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#childhood_memories #storytelling #grandmother #Childhood #Grandma White Grandma Stories I still love to hear those stories narrated by my grandmother. From the starting punch line of "Once upon a time...." to the exciting finishing statement, and finally, after that, they lived happily." I used to get engrossed in every nuance of her narration. I used to persuade her to narrate the Cinderella-type story many times. The way she used to begin was perfect, drawing me into her story. "Once upon a time, there used to be a pretty girl who often rested her heart, mind, and soul every evening on the steps of the porch of her house after doing all household chores dumped on her by her arrogant stepmother and sisters. She knew no prince would come out of nowhere and hold her hand before taking her away. It happens only in dreams. Still, she waits for someone who wouldn't come. She knows that she is bound to continue as a puppet here. But what if, one day, her waiting pays off?" Then my grandmother sighed deeply and expressed her wish as she looked at me: "You know, Krishna, I hope that, one day, the prince from her dream will arrive and rescue her from this hell. But none of us can predict the future." I then raised my head from her lap and looking at her eyes, I put forward my curiosity, "Will the prince arrive, Grandma?" "Even the gods cannot resist the glowing beauty that radiates from her, along with her pure heart—let alone a prince! Let's see." She remarked before continuing with her story! ©Krishnan

#Grandma #grandmother #storytelling #Childhood #childhood_memories

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#Checkmate #yourquote #situation #Summary #Viraaj Being a checkmate in life's summary does not mean that you have been blown over; you have become dispersed, perished, and ruined, as much as you have been impaired by the transgress situation; it means. Due to your innovation work being dislocated, there is a fracture or outrage in its functioning. Only you have to be disembodied from a state of vitiate. Your life-brooding is always in a state of virgin migration, and your novelty networks are always in vernal ordwelling, with assuagement and commiseration being gossip, not miff. It animates your toonification energy with the medication of nature. ©Viraaj Sisodiya

#Checkmate #Summary #situation #work #yourquote #Viraaj

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White My grandma used to say "Clothes tell story, A tale of what we have always been. They hold a beginning and the end And everything that's in between" Her cotton, soft Sarees are now keepsakes, They hold the happy rays of the sun, The times when she danced in beams, Those good old days of fun. The rough white patches on its edges Are badges of what she has earned, The freckles and marks of lifetime, Of hands that left no stone unturned. ©Anagha Ukaskar

#love_shayari #grandmother #Grandma #naani White My grandma used to say "Clothes tell story, A tale of what we have always been. They hold a beginning and the end And everything that's in between" Her cotton, soft Sarees are now keepsakes, They hold the happy rays of the sun, The times when she danced in beams, Those good old days of fun. The rough white patches on its edges Are badges of what she has earned, The freckles and marks of lifetime, Of hands that left no stone unturned. ©Anagha Ukaskar

#love_shayari #naani #Grandma #grandmother #Aaji #poem

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#wallpaper White A LOOK AT LIFE-125 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY HOW CAN I FORGET? How can I forget the sweat of the poorest of the poor that has gone into my making? How can I forget I am brought up on the taxpayer's contribution And the resources of the country? How can I forget The system that groomed me and Stood by me at the time of my need? How can I forget The air, water and sunlight That nourished me? How can I forget The summer shower, smell of the moist earth That drenched me? How can I forget The love, commitment and dedication of others That kept me alive? How can I forget The language of empathy and reciprocation That taught me the lessons of life? How can I forget My parents, siblings, friends and teachers For whom I am what I am? How can I forget My employer, boss and colleagues With whom I have spent quality time of life? How can I forget My love, kids and family Who have made my life sheer poetry? How can I forget The environment and ecosystem That sustained my existence? How can I forget my country, My mother who has given me an identity And purpose to live? Is it not my duty To listen to her voice When she calls me and cries in silence? If it is not the time to reciprocate When they need me to Then when? after everything is over. Smruti Ranjan Mohanty ©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

#wallpaper A LOOK AT LIFE-125 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY HOW CAN I FORGET? How can I forget the sweat of the poorest of the poor that h

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how do i complain to urbanclap? Toll-free:⓿❽❺❷❶❹❷❶⓿❸❹. online. Complaint ,24/7),+91-91+91-8521421034. ©Vikas Kumar 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙙

how do i complain to urbanclap? Toll-free:⓿❽❺❷❶❹❷❶⓿❸❹ Hinduism

108 View

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Hi! I want to verify my accountHi! amazing😍

