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āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϤāĻĒ⧁

āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ‚āĻŦāĻž āϝ⧇āϕ⧋āύ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāĻŖā§€āϰ āϏāĻŦāĻšā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻ•āĻžāϛ⧇āϰ āϜāύ āϕ⧇? āϕ⧇ āϏ⧇āχ āϜāύ āϝ⧇ āϤāĻžāϕ⧇ āφāĻ—āϞ⧇ āϰāĻžāϖ⧇ āĻŽāĻžā§ŸāĻž āĻŽāĻŽāϤāĻžā§Ÿ? āĻ…āĻŦāĻļā§āϝāχ āĻŽāĻžāĨ¤ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āĻāχ āĻŽāĻž-āχ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻĒ⧃āĻĨāĻŋāĻŦā§€āϰ āϏāĻŦāĻšā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻŦ⧜ āĻļāĻ¤ā§āϰ⧁ āĻšā§Ÿā§‡ āϝāĻžā§Ÿ āϤāĻ–āύ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻšā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻ•āĻˇā§āĻŸā§‡āϰ āφāϰ āĻ•āĻŋ āĻšāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧇? “āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϤāĻĒ⧁” āĻŽā§āĻšāĻžāĻŽā§āĻŽāĻĻ āϜāĻžāĻĢāϰ āχāĻ•āĻŦāĻžāϞ⧇āϰ āĻāĻ• āĻ…āύāĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻ•āĻŋāĻļā§‹āϰ āωāĻĒāĻ¨ā§āϝāĻžāϏāĨ¤ āĻāχ āωāĻĒāĻ¨ā§āϝāĻžāϏ⧇ āϞ⧇āĻ–āĻ• āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ⧇āϰ āĻāĻŽāύ āĻŦ⧟āϏ⧇āϰ āĻāĻŽāύ āĻāĻ• āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻŋāϤāĻŋāϰ āĻ•āϰ⧇āϛ⧇āύ āϝ⧇āχ āĻŦ⧟āϏ⧇ āϝ⧇āχ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻŋāϤāĻŋāϤ⧇ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϕ⧇āω āĻĒ⧜āϞ⧇ āĻ•āĻŋ āϘāϟāĻŦ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻœā§€āĻŦāύ⧇ āϤāĻž āĻāχ āĻŦāχ āĻĒ⧜āϞ⧇ āϏāĻšāĻœā§‡āχ āωāĻĒāϞāĻŦā§āϧāĻŋ āĻ•āϰāĻž āϝāĻžā§ŸāĨ¤ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻ•āĻžāĻ āĻ–ā§‹āĻŸā§āϟāĻž āĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻ āĻŦāĻž āĻŦāĻžāĻ•ā§āϝ āĻŦāĻž āϘāϟāύāĻž āύ⧇āχ, āϖ⧁āĻŦāχ āϏāĻžāĻĻāĻžāϏāĻŋāϧ⧇ āĻ•āĻžāĻšāĻŋāύ⧀,āύ⧇āχ āϏ⧇āχ āϰāĻ•āĻŽ āύ⧀āϤāĻŋāĻŦāĻžāĻ•ā§āϝ, āύ⧇āχ āĻŽāĻžāĻĨāĻž āĻāϞ⧋āĻŽā§‡āϞ⧋ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āĻ“ā§ŸāĻž āĻŦāĻžāĻ•ā§āϝāϰ⧀āϤāĻŋ, āϤāĻžāχ āĻĒ⧜āϤ⧇ āĻ—āĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āϕ⧋āύ āϏāĻŽāĻ¸ā§āϝāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŽā§āĻŽā§āĻ–ā§€āύ āĻšāϤ⧇ āĻšā§Ÿ āύāĻžāĨ¤ ā§§ā§Š āĻŦāĻ›āϰ āĻŦ⧟āϏ⧇āϰ āĻāĻ• āĻ•āĻŋāĻļā§‹āϰ āϤāĻĒ⧁āĨ¤ āĻĒ⧁āϰ⧋ āύāĻžāĻŽ āφāϰāĻŋāĻĢ⧁āϞ āχāϏāϞāĻžāĻŽ āϤāĻĒ⧁āĨ¤ āĻŦāĻŋ.āϕ⧇. āϏāϰāĻ•āĻžāϰāĻŋ āĻšāĻžāχāĻ¸ā§āϕ⧁āϞ⧇āϰ āĻ…āĻˇā§āϟāĻŽ āĻļā§āϰ⧇āĻŖā§€āϰ āĻ›āĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰāĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύ āĻŦāĻ›āϰ āφāϗ⧇ āϝāĻ–āύ āϤāĻĒ⧁ āĻāĻ• āϰ⧋āĻĄ āĻāĻ•ā§āϏāĻŋāĻĄā§‡āĻ¨ā§āĻŸā§‡ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻšāĻžāϰāĻžā§Ÿ āĻ āĻŋāĻ• āϤāĻ–āύ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āĻĻ⧁āχ āĻ­āĻžāχ āĻāĻ• āĻŦā§‹āύ⧇āϰ āϏ⧁āĻ–ā§€ āϏāĻ‚āϏāĻžāϰāϟāĻž āϤāĻ›āύāĻ› āĻšā§Ÿā§‡āĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϕ⧇ āύāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āϤāĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāϟ āĻ•āĻŋāύāϤ⧇ āĻ¯ā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻž āϝāĻžāĻ“ā§ŸāĻžā§Ÿ āϤāĻĒ⧁āϰ āĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻŦāĻĻā§āϧāĻŽā§‚āϞ āϧāĻžāϰāĻŖāĻž āĻšā§Ÿ āϝ⧇ āϤāĻĒ⧁āϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝāχ āϤāĻĒ⧁āϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻž āĻ—āĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āϛ⧇āύāĨ¤ 


