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STORY 9: The flower kids

We 'military kids' are raised differently. Being a daughter of a fauji, I have experienced and concluded that our upbringing is wierd. I am not saying it's inappropriate but it's ...it's just WIERD.  And I am writing about this today because something funny happened.  ******* It was almost six in the evening when my mom returned from Sunday Market which is actually a weekly vegetable and fruit market in a nearby field. As soon as we heard her footsteps on our porch, we all jolted and ran to the door to welcome her. We all are in mid 20s but we still run to mom or dad when they return from market, like toddlers do. Now before we could have the bags from her hands, she said "Aren't you guys alive! Kids have plucked all the flowers! Were you all sleeping!? Go and look what they have done...." Baffled, I went outside and found that someone had plucked a flower or two from our mini garden, and had spread the petals on the front road like you sprinkle choppe...
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Happy Teacher's Day (Teacher's Prayer)

One day, I talked to you about how I wanted to be a fashion designer and turned to be a teacher later. Though this profession was chosen by destiny for me, but now this has become an important part of my life.  Recently I got the chance to teach at a central government school of Tripura. I must say, that was the happiest and most enlightening experience of my life.  It actually taught me what it means to be a teacher. So on this auspicious occasion of Teacher's Day, I want to share this beautiful poem by James J. Metcalf.  I want to teach my children how to live this life on earth, To face its struggles and its strife and to improve their worth. Not just the lesson in a book or how the rivers flow, But how to choose the proper path wherever they may go. To understand eternal truth and know right from wrong, And gather all the beauty of a flower and a song. For if I help the world to grow in wisdom and in grace, Then I shall feel that I have won and I have filled my place....

Guest Post 3: उद्घोष

युद्ध यह विशाल है गड़ी जो मन में नाल है, एक सदी का बोझ लिए चल रहा जो लाल है। दीप्ति जिसका भाल है, प्रचंड है कमाल है, शंख का उद्घोष सुन मन में जिसके  काल हैं, जिस गली से होकर गुजरी रुदन का बखान है, मृत्यु जिसके चाल से मिला रही जो चाल है। विमल है विकराल है, तेज उसके मुंह पर जैसे स्वयं महाकाल है, युद्ध यह विशाल है गड़ी जो मन में नाल है,  एक सदी का बोझ लिए चल रहा जो लाल है।   - आलोक दुबे ( Follow Alok Dubey on Instagram ) Hey guys!  This was a beautiful composition by Alok Dubey. If  you also want to get published here, contact - https://www.instagram.com/neha_agri/

STORY 8: Warrior

Everything was white and lull. It seemed the world has turned black and white. And life was running like an inaudible movie.  Fog was making it difficult to see further than a few metres and the cold wind was restraining me from  moving forward. The small bundle wrapped in shawl on my back felt heavy. I pulled my clock with my unsteady hands to secure it more tightly. I could feel the numbness of my fingers and toes. My breast was aching due to shortness of breath, and with each new step, it ached more.  After a few more steps, my feet disagreed to move further. I ceased. I turned back to see in the same direction from where I was coming. The trailing signs of my footsteps were making it apparent that I have come a long way. I kept gazing at my footsteps. Fatigue was overpowering my mind. The picture in front of me was turning blur. But I abstained myself from closing my eyes. I was jolted by a sudden violent gust of cold wind.  It brought me back to...

GUEST POST 2: Hustle

Hello everyone, Welcome to Orange Stories . This is yet another guest post by Syona Tiwari . It's overwhelming to see that so many people fancy for writing stories. Hopefully, you'll enjoy reading it. Happy reading ♥️ THE STORY ... As the evening turned,  Abby  walked alongside  Brynt , frantically expressing her mind in and out. The tall guy listened  closely to the worried girl when they both met for their daily stroll, through the gritted road paved alongside the park, occupied with people minding their own errands. Some walking in groups, others contemplating their day long toil, while some gearing up for the completion of unfinished works. "No I don't wish to do it!"  Abby exclaimed in despair. "I  am not happy with the course of things that's going around me, and do not wish to continue living like this under the suppression and expectations of fulfilling the role of someone, which I am not. I don't know where I am he...

STORY 7: Zainab

Hello folks, How are you doing? This lockdown is tiresome, right? But life is all about optimism. Soon every thing will be fine, life will be on the same old track and we will be busy again. But there is a lot you can do in this lockdown too. Binge my stories ! Here is another original   story for you. Go ahead!  Happy reading ♥️ THE STORY … "Wake up Zainab, its almost 3:45. You'll miss suhoor. If you don't wake up I'll  not allow you to do the fasting …" Oh! The fast, I was supposed to wake up for the pre dawn meal. "Zainaaaab ..." I could sense a slight impatience in my mother's voice.  Aaha!   I could smell something warm and delicious. I threw my self out and ran to the kitchen. Before I could entre, I stumbled upon mom. "Watch your steps, beta. How many times have I told you not to run?" " Ammi , I'll also do the fasting …" "Then go and wash up yourself ..." before she could complete her ...

STORY 6: KANGRI

Namaste! Sorry for the late post guys. I have been busy with my semester exams. But better late then never. Well, here is a fiction story for you. But this may be the story of every second person belonging to septuagenarians'  category. We often feel irksome around elderly people. So, today I have dedicated this story to all the old generation folks. I have kept it short . Hopefully, you'll enjoy reading this. Share if you like and show your love by commenting. Happy reading ♥️ THE STORY … The armchair creaked as I stood to close the window. Before I could reach for it, the wind threw it open and a huge volume of cold air made its way inside my warm room. My face was hit by the chilled air. Yes, that stung but my face refused to move back. I closed my eyes. I inhaled as much air as I could, paused for a while and exhaled slowly. I wanted more of it.  My nose and ears started getting numb. I pushed my thoughts away and clos...