STOPHERE📍

GAUTWORLD Satish Sharma was a polisher of metals; he was originally from Calcutta, the beautiful city of many dreams. Two years back, he had shifted to Surat in search of a better livelihood. The first year had been good; work came his way regularly. Then came the recession, drying up everything: work, funds, opportunities, and even relations. He searched day and night, but found nothing; there was no work, and everywhere they asked him to wait, to wait until the recession was over. However, his life will not wait for the recession to be over, nor his body. Soon his savings were over, but the recession was everywhere, and he could not go back to a more expensive city like Calcutta and then came the last blow from his flat owner. Pay more or vacate the house. 👦 Satish Sharma will take that one step forward, but the question is, where would he take that step? To know about Satish Sharma's story, click on the book link of   'AMPUTATED MINDS'- A STORY TO TELL'  https://not...

  https://dribbble.com The most disgusting germs in humankind are the blackmailers, and one should never ever give in to their demands; instead, one should face them with law and order. The worst crime a human can do is play with a fellow human being’s TRUST, and most of the time, the core of blackmail starts from the destruction of TRUST! RAPE, MMS, CHILD ABUSE, these terrible crimes are done by someone we trust, and the sad thing is that the victim keeps quiet and goes through the pain again and again because the culprit has put the fear of blackmailing the victim if he/she said anything to anyone. The victim who has been blackmailed should understand that he/she has already been destroyed, so what more is there to be destroyed? So, the best step would be to stand up against your culprit, against the blackmailer, by speaking about them to the law, your family, your best friends, or anyone whom you trust the most and who will not take the wrong advantage of you, but will sta...

  GAUTWORLD Tonight, I just couldn't live Live to see another day Without you by my side. 🌀 THE DESOLATE STRETCHES OF THE MIND A STORY TO TELL 📖-GIVING LIFE TO STORIES 🎭

  Get side folks, get away The wild ones are in town Make way for us Hide everything folks Don’t let us see them Or they’ll be gone Like a needle in a haystack 🚧 THE DESOLATE STRETCHES OF THE MIND A STORY TO TELL 📖-GIVING LIFE TO STORIES 🎭 THE DESOLATE STRETCHES OF THE MIND 🐉,

    http://www.youtube.com/@ImagineIamI Anupama peered out at me through fatigue-filled eyes, and there was no recognition in her brown eyes. I froze, looking at her appearance. Anupama’s natural brown colour, waist-length hair, dishevelled and unwashed, and the green evening gown she wore had stains on them. Her feet were bare, and there were dark circles under her brown eyes, as if she had not slept for weeks. “Anu, it is I Vikram Shah your cousin brother Vicky.” I ventured to look at her. There was a flicker in Anupama’s eyes, and she blinked them several times and then said in a hoarse voice. “Vicky, is it really you, oh thank god, you got my letter.” “Yeah, I received it yesterday, what’s wrong?” I asked. Anupama sighed, and a relief flickered across her face. Then she chattered, “Please come in, mama will be so glad to see you.” She caught my hand and tugged me into the house. I stepped inside. (Later, when I recollect that moment wryly, I think that one step I took in t...

  GAUTWORLD T he shunting of the engine woke up Muthu from his deep slumber. He peered cautiously out of the coal wagon at his surroundings. The Freight Train stood at the siding yards of Karnal Junction and somewhere on the Gwalior-Ranchi line. The engine was being replaced for the onward journey. It was early morning; dawn had arrived two hours ago, and the early morning chill was in the air, with mist hanging in the yard. Birds called out to one another from the nearby trees. “The next stop would be Habra!” Muthu thought. Years of travelling on the Freight Trains had turned Murtha into an expert on the stops where the trains halt. Muthu was from Karnataka, but it made little difference to the North Indians, for them, he was just another Madrasi. Muthu was an Indian tramp, a wandering beggar who travelled from place to place on the Indian Railway. They foraged and begged for food and clothing, and sometimes, if circumstances were harsh, they stole a little. There were thous...

  GAUTWORLD He emerged from the small alley that was parallel to the main road. He strolled, almost moving his legs. He was exhausted and very hungry. An entire day had passed since he had eaten his last nourishment, and now his throat felt dry and parched. He strolled on the footpath, eyeing the shops selling all kinds of edible items, and he spat, his eyes watering, staring at the food displayed at the shop's windows and out in the open food stalls and food carts. He licked his lips and smacked his mouth as he looked at the piled-up, luscious fruits and snacks. As he looked at the other side of the road, he saw food kiosks lined up like bogies, and the cooks were busy preparing hot, fast food and serving it to the waiting customers. Then some restaurants and cafes were crowded with foodies, eating, drinking and commanding. He was watching people eating, drinking and ordering, which made him feel a bit dizzy. 🔪 To read the full story, click on the book link below the cover. Howe...