āĻĻā§€āĻĒ⧁ āύāĻžāĻŽā§āĻŦāĻžāϰ āϟ⧁

āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻĒāĻĻāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻĨ āĻŦāĻŋāĻœā§āĻžāĻžāύ⧇ āĻĄāĻŋ.āĻāχāϚ.āĻĄāĻŋ āĻ•āϰāĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ⧇ āϝ⧁āĻ•ā§āϤāϰāĻžāĻˇā§āĻŸā§āϰ⧇ āĻ—āĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›āĻŋ āϤāĻ–āύ āϏ⧇āĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻāϕ⧇āĻŦāĻžāϰ⧇āχ āĻāĻ•āĻž, āĻŦāĻžāĻ‚āϞāĻžā§Ÿ āĻ•āĻĨāĻž āĻŦāϞāĻžāϰ āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāĻ“ āύ⧇āχ āĻĒ⧜āĻžāĻļā§‹āύāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰāϚāĻ¨ā§āĻĄ āϚāĻžāĻĒ, āϏāĻŋ⧟āĻžāϟāϞ⧇āϰ āĻŽā§‡āĻ˜ā§‡ āĻĸāĻžāĻ•āĻž āϧ⧂āϰāϏāϰ āφāĻ•āĻžāĻļ, āĻ—ā§ā§œāĻŋāĻ—ā§ā§œāĻŋ āĻŦ⧃āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋ, āĻ•āύāĻ•āύ⧇ āĻļā§€āϤ āϏāĻŦ āĻŽāĻŋāϞāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻŽāύ āĻ–āĻžāϰāĻžāĻĒ āĻ•āϰāĻž āύāĻŋāσāϏāĻ™ā§āĻ— āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻŦ⧇āĻļāĨ¤ āĻāĻ•āĻžāϕ⧀āĻ¤ā§āĻŦ āĻĻā§‚āϰ āĻ•āϰāĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϤāĻ–āύ āĻ•āĻ˛ā§āĻĒāύāĻžā§Ÿ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻ•āĻŋāĻļā§‹āϰ āϤ⧈āϰāĻŋ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āύāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āĻĻā§€āĻĒ⧁āĨ¤ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻŽāύ āĻ–āĻžāϰāĻžāĻĒ āĻšāϤ⧋ āϏ⧇āχ āĻ•āĻŋāĻļā§‹āϰāϟāĻŋ āϤāĻ–āύ āφāĻŽāĻžāϕ⧇ āϏāĻ™ā§āĻ— āĻĻāĻŋāϤ⧋āĨ¤ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļā§āĻŦāĻŦāĻŋāĻĻā§āϝāĻžāĻ˛ā§Ÿā§‡āϰ āĻŦ⧃āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋāϭ⧇āϜāĻž āĻ•ā§āϝāĻžāĻŽā§āĻĒāĻžāϏ⧇āϰ āĻĒāĻŋāϠ⧇ āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāĻ•āĻĒ⧇āĻ• āύāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāϤ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāϤ⧇ āϏ⧇āχ āĻ•āĻžāĻ˛ā§āĻĒāύāĻŋāĻ• āϚāϰāĻŋāĻ¤ā§āϰāϕ⧇ āϤāĻž āφāĻĒāύāϜāύāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžā§Ÿ āϏāĻ¤ā§āϝāĻŋāĻ•āĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŽāϤ⧋ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āϤ⧇ āĻĒ⧇āϤāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āĻāĻ• āϏāĻŽā§Ÿ āϏ⧇āχ āĻ•āĻŋāĻļā§‹āϰ āφāϰ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻŋ⧟ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϏ⧁āĻ–-āĻĻ⧁āσāĻ– āφāϰ āĻ…ā§āϝāĻžāĻĄāϭ⧇āĻžā§āϚāĻžāϰ⧇āϰ āĻ•āĻžāĻšāĻŋāύ⧀āϟāĻž āϞāĻŋāĻ–āϤ⧇ āĻŦāϏ⧇āĻ›āĻŋ, āĻ—āĻ­ā§€āϰ āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻž āύāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āϞāĻŋāϖ⧇ āĻļ⧇āώ āĻ•āϰ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāĨ¤āϞ⧇āĻ–āĻž āĻļ⧇āώ āĻšāϞ⧇ āύāĻžāĻŽ āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›āĻŋ āĻĻā§€āĻĒ⧁ āύāĻžāĻŽā§āĻŦāĻžāϰ āϟ⧁! 


āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϟāĻŋāϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻžāϰ⧀āύāĻž

āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϟāĻŋāϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻžāϰ⧀āύāĻžāĨ¤
āĻāĻ•āĻĻāĻŋāύ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻ­ā§‹āϰ⧇ āύāĻžāϰ⧀āύāĻž āĻŦ⧇āϰ āĻšā§Ÿā§‡āϛ⧇
āĻŦāύ⧇ āϝāĻžāĻ“ā§ŸāĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝāĨ¤
āĻŦāύ⧇ āϤāĻžāϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻž āĻšāϞ⧋ āĻāĻ• āĻ…āĻĻā§āϭ⧁āϤ āϛ⧇āϞ⧇āϰāĨ¤
āϏ⧇āχ āϛ⧇āϞ⧇āϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ
āϜāĻ‚āϞ⧇ āϜāĻžāϞāĻž āĻĄāĻ‚āϞ⧇ āĻĄāĻžāϞāĻž āϟ⧁āĻ—āϰāĻŋ āϟ⧁āϰāĻžāĻ‚!

āĻŦ⧜ āĻŽāĻžāĻŽāĻž āĻāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻ—āĻ˛ā§āĻĒ āĻŦāϞāϛ⧇āύ āĻŽāĻŋāϤ⧁āϞāϕ⧇āĨ¤
āĻ—āĻ˛ā§āĻĒ⧇ āφāϛ⧇ āφāϰāĻ“ āĻ…āύ⧇āĻ• āϚāϰāĻŋāĻ¤ā§āϰāĨ¤ āϟāĻŋāϟāĻŋāĻ‚, āϭ⧁āϟ⧁, āϛ⧁āϟāĻ•āĻŋ, āϟāĻŋāĻ•āϟāĻŋāĻ•āĻžāϞāĻŋ ...āĨ¤
āφāϰ āφāϛ⧇ āϭ⧟āĻ™ā§āĻ•āϰ āĻāĻ•āϜāύ
āϏ⧇āύāĻžāĻĒāϤāĻŋ āϗ⧁āϰāĻ—āĻŋāϞ āϕ⧁ āϗ⧁āϰāĻ—āĻžāύ!

āĻļ⧁āύāϤ⧇ āĻļ⧁āύāϤ⧇, āĻĒ⧜āϤ⧇ āĻĒ⧜āϤ⧇ āϰ⧂āĻĒāĻ•āĻĨāĻž āĻŽāύ⧇ āĻšāϤ⧇āχ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧇ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϟāĻŋāϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻžāϰ⧀āύāĻž āϰ⧂āĻĒāĻ•āĻĨāĻž āύ⧟, āϰ⧂āĻĒāĻ•āĻĨāĻžāϰ āφāĻĻāϞ⧇ āĻāĻ• āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āϧāĻ•āĻžāϰ āϏāĻŽā§Ÿā§‡āϰ āĻ•āĻžāĻšāĻŋāύ⧀āĨ¤


āĻ—ā§āϰāĻžāĻŽā§‡āϰ āύāĻžāĻŽ āĻ•āĻžāρāĻ•āύāĻĄā§āĻŦāĻŋ

āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϗ⧁āϞ⧋ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻ•āĻžāϞ, āĻšā§‹āϖ⧇āϰ āĻĻ⧃āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋ āĻāϤ āφāĻļā§āϚāĻ°ā§āϝ āϝ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŦ⧁āĻ•āϟāĻž āϧāĻ• āĻ•āϰ⧇ āωāĻ āϞāĨ¤ āĻāϤ āϤ⧀āĻŦā§āϰ āĻĻ⧃āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ•āĻ–āύ⧋ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻŋāύāĻŋ, āϏ⧇āĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āϕ⧋āύ⧋ āĻŦāĻž āφāϤāĻ™ā§āĻ• āύ⧇āχ, āĻĻ⧃āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋāϟāĻž āφāĻļā§āϚāĻ°ā§āϝ āϰāĻ•āĻŽ āϤ⧀āĻ•ā§āĻˇā§āĻŽāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϕ⧀ āĻŦāϞāĻŦ, āĻŦ⧁āĻāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāϞāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻĸā§‹āρāĻ• āĻ—āĻŋāϞ⧇ āĻŦāϞāϞāĻžāĻŽ, “āφāĻĒāύāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āφāϰ āϕ⧋āύ⧋ āϭ⧟ āύāĻžāχāĨ¤ āϝ⧁āĻĻā§āϧ āĻļ⧇āώāĨ¤ āĻ–ā§‹āĻĻāĻžāϰ āĻ•āϏāĻŽāĨ¤ āϝ⧁āĻĻā§āϧ āĻļ⧇āώāĨ¤” āϞāĻžāϞāĻšā§‡ āϚ⧁āϞ⧇āϰ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡, āϝāĻžāϰ āĻšā§‹āϖ⧇āϰ āĻĻ⧃āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋ āϏāĻŦāĻšā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āϭ⧟āĻ‚āĻ•āϰ, āϏ⧇ āφāĻ¸ā§āϤ⧇ āφāĻ¸ā§āϤ⧇ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžā§Ÿ āĻĢāĻŋāϏāĻĢāĻŋāϏ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻŦāϞāϰ, “āϤ⧋āĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϝ⧁āĻĻā§āϧ āĻļ⧇āώ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϝ⧁āĻĻā§āϧ āĻļ⧁āϰ⧁āĨ¤”


