IF PAPER COULD SPEAK...

This is a story of a newspaper. Imagine if newspapers could speak, they would surely have tales to tell, waiting for someone to listen, just as I need someone to understand my emotions. This is the story of Paper, who longed to share his journey with the world.

Hi, my name is Paper, and today I’d like to share a day in my life.

I was created some time ago, and after all the hustle, I rested with my companions, sleeping peacefully before the sun rose. The room was dark; all I could see were shadows, and all I could hear was the soft breathing of my fellow newspapers. I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, unsure of what the future held for me. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

My eyes fluttered open when the lights were switched on. I quickly nudged my friends to wake up, eager to begin our journey. Soon, a man entered and picked up a bundle of us. I was in the middle of the stack. As he stepped outside the building, a cool morning breeze brushed against my surface, sending a chill through me. I felt goosebumps, and I think my friends did too, for I sensed them shivering slightly. Being in the middle, I wasn’t as cold, shielded by those above and below me.

We were carefully placed on top of a machine, which I later learned was called a motorcycle. It was incredibly fast! At first, I was scared, thinking, "What if I flew away?" We clung to one another tightly, even though we were already tied together to prevent such accidents. After a while, though, it started to feel exhilarating. The wind rushed past, and I felt free of my worries, even if just for a moment. But then, the motorcycle stopped, ending the thrill.

The man began walking through a small community. The streets were quiet, with a few people heading to work, children on their way to school, and elderly folks enjoying the morning on their balconies. One by one, my friends were delivered to different houses. The man didn’t wait for anyone to collect them; he simply rang the bell and left the papers at their doors.

He started with the ground-floor homes, and then came the upper floors. I wondered if he would climb the stairs, but to my surprise, he began throwing some of my friends up to balconies. Amazingly, they landed perfectly. Then, it was my turn. He tossed me upward. I closed my eyes and braced myself... and just like that, I had arrived.

I lay outside for a while until a man from the house came out and picked me up. He read through my pages as he sipped his morning tea. However, he didn’t finish as he had to leave for work. Later, his son picked me up and flipped straight to the sports section, reading it for a few minutes before tossing me aside.

For the rest of the day, I was mostly left alone. Occasionally, someone would move me from one place to another, but no one paid me much attention. The rest of the family was busy with their phones or watching television. As night fell, I was tossed into a corner along with other newspapers that had arrived before me.

I don’t know how long I’ll stay here. The others aren't sure either. But it's the unknown future that still gives me hope. As I lie quietly in the corner, I watch the family together through thick and thin, living their lives.

When time lost its shapes

As I sat there doing nothing, a sudden thought came to my mind: What did I do during the lockdown days? Were they as uneventful as now, or did something different happen? And if there was a difference, has it really changed anything so far?

If anyone were to ask whether I miss the lockdown days, most of us would probably answer that we miss the days before the lockdown. The sudden change the world went through is still hard to accept, as the once slow-paced world transformed into something resembling the world inside Fahrenheit 451. It’s deeply unsettling.

I remember myself in the year 2019, when I joined my first year of college. After that, time just seemed to blur, and now, when I look around, everything feels unfamiliar, like the colours have been pushed back into a grey day. I’m not saying there were no bright, colourful moments; there were. But they felt like fleeting sparks swallowed by an ocean of grey.

This grey slowly began foreshadowing the days I spent feeling low and withdrawn. Instead of doing something different or meaningful, an unsettling heaviness kept pulling me down. Sometimes I imagine living in a small cottage surrounded by green nature everywhere, with a stream flowing nearby and a small community of people living simple lives on a mountaintop. No one is staring at the latest piece of technology, but instead is spending time talking to each other. I often travel to this place in my dreams, though I don’t know if it truly exists.

I used to think daydreaming was a bad habit, but sometimes it’s the only place I feel comfort, my quiet refuge each night before being pushed back into reality the next day.

And now, as I sit on a chair staring out the window, I realise it’s not the world that’s the problem; it’s my mind, still refusing to see myself as an adult member of society. Is it just me, or are there many others who feel the same that the time before was beautiful, but now everything feels dull? The hectic schedules and monotonous days weigh down the soul, yet there remains a small hope for something new to look forward to.

Beyond the wait

Wait, that moment comes to end,

But patience stays, your truest friend.

Is it beautiful, or just divine?

Time will tell as it draws the line.

Each small step, each choice made,

Paves the path that we will tread.

The climb is tough, the pace is slow,

But steady hearts will always grow.

Nothing beats that joy so pure,

A hope that feels secure.

Though doubts may rise and moments dim,

A quiet hope still starts to swim.

The silence hanging in the air,

The anxious glances here and there

The wait for something to be done

Becomes a tale that’s just begun.

Smiles spread gently, laughter flows,

A wave of peace within us grows.

Faces light up, hearts rejoice,

In that stillness, we hear a joyful voice.

The wait is over, calm and bright,

Let the story continue with new light ...

 

                                                  

Painted horizons

Clouds form a pattern in the sky,

In hues of orange, drifting high.

They move along without a sound,

Like quiet guests that float around.

They never leave, they never stray,

But hide when sunlight floods the day.

At dusk and dawn, they tint the light,

Painting skies in soft twilight.

Like an artist's brush at play,

They shift and change throughout the day.

Minutes turn to hours fast,

Yet every moment seems to last.

