Hmmm...

There is something about the night that always feels different. From our childhood days, we have all felt it in some way. Remember those evenings when we would sneak out with friends after dinner, just to walk down the same roads we travelled every day? In the daylight, those roads felt ordinary. But at night, they became something else. The air felt cooler, the shadows longer, and the silence louder. There was a strange mix of fear and excitement. You know the road like the back of your hand, yet in the night, it feels like you are discovering it for the first time. And then there are nights when you walk hand in hand with someone you love. The same street, the same sky, but somehow the stars seem closer, the breeze feels softer, and every silence speaks more than words can. The world slows down a little, and you just exist in that moment. So what is it about the night that makes everything feel so special? Maybe it is because the noise of the world fades away, and what remains is yo...

Fresh Tea It was a lazy Sunday morning. The kind of day when you have no big plans, just a few things lying around waiting to be done. Meera was cleaning the cupboard in their bedroom, pulling out old files, boxes, and a pile of forgotten memories. Rajesh walked in with two cups of tea. “Looks like a war zone here. Need a soldier?” he said with a smile. She laughed and nodded. As they sat together, going through old photographs and birthday cards , the room was filled with laughter and warmth. Then, from one of the boxes, Meera took out a small, gift-wrapped pen . Her smile faded. “This is the pen you brought for your boss, right?” she asked softly. Rajesh looked at it. “Yes, I think so. Why?” “You remember that fight we had after that? You said you forgot my birthday that year because of office work. But you didn’t forget to buy this pen,” she said, her tone turning sharp. Rajesh sighed. “Meera, that was fifteen years ago.” “Yes, but it still hurts,” she whispered. “You alway...