āχāĻ¸ā§āϟāĻŋāĻļāύ

āϜāĻžāϞāĻžāϞ āĻŽāĻžāĻĨāĻž āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āϏāĻŦ āϚāĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤāĻž āĻĻā§‚āϞ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāĻ—āϞ⧇āϰ āĻŽāϤ⧋ āϛ⧁āϟāϤ⧇ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇, āĻĒā§āϞāĻžāϟāĻĢāĻ°ā§āĻŽ āĻļ⧇āώ āĻšāĻŦāĻžāϰ āφāϗ⧇ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻāχ āĻŸā§āϰ⧇āύ⧇ āωāĻ āϤ⧇ āĻšāĻŦ⧇, āĻāĻ•āĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻĒā§āϞāĻžāϟāĻĢāĻ°ā§āĻŽ āĻļ⧇āώ āĻšā§Ÿā§‡ āϗ⧇āϞ⧇ āφāϰ āϏ⧇ āωāĻ āϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŦ⧇ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āϛ⧁āϟāϤ⧇ āϛ⧁āϟāϤ⧇ āϏ⧇ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻ–ā§‹āϞāĻž āĻĻāϰāϜāĻžāϰ āĻšā§āϝāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻĄā§‡āϞ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻ•āĻžāϞ, āϏ⧇ āϝāĻĻāĻŋ āĻšā§āϝāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻĄā§‡āϞ⧇āϟāĻž āĻāĻ•āĻŦāĻžāϰ āϧāϰāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻšāϞ⧇āχ āĻļ⧇āώ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āϏ⧁āϝ⧋āĻ— āφāϛ⧇āĨ¤ āĻāĻ•āĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻšā§‡āĻˇā§āϟāĻž āĻ•āϰāϞ, āĻĒāĻžāϰāϞ āύāĻž, āϜāĻžāϞāĻžāϞ āϤāĻŦ⧁ āĻšāĻžāϞ āĻ›āĻžā§œāϞ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āϏ⧇ āĻļ⧁āύāϤ⧇ āϗ⧇āϞ āĻŸā§āϰ⧇āύ⧇āϰ āϭ⧇āϤāϰ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāϜāύ āϚāĻŋā§ŽāĻ•āĻžāϰ āĻ•āϰāϛ⧇, “āϕ⧀ āĻ•āϰ? āϕ⧀ āĻ•āϰ? āĻāχ āϛ⧇āϞ⧇? āĻŽāĻžāĻĨāĻž āĻ–āĻžāϰāĻžāĻĒ āύāĻž-āĻ•āĻŋ?”


āφāϰ⧋ āϟ⧁āύāϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āĻ“ āφāϰ⧋ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁

