Parched was the sky scattered with puffs cottony the blazing heat ball piercing the horizon with raw agony yet the farmer plowed the land and toiled and bruised, drenched in sweat heavens up above gambled and strings of silvery clouds won the bet.   Unhurried and carefree, wandered the little child o’ what fun are Read more…

Once upon a time, there lived a farmer in the village of Sidhi. His name was Moghe Ram. He and his wife lived in a small hut. They owned a small plot of land, where Moghe Ram toiled all day. One day, while plowing through the field, Moghe Ram’s shovel hit something under the ground. Read more…