Things take turn for better or for worse but reading always brings its own rewards. You don’t just write stories and dramas, you learn and grow with it and it grows on you. You learn to be grateful for small mercies yet you don’t take things lying down. You don’t get carried away by things that never amount to a hill of beans. You might turn from xenophobic to xenomanic and you come to know how little you know. You don’t look over your shoulder if a hair is out of place. You see through dodgy characters and don’t abide by prejudices, learn to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. You start giving a wide birth to unrest and unhelpful ideas, learn to rest your ores instead of turning tail to save your bacon every so often. You see the world in all its tainted glory and still relish it, still be happy to be alive.

Published by Smita Ray

Smita Ray is a mother of two lovely kids and hails from the northeastern town of India Gorakhpur. Her perpetual displeasure arising from the hypocrisy in the society underneath the semblance of religion, culture as well as the conditioning for compliance urged her to put down the impressions in her mind. In her spare time, she likes to have some culinary adventures with her kids.

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