āϘāϰ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻžāĻāĻžāĻŽāĻžāĻāĻŋ āĻ•ā§Ÿā§‡āĻ•āϟāĻž āĻšā§‡ā§ŸāĻžāϰ āĻŦāϏāĻžāύ⧋ āĻšā§Ÿā§‡āϛ⧇, āϤāĻžāϰ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻžāϤ⧇ āĻĢāĻžāϰāĻŋāĻšāĻž āĻŦāϏ⧇ āφāϛ⧇āĨ¤ āϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āĻšāĻžāϤ āϧāϰ⧇ āϤāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻŸā§‡āύ⧇ āĻāύ⧇ āĻĢāĻžāϰāĻŋāĻšāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āĻ•āĻžāϛ⧇ āφāϰ⧇āĻ•āϟāĻž āĻšā§‡ā§ŸāĻžāϰ⧇ āĻŦāϏāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻĻā§‡ā§ŸāĨ¤ āϘāϰ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻšā§āϚāĻž-āĻ•āĻžāĻšā§āϚāĻžāϰāĻž āϏāĻŦāĻžāχ āĻšā§‡āĻžāϖ⧇āϰ āϕ⧋āύāĻž āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āφāϰ āĻĢāĻžāϰāĻŋāĻšāĻžāϕ⧇ āϞāĻ•ā§āώ āĻ•āϰāϛ⧇ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āφāϗ⧇ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āĻŦāϞ⧇ āĻĻā§‡ā§ŸāĻž āφāϛ⧇ āϕ⧇āω āϝ⧇āύ āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϏāϰāĻžāϏāϰāĻŋ āύāĻž āϤāĻžāĻ•āĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇, āϤāĻžāχ āϏāĻŦāĻžāχ āĻŦāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āϰ āĻšā§ˆ-āĻšā§āĻ˛ā§āĻ˛ā§‹ā§œā§‡ āĻŦā§āϝāĻ¸ā§āϤ āφāϛ⧇, āĻāϰāĻ•āĻŽ āĻ­āĻžāύ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āϞāĻžāĻ—āϞāĨ¤ āĻĢāĻžāϰāĻŋāĻšāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āĻ•āĻžāϛ⧇ āĻšā§‡ā§ŸāĻžāϰ⧇ āĻŦāϏ⧇ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āĻ—āĻŽā§āĻ­ā§€āϰ āĻŽā§āϖ⧇ āĻĢāĻžāϰāĻŋāĻšāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻŦāϞāϞ, “āϕ⧇āĻŽāύ āφāĻ›?” āĻĢāĻžāϰāĻŋāĻšāĻžāĻĒ⧁ āĻŦāϞāϞ, “āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋āĨ¤” āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āĻŦāϞāϞ, “āĻ“āĨ¤” āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ āĻĻ⧁āχāϜāύ āφāϰ āĻŦāϞāĻžāϰ āĻŽāϤ⧋ āϕ⧋āύ⧋ āĻ•āĻĨāĻž āϖ⧁āρāĻœā§‡ āĻĒ⧇āϞ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻĻ⧁āχāϜāύāχ āĻŽā§āĻ– āĻļāĻ•ā§āϤ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āϏāĻžāĻŽāύ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻ•āĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻŦāϏ⧇ āϰāχāϞ, āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻĻ⧇āϖ⧇ āĻŽāύ⧇ āĻšāϤ⧇ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻāĻ•āϜāύ āφāϰ⧇āĻ•āϜāύ⧇āϰ āĻšā§‡āύ⧇ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āĻšā§‹āϖ⧇āϰ āϕ⧋āύāĻž āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻĻ⧁āχāϜāύāϕ⧇ āϞāĻ•ā§āώ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ āĻĻāϰāϜāĻžāϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻ•āĻžā§ŸāĨ¤ āϏ⧇āĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āϗ⧁āĻĄā§āĻĄā§ āĻĻāĻžāρ⧜āĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āφāϛ⧇āĨ¤ āϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āϤāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āϏāĻŋāĻ—āĻ¨ā§āϝāĻžāϞ āĻĻāĻŋāϞ, āϤāĻ–āύ āϗ⧁āĻĄā§āĻĄā§ āϛ⧁āϟāϤ⧇ āϛ⧁āϟāϤ⧇ āĻ­āĻŋāϤāϰ⧇ āĻĸ⧁āϕ⧇ āϚāĻŋā§ŽāĻ•āĻžāϰ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻŦāϞāϞ, “āĻŦāϰāϝāĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰ⧀ āĻāϏ⧇ āϗ⧇āϛ⧇āĨ¤ āĻŦāϰāϝāĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰ⧀ āĻāϏ⧇ āϗ⧇āϛ⧇āĨ¤”


āφāĻŦāĻžāϰ⧋ āϟ⧁āύāϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āĻ“ āφāĻŦāĻžāϰ⧋ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ (āĻšāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻĄāĻ•āĻ­āĻžāϰ)

āĻĻā§‚āϰ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āϟ⧁āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻž āφāϰ āĻŽā§āύāĻŋ⧟āĻžāϕ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻž āϝāĻžāĻšā§āϛ⧇ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāϛ⧁āϟāĻŋ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻŦāχ āĻ•āĻŋāύāϛ⧇āĨ¤ āĻŦāĻ‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϰ āĻŦā§‹āĻāĻž āφāϰ āĻŸā§‡āύ⧇ āύāĻŋāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāϛ⧇ āύāĻžāĨ¤ - āϕ⧀ āφāύāĻ¨ā§āĻĻ! āϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āφāĻļ⧇āĻĒāĻžāĻļ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻ•āĻžāϞ, āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž āĻŽāĻžā§Ÿā§‡āϰāĻž āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϛ⧇āϞ⧇āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āĻĻ⧇āϰ āύāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāϛ⧇āĨ¤ āĻ•āϞ⧇āϜ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļā§āĻŦāĻŦāĻŋāĻĻā§āϝāĻžāĻ˛ā§Ÿā§‡āϰ āϛ⧇āϞ⧇āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϰāĻž āĻšāĻžāϤ āϧāϰāĻžāϧāϰāĻŋ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāϛ⧇āĨ¤ āϚāĻļāĻŽāĻž āĻĒāϰāĻž āĻ–ā§āϝāĻžāĻĒāĻž āϧāϰāύ⧇āϰ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻšā§‡āρāĻŸā§‡ āϗ⧇āϞ, āĻŦāĻžāϤāĻžāϏ⧇ āϚ⧁āϞ āĻ‰ā§œāϛ⧇, āϕ⧀ āϏ⧁āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāϰ āϞāĻžāĻ—āϛ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āϤ⧇āĨ¤ āĻļāĻžā§œāĻŋ āĻĒāϰāĻž āĻĻ⧁āϜāύ āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡ āĻšāĻžāϏāϤ⧇ āĻšāĻžāϏāϤ⧇ āĻ•āĻĨāĻž āĻŦāϞāϤ⧇ āĻŦāϞāϤ⧇ āĻšā§‡āρāĻŸā§‡ āϝāĻžāĻšā§āϛ⧇ āϕ⧀ āϏ⧁āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāϰ āĻ•āĻĒāĻžāϞ⧇ āϞāĻžāϞ-āϏāĻŦ⧁āϜ āϟāĻŋāĻĒ āĻĻāĻŋā§Ÿā§‡āϛ⧇āĨ¤ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āϤ⧇ āϕ⧀ āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋ āϞāĻžāĻ—āϛ⧇āĨ¤ āϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āĻŦāϏ⧇ āĻŦāϏ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āϖ⧇āĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽāύ⧇ āĻšā§Ÿ, āφāĻšāĻž āĻŦ⧇āρāĻšā§‡ āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āĻžāϟāĻž āϕ⧀ āφāύāĻ¨ā§āĻĻ⧇āϰ!


