HEART GOT CRACKS

The little girl loved colors—how fascinating was the endless blue of the sky, the bright yellow of her mother’s daal, the soft white of her father’s kurta. How could one not love colors? She played with them, spilled them over the floor, and was always lost in their world.

She was so lost that she never noticed the cracks on the walls of her home—long, deep lines that made everything look old and worn out. One day, as she stared at them, her best friend said, "Why don’t you paint around them? Make them look beautiful." Something about that idea just felt right.

So, she grabbed her paints and got to work. The biggest crack turned into the golden rays of the sun. The smaller ones became trees, rivers, and valleys. Soon, the wall wasn’t broken anymore—it was full of colors and full of life. People praised her for it. They called it art. But she knew—the real magic wasn’t in the colors. It was in the friend who made her believe she could do it.

Some friends are like that. They don’t just fix walls; they fix us. They see something beautiful in us when we don’t. They remind us that even broken things can turn into something special.

So dear best friend, thank you for fixing the cracks that only you could see within me.

(Dedicating this to my dearest - Ketaki and Arshad)