We often do the things which we as humans would never have attempted or thought of to attempt. We hate doing certain things and the human soul inside us should not be blamed for this. Most of our personality is built during our childhood or teenage and throughout rest of our lives we carry the same. Nobody in the world is lucky enough to be in a situation where he/she is supposed to be natural. Most of the time we come across the situations where we are compelled to lie or act against our will. If not we reach to the verge of losing a job, a friend and sometimes a close family member too. The instincts in us is regulated not by us but by the situation around us. A person never is completely responsible for his/her actions. Our actions depend on the things we are going through or we have been through. But we never blame the timing. We rarely blame the situations. What we find easier to be targeted is the person involved. The person involved should not be held re...
Thousands of years ago, at the top of a hill lived a large community of ants. They all were very hard working and friendly. They cared and helped each other when in need.Their anthill was under a shady tree, which made the surrounding cool and beautiful. After some time a group of hunters came towards the area and chose the same tree to camp under. The hunters were the people who had come there to hunt and enjoy their leisure time. They used to kill animals and cook them under the same tree. The ants did not like all these but they knew that they are helpless creatures and cannot do anything to stop that. What they only thought is that someday the hunters would leave their area and go somewhere else. A few days passed but the hunters were yet not in mood to depart from there. They kept on killing the animals and throw their unused body parts near the anthill. And because of this many ants were killed too. In the beginning the ants used to enjoy these remains as their supper b...
'पेड़ की कहानी' एक पेड़ था थोड़ा पुराना, जर्जर हो चुका था उसका ताना बाना, चिड़ियों ने आना बंद कर दिया था उसकी ओर, हों काली घनी रातें या सुनहरी भोर, फिर भी खड़ा था वो पेड़ एक आस के सहारे, थोड़ा झुक हुआ, पूरा सूखा, अकेला जंगल के किनारे, आस थी उसको कि जी उठूँगा एक दिन मैं भी, मुझ तक भी आएगी शीतल बयार कभी न कभी, कुछ पत्ते थे, मुरझाए से, अनमने से लटके, खाये थे उन्होंने वक़्त के बेशक़ीमती झटके, भरोसा था उसे कि जब तक ये पत्ते रहेंगे, बाकी के पेड़ उसे ज़िंदा मानेेंगे और कहेंगे, दिखाता था वो जंगल को कि वो मज़बूत कितना है, जंगल भी कहता था कि हाँ, इसका तो मोटा तना है, पर हो चुका था वो अंदर से खोखला और बेजान, उसके पत्ते भी गवाँ चुके थे, अपना रंग, अपनी पहचान, आज वो पेड़ गिर गया है, जंगल के एक छोर पर अकेला पड़ा है, आस जो बची थी वो अब टूट चुकी है, टहनियाँ जो साथी थीं वो अब छूट चुकी हैं, वो जंगल से अलग उगा था, या जंगल ही हो गया था उस से दूर, या फिर विचित्र होने को वो ही था मज़बूर, जंगल ने समझा कि वो अकेला ही भला है, उसके पास स्वयं में ही जीने की अद्भुत कला है, ...
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