World Of A Young Girl

  The night is darkest, perhaps; But see, there dreams the sun at the horizon.  Look in front of you. Countless mountains rise high and steep,  Adorned with howling blizzards are they; Their feet are washed  With oceans, roaring with waves... But please, don't stop; Don't forget this little girl, your promise to her! The storms will bend you, The lightnings will blind you,  The rain will drench you completely,  The earthquakes will shake you to the core... At every moment you fall, With each step you bleed more, At each breath you feel you can't,  You're exhausted to the last drop of yourself... But please, don't stop; Don't forget this little girl, your promise to her! Sometimes you see some light  In utter darkness, and rush... Only to discover it to be, a total illusion! You fall in the darkest, blackest abyss, To be painted red with your pain, and Trying in vain to erase all with your tears... But please, don't stop; Don't forget this little g...

Winner in Summer Writing Contest 2023, Little Authors The light again began to come back to her eyes. She could see and hear again. She stretched her almost numb hands and felt the sheets upon which she was lying. It was wet. She brought her hands in front of her and was startled for a moment. It was blood. Slowly she swept her eyes around her. The sheets was drenched in blood, so was her clothing.  She felt no pain, no sickness, nothing. Rather she felt more relaxed and energetic than ever. So where did all this blood come from? Suddenly her fingers brushed her chest. She realised her chest was covered with several deep, horribly deep wounds. They should have hurt severely, but surprisingly there was no pain at all. She seemed to have crossed the realm of pain and sorrow. All of a sudden her fingers closed upon something cold and metallic. She held it in front of her eyes and immediately recognised the black mass of metal that was lying beside her. Everything began to surface in h...

Written in May 2020 Dear professor Trilokeshwar Shanku, I have read your marvellous and incredible adventures. You are my icon, my inspiration– I have been inspired by your stories to be a great scientist like you. I wonder why people believe that you are an imaginary character. My strong belief is that there is a replica of the solar system in somewhere of this great universe –  including a planet which is exactly alike our Earth– except some people, places, things and animals– that people include you, your friend Jeremy Saunders, Wilhelm Chroll, John Summervile, Hugo Dumberton, Francis Fielding, Abinash Mazumdar, Nakur Chandra Biswas– that things include your inventions like miracurall, annihilin pistol, air-conditioning pill, remembrain, ceribrilant, luminimax, compudium, neo-specteroscope, microsonograph, omniscope, camerapid, linguagraph, and so more– that animals include autoplasm and E.A. Today, I am writing you this letter to make some wishes to you. I hope you will fulfill...