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#childhood_memories #storytelling #grandmother #Childhood #Grandma White Grandma Stories I still love to hear those stories narrated by my grandmother. From the starting punch line of "Once upon a time...." to the exciting finishing statement, and finally, after that, they lived happily." I used to get engrossed in every nuance of her narration. I used to persuade her to narrate the Cinderella-type story many times. The way she used to begin was perfect, drawing me into her story. "Once upon a time, there used to be a pretty girl who often rested her heart, mind, and soul every evening on the steps of the porch of her house after doing all household chores dumped on her by her arrogant stepmother and sisters. She knew no prince would come out of nowhere and hold her hand before taking her away. It happens only in dreams. Still, she waits for someone who wouldn't come. She knows that she is bound to continue as a puppet here. But what if, one day, her waiting pays off?" Then my grandmother sighed deeply and expressed her wish as she looked at me: "You know, Krishna, I hope that, one day, the prince from her dream will arrive and rescue her from this hell. But none of us can predict the future." I then raised my head from her lap and looking at her eyes, I put forward my curiosity, "Will the prince arrive, Grandma?" "Even the gods cannot resist the glowing beauty that radiates from her, along with her pure heart—let alone a prince! Let's see." She remarked before continuing with her story! ©Krishnan

#Grandma #grandmother #storytelling #Childhood #childhood_memories

126 View

#Checkmate #yourquote #situation #Summary #Viraaj Being a checkmate in life's summary does not mean that you have been blown over; you have become dispersed, perished, and ruined, as much as you have been impaired by the transgress situation; it means. Due to your innovation work being dislocated, there is a fracture or outrage in its functioning. Only you have to be disembodied from a state of vitiate. Your life-brooding is always in a state of virgin migration, and your novelty networks are always in vernal ordwelling, with assuagement and commiseration being gossip, not miff. It animates your toonification energy with the medication of nature. ©Viraaj Sisodiya

#Checkmate #Summary #situation #work #yourquote #Viraaj

99 View

White My grandma used to say "Clothes tell story, A tale of what we have always been. They hold a beginning and the end And everything that's in between" Her cotton, soft Sarees are now keepsakes, They hold the happy rays of the sun, The times when she danced in beams, Those good old days of fun. The rough white patches on its edges Are badges of what she has earned, The freckles and marks of lifetime, Of hands that left no stone unturned. ©Anagha Ukaskar

#love_shayari #grandmother #Grandma #naani White My grandma used to say "Clothes tell story, A tale of what we have always been. They hold a beginning and the end And everything that's in between" Her cotton, soft Sarees are now keepsakes, They hold the happy rays of the sun, The times when she danced in beams, Those good old days of fun. The rough white patches on its edges Are badges of what she has earned, The freckles and marks of lifetime, Of hands that left no stone unturned. ©Anagha Ukaskar

#love_shayari #naani #Grandma #grandmother #Aaji #poem

13 Love

#wallpaper White A LOOK AT LIFE-125 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY HOW CAN I FORGET? How can I forget the sweat of the poorest of the poor that has gone into my making? How can I forget I am brought up on the taxpayer's contribution And the resources of the country? How can I forget The system that groomed me and Stood by me at the time of my need? How can I forget The air, water and sunlight That nourished me? How can I forget The summer shower, smell of the moist earth That drenched me? How can I forget The love, commitment and dedication of others That kept me alive? How can I forget The language of empathy and reciprocation That taught me the lessons of life? How can I forget My parents, siblings, friends and teachers For whom I am what I am? How can I forget My employer, boss and colleagues With whom I have spent quality time of life? How can I forget My love, kids and family Who have made my life sheer poetry? How can I forget The environment and ecosystem That sustained my existence? How can I forget my country, My mother who has given me an identity And purpose to live? Is it not my duty To listen to her voice When she calls me and cries in silence? If it is not the time to reciprocate When they need me to Then when? after everything is over. Smruti Ranjan Mohanty ©Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

#wallpaper A LOOK AT LIFE-125 BY-SMRUTI RANJAN MOHANTY HOW CAN I FORGET? How can I forget the sweat of the poorest of the poor that h

90 View

how do i complain to urbanclap? Toll-free:⓿❽❺❷❶❹❷❶⓿❸❹. online. Complaint ,24/7),+91-91+91-8521421034. ©Vikas Kumar 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙙

how do i complain to urbanclap? Toll-free:⓿❽❺❷❶❹❷❶⓿❸❹ Hinduism

108 View

#Videos

Hi! I want to verify my accountHi! amazing😍

126 View

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