āϟ⧁āύāϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āĻ“ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ (āĻšāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻĄāĻ•āĻ­āĻžāϰ)

āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāχāϭ⧇āϟ āĻĄāĻŋāĻŸā§‡āĻ•āϟāĻŋāĻ­ āĻāĻœā§‡āĻ¨ā§āϏāĻŋ āϖ⧁āϞāϞ⧋ āϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āύāĻžāĻŽā§‡āϰ(āϟ⧁āύāϟ⧁āύāĻŋ) āϛ⧋āĻŸā§āϟ āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϟāĻŋ āϏ⧇āχ āϏāĻ‚āĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻžāϰ āĻŽā§‡āĻŽā§āĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻž āϏāĻšāĻ•āĻžāϰ⧀ āĻ—ā§‹ā§Ÿā§‡āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻž āĻšāϤ⧇ āϚāĻžāχāϞ⧋āĨ¤ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āϤāĻžāϕ⧇ āϕ⧋āύ āĻĒāĻžāĻ¤ā§āϤāĻžāχ āĻĻāĻŋāϞāύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ āĻŽāĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰ āĻĻ⧁āĻĻāĻŋāύ āϝ⧇āϤ⧇ āύāĻž āϝ⧇āϤ⧇āχ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻž āϗ⧇āϞ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āϤ⧇āĻŽāύ āϕ⧋āύ āϏāĻŽāĻ¸ā§āϝāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŽāĻžāϧāĻžāύāχ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧇āύāĻžāĨ¤ āωāĻĒāϰāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āϟ⧁āύāϟ⧁āύāĻŋ āύāĻžāĻŽā§‡āϰ āĻ›ā§‹ā§āĻŸā§āϟ āĻŽā§‡ā§Ÿā§‡āϟāĻŋ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āϏāĻšāĻœā§‡āχ āϏāĻŦ āĻ—ā§‹ā§Ÿā§‡āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻžāĻ—ā§€āϰāĻŋ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻŦ⧇āϰ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻĢ⧇āϞ⧇āĨ¤ āĻāĻ•āĻĻāĻŋāύ āĻĻ⧁āĻĻāĻŋāύ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻāĻ• āϏāĻŽā§Ÿ āϛ⧋āϟāĻžāĻšā§āϚ⧁ āϟ⧁āύāϟ⧁āύāĻŋāϕ⧇ āĻŽā§‹āϟāĻžāĻŽā§āϟāĻŋ āĻŽā§āĻ˛ā§āϝāĻžā§Ÿāύ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻļ⧁āϰ⧁ āĻ•āϰ⧇āĨ¤ āϤ⧋āĻŽāϰāĻž āĻ•āĻŋ āϭ⧇āĻŦ⧇āĻ›? āϛ⧋āϟ āĻŦāϞ⧇ āϤ⧁āĻŽāĻŋ āĻ—ā§‹ā§Ÿā§‡āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻž āĻšāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻŦ⧇āύāĻž? āϏ⧇āϟāĻž āĻŽā§‹āĻŸā§‡āχ āĻ āĻŋāĻ• āύ⧟āĨ¤


āĻšāĻŋāĻŽā§ āĻŽāĻžāĻŽāĻž (āĻšāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻĄāĻ•āĻ­āĻžāϰ)

