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  Hug me once, so tight, so near Let the breeze be blocked by the wall of us here Don’t let the space whisper, don’t let the wind roam Just your arms around me — like I’ve found my home [Pre-Chorus] I wanna scream to the sky, to the stars above “You’re the one I found, the one I never dreamt of” But inside me burns a storm I can’t confess — I don’t want this body to echo love’s dress [Chorus] You're my silence, you're my scream You’re not my lover — you’re my in-between No skin desires, no eyes to trace Just your soul... crashing into my grace [Verse 2] This isn't romance, don’t give it that name This is a thunderstorm that calls without shame Hold me like a prayer that dares not be told Not for passion, but for fire uncontrolled [Bridge] I feel my heart — can you hear that beat? Not of wanting, but of something more deep I shout to heaven, not for your kiss But to bless this feeling I don’t want to miss [Chorus – repeat softly, like a whisper in the dark...

  In a small coastal town where the waves told stories to the shore, lived a man named Arvind. He was well-known for two things—his brilliant carpentry and a stubbornness that could rival the mountains. Arvind once built boats, sleek and strong, crafted by hand, kissed by the scent of teakwood and sea salt. But he made a mistake that changed everything. Five years ago, a storm had been predicted—one of the worst. But Arvind, driven by pride and urgency, insisted on finishing a boat delivery. “I’ve seen worse seas,” he had shrugged. Despite his apprentice pleading with him to wait, Arvind set sail. The storm didn’t wait either. It crushed the boat. It almost crushed Arvind. He washed ashore with broken ribs and a broken heart. The boat had been ordered by a family man who was saving it for his son. Arvind survived, but the man never came to collect the pieces of his dream. Shame settled into Arvind’s soul like rust on forgotten metal. From that day, he stopped building boats. He tol...

  Angel Message – 111 When you see 111, pause and breathe — the Universe is speaking. This number isn’t a coincidence; it’s a divine whisper that your thoughts are manifesting rapidly. You’re standing at the gateway of a new beginning — where your desires, intentions, and inner truths are aligning with the spiritual energy around you. The angels are reminding you to stay positive. Let go of fear. What you think, you attract — so think hope, love, and light. 111 is the dawn of your spiritual awakening. You are being called to trust your intuition, embrace the new path, and step into your true purpose with courage. You are not alone — the Universe walks with you.

  "The Fire and the Flame" In the heart of a small coastal town, tucked between the scent of salt and the hum of the waves, stood a modest eatery called “Kaalan’s Kadai.” It wasn’t fancy. The wooden benches creaked, the menu never changed, and the roof leaked every monsoon. But people came—not for the place, but for the man behind the stove. Kaalan , the old chef with silver hair and a thick white mustache, was a legend. No one knew where he came from, but everyone knew his fish curry could make you forget your worries. His hands were slow, deliberate, full of memory. People said he poured stories into his dishes. Every morning, he lit the stove like it was a ritual. He never rushed. He stirred with care, chopped like an artist, and spoke very little. Some called him wise, others called him strange. But everyone respected him. One day, a group of young boys sat near the counter, laughing. “Kaalan, why don’t you expand? Open more branches, go online, make it big? You’re...

  I’m not foolish enough to accept you blindly, Yet not wise enough to turn away entirely. I dwell within—your shadow’s silent call, A guiding hand through rise and fall. Nor wise enough to end this fight. I am the shade beneath your light, Leading you through darkest night. Complete rejection, I cannot say. I’m your shadow, steadfast and true, Walking the path destined for you. Not naive to follow without sight, Blind acceptance, that’s not my way,

  “When the Rain Paused” The clock ticked past midnight in Meera’s home, but silence was nowhere to be found. Voices bounced off the walls like thunder, sharp and relentless. The same old argument. The same old wounds. The same old feeling — of being unheard, unseen, undone. She didn’t shout back this time. Not because she didn’t have words, but because she was exhausted of repeating them to ears that refused to listen. Her throat felt like it had swallowed fire; her eyes burned, but no tears came. She stepped outside instead. The night air was cold, not in an unkind way — but like a blanket dipped in truth. The stars blinked through the clouds as if whispering: You’re not alone. The wind kissed her forehead like a mother would. The earth under her bare feet felt solid, unlike the people who constantly shook her from within. She sat down on the stairs, letting the sky witness what her house never could. As minutes passed, something strange happened. The anger didn’t leave — ...