top of page

Flight Of A Wounded Bird

By Preeti Kaur Bharj

Life is unpredictable, a mix-up of good and bad but it all depends on the way we live up to it, depends on our perceptions, interpretations and expectations. Every once in a while we are subjected to pain, subjected to choices to be brave or succumb to hopelessness. But the question lies in how to be brave. How to face the bullet and not be soaked in red? The kind of muddle we find ourselves in is totally subjective. Hard to sympathize and harder even to empathize. There's an individuality associated with every ache, different, unique and hardest to each and everyone facing it. One's suffering will always be harder for them than others. This philosophy definitely does not mean that others' torments are nonexistent, they are but one prioritises none more than one.

Life is a struggle, and every day's a race, you keep running, keep up the fight and you don't stop. You can not because the moment you stop, you fail. You don't want to fail. You face it all with a determination that comes with the realisation that you would conquer, for we are the kings and queens of our stories, we just need to have faith. My intention to say it all is because I too am a common man, with common goals, yet extraordinary on its own, simple yet effective, to be the best version of me. To conquer and die a known man, to survive and just not belittled to existence. My expectations are to reach higher aims every day, for I too am a man in a quandary, but still want to be brave and something I wish I had known from the base, hence, an ode to my 14-year-old self. You will survive, just hold on, princess.

By Preeti Kaur Bharj

14 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Stories Brewed In A Coffee Shop

By Aanya Nigam Amidst the aromatic swirls of roasted beans and the low hum of chatter, I silently hang on the wall with my polished mahogany case and a meticulously crafted dial. My ornate hands mark

माणसातला सिंह

By Amol Kharat तु वाघीण अणि मी सिंह होतो,आजूबाजूला गर्द हिरव्या अगदी काळपट रंगात सजलेलं जंगल …अंगावर खेळणारा गार वारा अणि रोजच्याच आवाजांचं आज नवं संगीत हळुवार कानातून आज मनभर विरत होतं. गव्हाळ रंगाच्

माझी राणी

By Amol Kharat मी तिचं माकड आणि ती माझी माकडीण ….एकाच फांदीवर धावताना पावलं आमचे वेगवेगळे ...पानात रेंगाळताना, फांद्यांना कवटाळताना शेपटाही आमच्या वेगवेगळ्या ...पण आमचं हिंडणं , खेळणं, खाणं , भांडणं स


Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
bottom of page