āĻŦ⧁āϧāĻŦāĻžāϰ āϏāĻ•āĻžāϞ āĻāĻ—āĻžāϰ⧋āϟāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻšāϞ⧁āĻĻ āĻĒāĻžāĻžā§āϜāĻžāĻŦāĻŋ āĻĒāϰ⧇ āĻšāĻ āĻžā§Ž āĻ•āϰ⧇āχ āϏ⧇ āĻšāĻŋāĻŽā§ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϗ⧇āϛ⧇ āĨ¤ āĻļ⧁āĻ­ā§āϰ āχāĻ¨ā§āϟāĻžāϰāĻŽāĻŋāĻĄāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āϟ āĻĒāϰ⧀āĻ•ā§āώāĻž āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āϛ⧇ āĨ¤ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋ āĻ›āĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰ āĨ¤ āϟāĻ—āϰ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻžāĻŽāĻžāϰ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻ­āĻ•ā§āϤ āĨ¤ āĻŽāĻžāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻ•āĻžāĻ› āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āĻāĻ–āύ āϏ⧇ āĻŸā§āϝāĻžāϰāĻž āĻšāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻžāϰ āĻŸā§āϰ⧇āύāĻŋāĻ‚ āύāĻŋāĻšā§āϛ⧇ āĨ¤ āϟāĻ—āϰ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻžāĻŽāĻž āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋ āĻŸā§āϝāĻžāϰāĻž āĻšāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧇ āĨ¤ āϟāĻ—āϰāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻŦāĻžāĻŦāĻž-āĻŽāĻž , āĻĻāĻžāĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧāĻž , āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧ āϚāĻžāϚāĻž , āϛ⧋āϟ āĻŽāĻžāĻŽāĻž āφāϰ āϛ⧋āϟāĻŦā§‹āύ āύāĻŋāϞ⧁ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇ āĨ¤ āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻ•āĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻĄāĻ•āĻžāϰāĻ–āĻžāύāĻž āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧāϞ⧇ āĻšāĻžāϏāϤ⧇ āĻšāĻžāϏāϤ⧇ āĻĒ⧇āϟ āĻŦā§āϝāĻžāĻĨāĻž āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϝāĻžāĻŦ⧇ āĨ¤ āϟāĻ—āϰ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻž āύāĻžāύāĻž āϰāĻ•āĻŽ āĻ¸ā§āĻĒ⧇āĻļāĻžāϞ āφāχāĻŸā§‡āĻŽ āϰāĻžāĻ¨ā§āύāĻž āĻ•āϰ⧇āύ āĨ¤ āϤāĻŦ⧇ āϏ⧇āϗ⧁āϞ⧋ āϖ⧇āϤ⧇ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĻāϘ⧁āĻŸā§‡ āĻšāϝāĻŧ āĻŦāϞ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻžāϰ āϕ⧇āω āϖ⧇āϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰ⧇ āύāĻž āĨ¤ āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧ āϚāĻžāϚāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŦāĻžāχ āĻ­āϝāĻŧ āĻĒāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϟāĻ—āϰāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϰ āϝ⧇ āϕ⧋āύ āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻŋāϚāĻžāϰ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻĨāĻžāϕ⧇āύ āĨ¤ āĻĻāĻžāĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧāĻž āĻ›āĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āφāϰ āĻ•āĻžāϰ⧋ āĻŦāĻĄāĻŧ āϚāĻžāϚāĻžāϰ āĻŽā§āϖ⧇āϰ āωāĻĒāϰ āĻ•āĻĨāĻž āĻŦāϞāĻžāϰ āϏāĻžāĻšāϏ āύ⧇āχ āĨ¤ āĻĻāĻžāĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧāĻž āϖ⧁āĻŦ āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋ āĨ¤ āĻŦāĻžāĻšā§āϚāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϖ⧁āĻŦāχ āφāĻĻāϰ āĻ•āϰ⧇āύ āĨ¤


Pinocchio

Once there was an old woodcarver

called Geppetto who longed to have a

child of his own. So he decided to

make a puppet that would be just like

a real boy.

" I shall call him Pinocchio,"said

Geppetto as he began to carve the

wood. A moment later, he

had a surprise. As soon 

as Geppetto carved

Pinocchio...............


Jack and the Beanstalk

Once upon a time a boy named Jack lived with his mother. All they had in the world was one cow.

One day Jack's mother said, "We have no money for food. We shall have to sell the cow".

So Jack took the cow to market. 

On the way, he met a man.


SNOW WHITE & THE SEVEN DWARFS

Once upon a time, a beautiful

queen had a baby girl.

The baby's skin was as white as 

snow, and she had beautiful blck

hair. The Queen called her baby

Snow White.

 


The Dirty Mirror

A dirty mouse found a mirror in the bushes.

He saw himself in the mirror.

His face, nose, ear and hands were dirty.

"How can I look so dirty!" He cried in shock.

"It must be the mirror. "He wiped the

mirror with his dirty paw.

 


The Hardy Boys 86

Then he reached up to unfasten his helmet. After slipping it off, he found himself back in the everyday world. The mall, which was so real only seconds before, had been replaced by an empty room the size of a basketball court. The walls were covered with a thick plastic material painted flat black. The only light came from small ceilingmounted spots.

"of!" Joe exclaimed as his blond head emerged from under his plastic helmet. “That was something. I feel like I've been in a real fight—and lost!”

Frank was about to reply when a door opened at the far end of the room. A tall, slender young woman in faded jeans and a blue blazer came in. Even in the dim light, her long red hair seemed to glow. Though only twenty-seven, Amanda Boggs was co-owner and creative director of Xyrodian, one of the hottest video game companies in Silicon Valley, California. The Hardys had stopped by to visit on their way to VidCon, a video game exhibition in San Francisco, and Amanda had offered to give the brothers a personal tour.

