My journal by KAVYA SHARMA https://padlet.com/kavyasisn03616/w22vvocyq3gsmdg3 en-us 2025-08-04 06:24:43 UTC 2025-08-11 06:18:55 UTC hello@padlet.com https://padlet.net/icons/png/1f4d3.png Memory Chain kavyasisn03616 https://padlet.com/kavyasisn03616/w22vvocyq3gsmdg3/wish/3539782397 I felt nostalgic. When I was younger, there was one Diwali that still stays with me. I was sitting quietly in a room, and everyone thought I was simply resting or daydreaming. But I had found a small bottle filled with powder. I started taking it out, slowly, watching it fall and spread across the floor.

The room gradually filled with powder, softly covering everything. I wasn’t making noise, just exploring, curious about how it looked and felt. When my parents walked in, they were surprised. They hadn’t expected this calm space to turn into a powder-covered scene.

For me, that moment wasn’t about mischief or trouble. It was about how silence can hold its own kind of story—one that’s quiet, gentle, and still remembered.

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