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Divyesh Patel
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Destiny is No matter of Chance , It's matter of Choice...
Destiny is No matter of Chance , It's matter of Choice...

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Hunters in the Snow by Tobias Wolff
T ub had been waiting for an hour in the falling snow. He paced the sidewalk to keep warm and stuck his head out over the curb whenever he saw lights approaching. One driver stopped for him but before Tub could wave the man on he saw the rifle on Tub's back...
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Humiliation by Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)
T he two young women had the appearance of being buried in a bed of flowers. They were alone in an immense landau filled with bouquets like a giant basket. Upon the seat before them were two small hampers full of Nice violets, and upon the bearskin which co...
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A Humble Drama by Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)
M eetings that are unexpected constitute the charm of traveling. Who has not experienced the joy of suddenly coming across a Parisian, a college friend, or a neighbor, five hundred miles from home? Who has not passed a night awake in one of those small, rat...
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How the Leopard Got His Spots by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
I n the days when everybody started fair, Best Beloved, the Leopard lived in a place called the High Veldt. 'Member it wasn't the Low Veldt, or the Bush Veldt, or the Sour Veldt, but the 'sclusively bare, hot, shiny High Veldt, where there was sand and sand...
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How Santa Claus Came to Simpson's Bar by Bret Harte (1836-1902)
I t had been raining in the valley of the Sacramento. The North Fork had overflowed its banks and Rattlesnake Creek was impassable. The few boulders that had marked the summer ford at Simpson's Crossing were obliterated by a vast sheet of water stretching t...
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A Haunted House by Virginia Woolf (1882-1941)
W hatever hour you woke there was a door shutting. From room to room they went, hand in hand, lifting here, opening there, making sure--a ghostly couple. "Here we left it," she said. And he added, "Oh, but here tool" "It's upstairs," she murmured. "And in t...
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The Hand by Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)
A ll were crowding around M. Bermutier, the judge, who was giving his opinion about the Saint-Cloud mystery. For a month this in explicable crime had been the talk of Paris. Nobody could make head or tail of it. M. Bermutier, standing with his back to the f...
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The Hairpin by Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)
I will not record the name either of the country or of the man concerned. It was far, very far from this part of the world, on a fertile and scorching sea-coast. All morning we had been following a coast clothed with crops and a blue sea clothed in sunlight...
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Haircut by Ring Lardner (1885-1933)
I got another barber that comes over from Carterville and helps me out Saturdays, but the rest of the time I can get along all right alone. You can see for yourself that this ain't no New York: City and besides that, the most of the boys works all day and d...
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