for 'him'. She looked into 'his' eyes and all her inhibitions disappeared. She didn't hear the soft crunch of leaves behind her. She was too occupied with her love, her beliefs, with 'him'. She didn't see him steal glances at her. And sometimes, he lost her again, in the mist, in the blur, in the obscurity. But he always found her, for his love for her burned in his heart, a bright flame. She gave him the key to his freedom, but he flung it away. He chose his way of life, he wanted to chase her forever. He would never give up. His incessant pursuit fascinated her, ...

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Nothing was left untouched. Every stone was overturned, every grain of sand displaced. The monstrous beauty of the Earth transforming into a perfect haven for living organisms was a grand saga of evolution—an orchestration by the Unknown. As a child then, and an adult now, my timeless reverie has been to envision this orchestration—to witness how the Earth journeyed from the most hostile to the most hospitable. I have, time and again, tried to comprehend evolution and the mysterious forces that harmonized to weave the very fabric of life. As I grew, I found myself entangled in the same fabric of evolution—fulfilling its purpose. I began to see how I, too, evolved through the people who crossed my path, the events that unfolded, and the moments that shaped me. Everything seemed to work in silent precision, scripting the being I was meant to become. Should I resist it—or embrace it? I find resistance meaningless, for everything appears perfectly programmed by time and space. Can I truly ...

Hindolam: Ṡ

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