Nature’s beauty, calm and deep,

Lulls the restless soul to sleep.

The closer we are, the more we see

How nature sets our spirits free.

Freedom... what a lovely word,

Not always shouted, often heard

In gentle winds and skies above,

In little things, like clouds we love.

Opinions shift, and feelings stray,

But clouds remain, they find their way

In shapes unknown, in forms brand new,

On a journey meant for me and you.

                                              _ Beera

The masked one and the broken light

Once upon a time, in a tiny little town nestled between hills and meadows, there lived a monster. From the time he was a child, the townspeople feared him. Perhaps it was his appearance, or maybe his cold demeanour, but no one dared to go near him. He wandered through life in solitude, never knowing the warmth of companionship.

Years later, a little angel arrived in town. She was full of energy and joy, her smile bright enough to melt even the coldest hearts. The townspeople adored her instantly. She had a kind word for everyone and was always surrounded by admirers. But even in the midst of all that affection, she noticed someone on the outskirts, someone standing alone, pushed away by the rest.That someone was the monster.

She watched his lonely figure for days, her heart quietly aching. One morning, she decided to approach him. “Hi,” she said with a smile, unbothered by the stories she had heard. He didn’t answer at first, but she didn’t give up. Day after day, she returned, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting beside him in silence.

Eventually, the monster opened up. They became best friends. The townspeople were surprised to see the monster smiling. Slowly, others began talking to him, too. Curiosity turned into kindness. Acceptance replaced fear. The once-feared monster became part of their community, and for the first time, he felt like he belonged. The angel, proud of her friend, watched it all unfold with happiness in her heart.

But one day, when they were alone, the angel saw something she had never seen before.

The monster changed. His smile vanished. The warmth faded. In its place stood someone unrecognisable, cold, manipulative, and frightening. He was no longer the gentle creature he pretended to be. Terrified, the angel stepped back, realizing she had been deceived all along.

She wanted to tell the others, but something held her back, fear. Fear that no one would believe her. Fear that her truth would be buried under the image the monster had built. And so, she stayed quiet.

Slowly, the angel faded into the background. Her smile dimmed, her light grew dull. The villagers, unaware of the truth, continued to praise the monster. He had become the angel in their eyes, kind, generous, and loved. The angel, broken and alone, left the village.

Years passed.

One day, she returned. The town had changed, but what caught her eye was a familiar face, the monster, now older, holding a tiny child in his arms. A little monster, or perhaps... an angel.

Only time would tell.

Started with song, ended with silence and thought

After a short break, I finally watched a movie today, one that had been on my watchlist for a while. Interestingly, it wasn’t the film itself that first caught my attention, but a song from it. During my visit to Kerala, I heard my cousins playing a beautiful track, and curiosity led me to ask which movie it was from. That’s when I learned the name "Nariveta".

Until today, I knew nothing about its plot or genre, so I went in with zero expectations. As the movie began, I wasn’t particularly impressed at first, but I had heard from others that it was worth watching. The first half felt like a typical feel-good story, sprinkled with a bit of mystery through flashbacks.

However, it was the second half that truly elevated the narrative. The film revolves around the lives of tribal communities, homeless on their own land and their fight for basic shelter. It also explores the complexities of human nature, revealing hidden emotions and unexpected behavior.

The gradual transformation of the protagonist—from a self-centered individual to someone who genuinely cares for the people he once saw as strangers is portrayed subtly and effectively. The film gently nudges the viewer to reflect on empathy, dignity, and the value of every human life.

The music stands out as a powerful element in the storytelling. The songs are beautifully composed, with lyrics that echo the pain and resilience of the characters.

Overall, the movie is a moving portrayal of social injustice and the unseen struggles of marginalized communities. It sheds light on the darker side of humanity while also reminding us of hope and change.

Chasing food through the rain

Heavy rain couldn’t stop us from following through with our plan for a good meal. After several delays, we finally made it to the food court above Dmart. It was around evening time when we set out. While we were still planning, the sun peeked out briefly through the clouds. But just as we started getting ready, strong winds began to blow. Still, our determination held strong, as if we were embarking on a heroic mission.

Midway through the journey, the clouds gave way and the rain poured heavily, flooding the roads. Despite carrying an umbrella, we got drenched. Our clothes were soaked through, water dripping from the hems. After battling the downpour, we finally reached the entrance of the food court. Stepping inside, the blast of cool air from the air conditioners sent shivers down our spines.

We picked a spot and settled in, chatting while we observed our surroundings. Couples and families filled the space, yet we couldn't help but look around for another friend group like ours. As time passed, more people poured in likely seeking shelter from the rain, just like us.

Eventually, we placed our orders, and after a short wait, the food arrived. Everyone patiently waited while I clicked a quick photo (I truly appreciate their patience!). Then, we dove into the meal, and the next few minutes disappeared in silence, focused on the delicious spread.

By the time the plates were cleared, our clothes had dried as well. We lingered a little longer, enjoying the comfort and warmth of the space.

Soon, it was time to leave. Outside, it was still drizzling, and the streets were filled with puddles from the earlier downpour. To avoid getting soaked again, we decided to take a rickshaw ride home. The rain continued gently for a while, but by the time we reached our doorstep, it had begun to fade.

And that’s how we made it to the food court despite the stormy weather making the meal feel all the more memorable.