Gentle Tales Corner

Scene 2 — Before the World Wakes

The next day, he woke up early as always. Getting up before sunrise had become his habit. He loved watching the sunrise.

After that, he made coffee—one cup for himself and another for his wife. She always loved this little gesture of his.

They sat on the balcony, enjoying their coffee while watching the sunrise. They didn't say anything. They simply sat there and felt the moment.

Sometimes she sat on another chair, and sometimes she sat in his lap. This was their favourite routine for starting the day.

If he didn't do this, his day felt incomplete.

Scene 1 - A Peaceful Evening

A man sat quietly in his lawn, a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The gentle breeze moved softly around him as he immersed himself in the world of his story, unaware of everything else.

Suddenly, a noise pulled him back to reality.

He looked up to see his children arguing and laughing at the same time, their playful fight filling the space with life. Nearby, his wife stood watching them in silence, a soft smile resting on her face.

He glanced at her. She didn’t say a word—just smiled and continued watching the children, enjoying their mischief.

He closed his book, set it aside, and walked over to her. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he rested quietly beside her.

Together, they watched.

In that moment, nothing else mattered.

This was his dream—simple, complete, and real.

A family.

A quiet home.

A peaceful life.

What is a heavy heart?

What is this burden we suddenly feel?

It begins in a quiet moment—when you want to do something, something natural, something creative. But then, you stop. A thought interrupts you: Should I do it or not?

Your mind steps in.

It starts comparing—advantages, disadvantages, outcomes, consequences. What was once a simple impulse turns into a debate. And in that moment, something inside you tightens.

That is when the heart begins to feel heavy.

Because creativity does not survive in comparison. It flows freely, without calculation. But when you restrict it—when you force it through logic, fear, and overthinking—you slowly suffocate it.

The more you think, the more you analyze, the less you create.

And then comes the burden.

A strange feeling… where you are breathing, yet it feels like you are not. Your chest feels full, yet empty at the same time. Not because something is physically wrong—but because something within you has been held back.

Your creativity.

And when creativity fades, it doesn’t leave quietly.

It leaves behind a weight.

A silence.

A heaviness that settles deep in your heart.

People think they are searching for happiness, but most of the time, they are trying to escape something.

But if you really want to find it, why run? Why not just look around?

Happiness is not always far away. Sometimes it sits quietly in a cup of coffee, or in the sound of rain tapping against the window.

Yet when it starts to rain, people close their doors and hide inside.

What could be more beautiful than watching raindrops fall from the sky and disappear into the earth?

There is a strange calm in it. And when the mind becomes calm, you don’t have to search for happiness—it finds you.

Maybe that’s the problem.

We keep escaping, when all we really need to do… is stay.

Then why do people escape?

Are they afraid of something, or do they simply not want to face anything at all?

Escaping is never a solution. It is only a delay.

A quiet postponement of something that will eventually demand your attention.

Because sooner or later, life makes sure you face reality.

So instead of running, maybe we should stay.

Stay… and face what is in front of us.

And maybe, just maybe, the problem is not as big as we imagine it to be.

What if it was never as heavy as it felt in our minds?

And what if, on the other side of facing it,

you find the one thing you were running after all along—

not escape… but peace.

So what happens if you stop escaping?

Will everything change overnight?

Will your problems suddenly disappear, and your life turn into something you once dreamed of?

No.

Nothing like that happens.

Escaping only delays things.

But staying… and facing what’s in front of you, is a step toward something better.

Escape gives you nothing but burden and guilt.

But when you stop, and finally face the music, something begins to shift.

You start to notice a change within yourself.

A quiet, steady change.

And slowly, without even realizing it,

you move closer to the one thing you were searching for all along—

not success, not perfection…

but peace.

A grown-up wakes up early, rushing so they won’t be late for work.

A child runs to school.

A teenager sits in college wondering about the future.

An old man takes his medicine on time, trying to stay healthy.

Birds search for food.

Squirrels run from tree to tree.

Everyone is chasing something.

But what is life?

We try to make it perfect.

We try to control it.

We plan, calculate, and protect ourselves from uncertainty.

Yet life is beautiful because we don’t know what will happen next.

If we knew every success, every failure, every goodbye, every surprise —

life would become a schedule, not an experience.

Fear comes because hope exists.

If you hope for nothing, you fear nothing.

If you love nothing, you lose nothing.

But a person with nothing to lose is not strong —

he is empty.

Hope gives direction.

Fear becomes the engine that makes you work harder.

Surprise is what waits for you, whether you accept it or not.

People often forget they are already living the life they once prayed for.

They reach their destination and immediately start chasing the next one.

Maybe life isn’t something to perfect.

Maybe it’s something to notice.

To feel the sunlight before entering work.

To laugh in school corridors.

To sit quietly at night and realize you are alive.

Life is hope.

Fear is the engine.

Surprise is the truth.

And the beauty of it all is that you don’t know what the next moment holds.

I am a dust particle flying in the vast desert, bathed in warm sunlight.

I fly like a bird. I feel like I can reach the sky.

I am the happiest being right now, because I am flying.

I can fly higher than birds.

I can feel the wind. I can feel the warm sunlight.

I want to cross the oceans.

I want to circle the earth.

What if I were an alarm bell?

What would I do?

Do you think I should wait for someone to set an alarm,

or should I set one myself so I can be useful?

I am tired of waiting for someone to use me,

to set an alarm so I can ring happily.

I want to shout out loud,

“Hey, it’s time. Notice me. I am ringing.”

Don’t ignore me.

You set an alarm — this must be for something important or useful.

Don’t just ignore me.

Tell me, why did you set an alarm?

Talk to me.

But no one is using me right now.

I am useless, bored, waiting for my stupid owner to use me,

to set an alarm — even if it’s for time pass.

Do something.

Let me ring once so I can breathe.

I am an alarm bell,

waiting here