The air in the village of Amarnathpur was thick and heavy. It smelled of crushed marigold flowers, stinging camphor, and that damp, metallic scent the
Rohan was not the kind of student who usually stood first in class. He worked hard, completed his homework on time, and respected his teachers,
In the quiet town of Anandpur, Valentine’s Day arrived not with grand celebrations but with small red decorations in shop windows and handwritten offers pasted
Long ago, in a peaceful Indian kingdom surrounded by green hills and mango orchards, there lived a king known for his unusual curiosity. He liked
The late afternoon sun hung low above the dusty grounds of a small village mela. Stalls lined the open field—colorful bangles, sweets dripping with syrup,
The village of Neelpur was slowly dying of thirst. Not a sudden death, but a long, unrelenting fading. The mighty River Varuna, which had given
The afternoon sun warmed the side of the train as it moved across the wide countryside. Trees lined the track like green ribbons, and small
Rohan lived a quiet, dusty life in the village of Ambar. His days followed the same predictable path, like a well-worn track leading nowhere new.
The small temple of Maa Ganga stood high on a hill overlooking the village of Dhampur. Its stone walls were worn smooth by the rain
Aarav was a young boy who dreamed of becoming a great painter. Every evening, he would scroll through social media and stare at beautiful artworks.
