Writing and I take evening walks —
It listens more than people talk.

-

Writing and I have one thing in common.

We often weave each other.

-

Life keeps testing your limits, and you keep rewriting them.

-

Grab as much as you can, while you possibly can.

Well this isn't abt greed- it's abt embracing life’s fleeting moments. Certain opportunities, experiences, and even connections don't stay forever. Catch hold of them while you can, if you find them worthy enough.

-

I was fast asleep. It was midnight. Suddenly I heard someone knocking on my window. My heart raced. A wrist, heavy with bangles, was visible, but no figure stood outside. The window was entirely transparent, yet no one could be seen.

A voice broke the silence, soft yet chilling: "Oh dear, how can you sleep so peacefully, wrapped in your warm blanket, when I am shivering in the cold? Won't you let me in?"

-

The scratching at my window started just after midnight, soft at first, then growing louder, more frantic.

I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t stop.

When I finally got out of bed to check, I saw nothing outside—just the empty street, bathed in moonlight.

Relieved, I returned to my room, but the scratching had moved.

It was now coming from inside my closet.

I held my breath as I approached, reaching for the handle. Just as I was about to open it, the scratching stopped, replaced by a voice.

"Let me out," it whispered, "I’ve been waiting."

-

I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand, but when I checked, it was still 3:00 AM—no calls, no messages. The only thing blinking on the screen was a text: *"I’m right behind you."*

My heart raced, but I turned around anyway, half-expecting to see nothing. But there, in the dim light, was a reflection of me—my exact figure, but with hollow eyes and a crooked grin. It was smiling at something… or someone… behind me.

-

The door slammed shut behind him, and the moment his hand touched the doorknob, he realized—he’d just locked himself inside a room with no way out. His heart raced, but it wasn’t fear of being trapped. It was the shadow standing in the corner, watching, waiting, knowing things about him no one should.

Time was running out. Would he find a way to escape the room—or would the room escape him first?

-

न मान लेना तुम हार,
जब नाकामी करे प्रहार,
जरूर मिलेगा तुम्हें द्वार,
बस करते रहना प्रयास बारम्बार।

-

चाहे दुर्योधन का छल करे प्रहार, या कंस का अधर्म सताए बारंबार,
जब तक भीतर कृष्ण है ज़िंदा, सत्य ही जीतेगा हर बार।

-