A Scoop of Sunshine

The arid parts of the country longed for the rains. The sky so dry, reflected the parched barren ground. All signs of life were remotely preserved. The days were long and hot, and the nights were too short. The locals believed that the sun spread special rays for this region. They considered this a blessing. The sun scorched the earth for 45 days and at the end of that time, the peacock danced in the secret garden and rain would fall to quench the thirst of this dry land.

The tiger eye glistens, urging Troy to make a move. Years of travel allowed him to explore so many new lands, learn a wealth of lessons, feed his wide-eyed thirst for the unknown.

মার মেডিকেল চেম্বার হাওড়া নদীর বাঁধের ওপার এক ছোট্ট শহরে ছিল। কলেজের ছুটিতে বাড়িতে এসে বাবা-মার সাথে আমিও জেতাম প্রতি সন্ধ্যা সেই শহরে। মাকে চেম্বারে ছেড়ে, বাবা আর আমি জেতাম ইভনিং ওয়াকে।

Traversing through the wilderness, Troy spotted the moon behind the clouds. There was a mystic aura about it, as if it had the power to heal a thousand scars. The moonlight lit the distance he needed to cover, but the grey clouds hid the way.

"That's the mountain where fire goes to sleep", said one of the old locals, "Nobody goes there after sun down." René listened with intent. He drove this far along the dusky road to reach the village, which lay at the foothills of the mountain. The waters from a nearby stream added a sparkling sound to the misty mountain air. He picked up his back-pack and walked into the small hut, his base, for the next few days.

শারদত্সবের আমেজে মোহন দাদা মেতে উঠেছিল। নিজের দৈনন্দিন কাজের ফাঁকে এই কয়টা দিনে সে দুর্গাপূজার আয়োজন এবং অনুষ্ঠানে যোগদান দিয়ে সমস্ত কিছু আমোদ প্রমোদে ভুলিয়ে দিত। পূজোর শেষে শারদীয়া যাত্রাপালা দেখা তার বাত্সরিক রীতি ছিল। প্রত্যেকবারের মত এইবার ও সন্ধ্যারতির শেষে মোহন দাদা ও তার বনধু সাইকেল বের করে যাত্রা দেখতে রওয়ানা হল।

Sara was sitting on the usual arm chair in her room, looking out of the window at the lawn outside. It was a pleasant sunny day, the grass green and sky blue, a lonely bird sang a tune on the branch of a nearby tree.

Seeing my colleague rush off from work after he got a call from his daughter's daycare that she isn't well, immediately put me on a flashback mode.

Grumpie Seriousnote was on a rather somber mood, "What is happening to this world? Another hostage situation, another struggle to meet no ends, Sigh!! And they say it is holiday season, festive time..huh."

Part 1:  The North Wind Part 2:  The Tiger Eye Part 3:  Mystical Butterfly This is Part 4 finale of the series. ********************************************************************************* The stars were contemplating to drowse off in the early Autumn sky. There was a cool morning breeze, and the breeze ushered in a Traveler back home. A girl stepped out of a car. She was fair, with streaks of dark brown hair. The old bells at the gate chimed softly. An old man tucked in his bed, deep asleep, opened his eyes and looked towards the door through which faint light came into his room. And there was a sparkle in his old green eyes, a soft smile flashing across his lips.

Part 1: The North Wind Part 2: The Tiger Eye This is Part 3 of the series. ********************************************************************************* In the foothills of the great mountains, lay an ancient mystic land where peace prevails and tranquility rules, all beings, big or small, respected. Amidst the lush greenery, the pure waters and the sweet scent of the air, it is the place where one feels the presence of divine spirit within oneself.

Finally I could pen down a sequel of The North Wind . There is more to follow... "Claire was a young girl who had more to her than what meets the eye. She had a spirit as free as a bird, curiosity tentamounting to nine lives of a cat and a insatiable thirst for knowledge. Even at a very young age she was well read. She had found her twin soul in her best friend, Irene. The two would often spend hours in the attic of the old house brewing up stories of unraveling perplexity.

"It was a Winter evening, just as this" said the old man, as he shuffled on his Wing chair adjusting the thick house-coat, making himself comfortable at the porch. The children sat in a circle around him, with eager eyes, listening to his story with utmost interest.

The New Year is coming!! ...and to some of us it sounds like the cry of Winterfell , we don't know what to do, we don't know where to hide, but the New Year is coming (and you better not be doing something boring when the clock strikes twelve)!!

It was a pleasant evening and Fall was manifesting itself in every form. The sun had just set and the world seemed to linger in that limbo for a while. I was returning to my apartment, walking the narrow path darkened by the trees on either sides, when I saw a neighborhood regular approach me.

In the silence of the night, soft waves rock my boat as I cross the purple waters of the river to the other side. All I can hear is the water splashing against the oar of the small wooden boat. The tall oarsman is hooded by the darkness. I can't see his face. His long thin hands meticulously row the boat.