My Stories .

Posted on March 22, 2023 by Aman Singh Solanki


This is an excerpt from a book I read called Mrityunjay, which means someone who has conquered death. Based on the life story of Karna, this book truly mesmerized me and still remains my all time favourite to this day...

Posted on March 19, 2023 by Aman Singh Solanki

The Futile Skill

This is a bedtime story I heard in my childhood. May be thats why it's close to my heart. It's a story of about how something which is worthless today, can turn out be valuable tomorrow; and how any tough situation could be overcome, with courage and clever thinking...

Posted on February 3, 2023 by Aman Singh Solanki

The Weakness

The story of a boy named Heiwa who had a dream. Fate is an unreliable ally and a true teacher your path to salvation. Answers are usually found where you least expect them, only if you are willing to look...

The best excerpt ever written.

In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl. A great black shape against the fires beyond he loomed up, grown to a vast menace of despair. In rode the Lord of the Nazgûl, under the archway that no enemy ever yet had passed, and all fled before his face.
All save one. There waiting, silent and still in the space before the Gate, sat Gandalf upon Shadowfax: Shadowfax who alone among the free horses of the earth endured the terror, unmoving, steadfast as a graven image in Rath Dínen.
"You cannot enter here," said Gandalf, and the huge shadow halted. "Go back to the abyss prepared for you! Go back! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your Master. Go!
The Black Rider flung back his hood, and behold! he had a kingly crown; and yet upon no head visible was it set. The red fires shone between it and the mantled shoulders vast and dark. From a mouth unseen there came a deadly laughter.
"Old fool!" he said. "Old fool! This is my hour. Do you not know Death when you see it? Die now and curse in vain!" And with that he lifted high his sword and flames ran down the blade.
And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the city, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, recking nothing of war nor of wizardry, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn.
And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns, in dark Mindolluin's sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the north wildly blowing. Rohan had come at last.

–J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings: The Re­turn of the King, "The Siege of Gon­dor" (Art by Angus McBride)