Can we go back to that time when writing letters was popular and still relevant? The pleasure of writing letters to your loved one's, the longing and waiting for the answer to your letter, eyes curiously searching that figure and ears waiting for that special sound of bell ringing and postman announcing his arrival - अरे, डाकिया आ गया! The excitement and enthusiasm in people, trying to one-up eachother just to get the letter as soon as possible, the euphoria when you open the letter and read it in that person's voice, the joy, the pleasure. Oh how I wish I could feel all that! But anyways, happy World Post Day everyone! 📪✉💕💜

Out of all the amazing things in this universe

I just want my childhood back

Mummy? Mummy, can you hold me in your arms? For tonight, for tomorrow, forever? I don't want to go out! The world is too cruel and and I'm too soft. I can't handle this anymore. I cannot fight back. I'm too weak and too tired. Mummy? Mummy, can i put my head on your lap and curl up into a ball and turn into a small kid again and sleep? Sleep peacefully in your lap? It's so peaceful in here. I'm sleeping. I'm falling, falling into this deep state of sleep. Don't wake me up, please. Just let me sleep for 5 more minutes. Just 5 minutes more, mumma...

mom can you come get me things are getting bad again and i feel every insult like a sharp tooth and i feel my dreams rotting under my fingernails and i feel too much all the time or else i feel nothing at all and it doesn’t seem to matter if i drink and dance and party or if i stay at home curled up to study

I've always loved watching sunsets

It doesn't matter how bad my day went

Watching the sun set never failed to put a smile on my face

And maybe that is why

When 'us' ended

I didn't cry but rather smiled

Our ending was like a sunset

So beautiful and painted with the colors of love, happines and joy

A total bliss

Before the night sky -dark, depressing, black- took over

"-but before you leave me for the third time, I think we should atleast talk." "Well, I never left you." "But you never stayed. You escaped every time." "I love to travel. Don't you know?" "I know." "And what makes you want me to stay?" "I love to write. Maybe that's why." I gave him a quick grin. "Don't you know that?" "There's nothing to write about me." He declared and shook his head. "Everyone has a story to tell", I insisted. "Everyone is a writer. Some are written in books and some are confined to hearts." "You are good with words." "Thanks!" I said. "And what are you good at?" I was eager to know more about him. He seemed so mysterious, yet wonderful. Before I could get my answer, his cell phone began to ring. He quickly reached down and checked the caller ID. His eyes were regretful when he looked up at me, disappointment rippling across his face. Then he chuckled. "I guess, I am good at escaping." "Again?" Disappointment soared as I aksed in a low voice. "Always." He whispered, leaning across the table so I could hear him. "Why?" I prompted. I didn't want him to leave. I planned to keep him talking as long as I could. He shrugged, the shoulders of his coat lifting nearly to his ears. "Love." I wanted to cry but there was a glint of teasing in his eyes. "What?" "I love to travel." He explained. "I can't stay in one place." Not yet, my mind called out. "Will you meet me again?" "Why?" He asked with a challenging tone. I mimicked his tone. "Maybe you are my story." "Miss writer," he said as he stood up. "I am real, not fiction." He laughed and started leaving. I stood up as well and held his arm lightly. "I am," I said sadly. "Not Miss Writer."

~ excerpt from Everyone Has A Story by Savi Sharma