"Well, guys?” Amanda said, as she drew closer. "How do you like virtual reality?"

"Fantastic!” Joe replied.

“Amazing," Frank added. "I felt as if I were really in that mall."

“Where can we buy one of these, Amanda?"


James and the Giant Peach

James and the Giant Peach was my first book for children. I wrote it during the winter of 1960-61 in New York, and I started it because I wanted to attempt something different after seventeen years of writing nothing but short stories for adults.

I can remember vividly that I was sitting at my desk and playing around with the lines of "The Centipede's Song' when my wife burst into the room and told me that our son Theo, then three months old, had been hit by a taxi-cab while out in his pram with his nurse. I dropped my pencil and we both rushed to the hospital. His head injuries were severe and almost fatal, and the next few months were desperate times, with brain operations and endless journeys through the snow to hospital, and all the awful tensions that grip a mother and father when they are fighting to save their baby's life.

When you are writing fantasy, which is a very different thing from writing fiction, you must be able, the moment you pick up the pencil, to shut out all normal surroundings and go flying away to a magic world where everything is enchanting.

 


Menace Beneath The Mines

Zack is about six feet tall with black hair. He was begging his dad to give him permission to go to a nearby town. But Mr. Wesley would not allow it under any circumstances. Mr. Wesley himself was a private investigator and was well-known for his detective work around the world. Right now he was just sitting on an armchair in the living room, reading the newspaper.

“Did you hear the latest news, Zack? Frank Bryce has escaped prison. He is one of the most wanted criminals in the world. He has murdered a total of 150 people using robots. He was spotted about 100 kilometers from our place after his escape," said Mr. Wesley

“How can he escape? He was a top security prisoner, wasn't he?” Zack asked with some curiosity.

 

“Yes, he was and I don't know how he escaped. No one has ever escaped the Black Gate Prison before, but Frank is known as an evil genius,” Mr. Wesley replied thoughtfully.


Folktels of Bangladesh

The folktales of Bangladesh are the inherent treasures of the soil. The rivers and the meadows of this land, its shrubs and tributaries and paddy fields, the ecstasies and the heartaches of its people, their hopes and frustrations, their faith and disillusion all have gone to the making of the folktales of this region. With the local indigenous influences carried over from the past through generations there came to be mixed in course of time the various influences imbibed from Muslim tales and legends brought over from Arabia, Morocco, Turkey, Iran and other Islamic countries. Aftar Bengal came under the Muslim rule in early 13th century the Muslim influence became quite discernible in all spheres of the local life. Many religious saints came over to Bengal to preach Islam and spread the basic fundamental moral virtues of their faith. They settled in various parts of the country and largely helped in spreading there Muslim culture among the local people. Many Muslim traders also came for purposes of trade and commerce. Through all these channels Arabic and Persian tales and legends travelled into Bengal, got inextricably mixed with the local tales in many cases, and enriched the folktales of this area with a special flavour all its own. While we get many folktales which reflect the ways of life and culture of the Muslim peoples, there are many again where the mixed picture of the lives of various communities are presented in a free and unfettered manner. In fact the tales of the latter type are more in number. There is a reason behind this. The tales from Arabia and Persia and Turkey merged themselves inextricably with the air and the water and the earth of Bengal, but since many of these tales were inherently of a superior order artistically, they exercised a tremendous influence on the trend of the peculiarly local tales and helped change and modify their character.


The Ant And the Pigeon

Tolstoy in Bangla. This responsibility of retranslating in Bangla has been performed by famous poet


The Secrets of Prirate Island

Audry has written a very enjoyable story of adventure for you. He is only a thirteen or fourteen years old school boy and lives in Indiana with his parents. His father teaches in the university of Indiana. I hope he would come back to Bangladesh some day with his parents and write stories for you in his mother tongue Bengali. 'The Secrets of Pirate Island' has been written in a foreign background. But the appeal of the story is universal and at least once you would find the brave boys in Bangladesh. I have read the book and enjoyed it enormously. I hope you will also enjoy reading it.


Ami And The Ice-Cream Seller

On the corner of the courtyard is a Margosa tree; and their leaves are good for health. On a branch of that tree a crow is cawing for a long time which is really annoying. Nevertheless, the surrounding trees are filled with amazing green leaves! Tiny colorful flowers blossomed all over the grasslands. Though the crow is still cawing but before that a dove was humming. Suddenly, a bird with various colors on its feather caught the eye-sight. "Rongeela", Ami decided to name this bird, which means colorful. At that very moment, his eyes caught a man wearing a blue half pant and a blue half-shirt. He is pushing a two wheeler wooden cart box. On the top of the box something


The New Girl

When Tassie’s parents get divorced, she changes schools and becomes the “new girl” in class. Painfully shy, Tassie worries about fitting in until she becomes friends with Rose and starts to enjoy her time there. But, Rose’s friends, Sam and The Reds, have other ideas. Caught between her friends, how will Rose help the new girl find her place in school? In a refreshingly simple story about friendship, jealousy, trust and “doing the right thing”, Kaya Hussain explores the various important layers in any relationship.