The Price of Success

Date: 27/02/2025

( C ) All right reserved by the author

In our modern society, success is often celebrated as the pinnacle of achievement. We are taught to chase awards, promotions, and wealth from an early age. Yet, behind every headline of “success” lies a hidden cost. The pursuit of success demands long hours, relentless effort, and, often, the sacrifice of personal relationships and inner peace.

Many of us measure success solely by external achievements—a corner office, a high bank balance, or public accolades. However, when we look closer, we see that such achievements sometimes come at the expense of our health, happiness, and the quality of our connections with others. Have you ever wondered if the price you pay in stress and isolation is worth the status you gain?

Consider the countless individuals who achieve their dreams, only to later regret the missed moments with family, the lost opportunities for self-care, or the inability to truly enjoy their accomplishments. Perhaps real success lies in finding balance—cultivating meaningful relationships, nurturing one’s mental and physical health, and enjoying the journey rather than just the destination.

What is your definition of success?

Reflect on your own journey. Is success defined by accolades, or is it measured by the simple, yet priceless moments of connection and contentment? Reevaluate your goals, and ask yourself: does your definition of success honor both achievement and well-being?

Follow me on 

Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5 | Email: rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com | Website: http://www.rajatchandrasarmah.com

PROUD TO BE A CO- AUTHOR OF THIS PRESTIGIOUS ANTHOLOGY PETAL 2025

UNWRITTEN VERSES

Part Five: The Love Defiant

( C )ALL RIGHT RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR

The world had opinions. Some called it scandalous, others whispered that it was fleeting, a mistake waiting to happen. But love doesn’t follow a script. It simply exists, defiant and unyielding.

We moved in together a year later. It wasn’t a grand announcement—it was a quiet decision made over morning coffee, fingers intertwined across the table.

“Are you sure?” she asked, searching my face for doubt.

I smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “Evelyn, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And so, we built a life. A life of whispered poetry, of Sunday mornings in bed, of love letters left between the pages of books. Time tried to remind us of its presence, but we ignored it. Because in love, time meant nothing.

When I asked her to marry me, she laughed, tears shining in her eyes. “You’re still too young to know what forever means.”

I cupped her face, my voice steady. “Then let’s prove them wrong.”

And we did. Year after year, against all odds, we wrote a story no one else could have written. A story where age was a number, but love was eternal.

Because true love is not measured in years—it is measured in moments, in choices, in the courage to stand against the world and say, This is mine.

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH 

GUWAHATI , ASSAM INDIA

26/02/2025

I may be contacted

INSTAGRAM : rajatchandrasarmah5

Email ID : rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

Web site :www.rajatchandrasarmah.com

Relaxing with nature

Good morning my friends and readers.

Do enjoy nature sometimes , Will be relaxed and rejuvenated. 

“The Power of Rain” (Poetry)

@All rights reserved by the author.

Instagram : @rajatchandrasarmah5

Email: rajatchandrasarmah@gmail.com

website : http://www.rajatchandrasarmah.com

“The Power of Rain”( 1)

“Silver threads weave through the sky,
A lullaby soft, a tempest high,
A whispering kiss, or a storm’s loud cry.”


Posted earlier on 18/02/2025

“The Power of Rain”(2)

“It kisses the earth, revives the streams,
Feeds the fields, fulfills our dreams,
Yet drowns the streets with silent screams.”

 Posted earlier on 20/02/2025

musingofrajat.wordpress.com

“The Power of Rain” (3 )

“Rain – a gift, a curse, or both?
Does it soothe or bring despair?
Tell us what rain means to you!”

posted on 25/2/2025

A night camping at Chandubi Lake , Assam .

(c) All right reserved

Instagram :@ rajatchandrasarmah5

GOOD MORNING TO MY READERS AND FRIENDS .

UNWRITTEN VERSES

Part Four: The Fire and the Fear

( C )ALL RIGHT RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR

INSTAGRAM : rajatchandrasarmah5

The first kiss was slow, tentative. Her lips were soft, tasting like rain and tea. My fingers grazed her jaw, tracing the damp strands of hair clinging to her skin. She trembled slightly, and I wasn’t sure if it was from hesitation or something else entirely.

“We shouldn’t,” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away.

“Do you want to stop?” I asked.

Her breath hitched. She didn’t answer right away. Then, finally, she said, “No.”

And just like that, something shifted.

She kissed me again, deeper this time. Months of stolen glances, unspoken words, and lingering touches came crashing down in that moment. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine.

GUWAHATI , ASSAM INDIA

When we finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against my chest. “This is reckless.”

I exhaled a laugh. “So?”

She smiled against my skin. “So, maybe recklessness isn’t always bad.”

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH 

24/02/2025

Relaxing at Andamans , India

Good morning my dear readers and friends

UNWRITTEN VERSES

Part Three: The rain and the unsaid

( C )ALL RIGHT RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR

INSTAGRAM : rajatchandrasarmah5

The first time she let me in—really let me in—was on a Sunday afternoon. We had been walking in the park, the golden light filtering through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the pavement. Then the rain came, sudden and heavy, soaking us in seconds.

Instead of running, she laughed, tilting her face up to the sky. The droplets clung to her lashes, sliding down her cheeks like diamonds.

“You’re insane,” I said, shaking my head, grinning despite myself.

“Maybe,” she replied. “But why run from something so beautiful?”

Before I could answer, she grabbed my wrist. “Come on,” she said, leading me toward her car. “I’m not letting you walk home like a drenched puppy.”

Her loft was warm, the air rich with the scent of books and cinnamon. She tossed me a towel, her eyes lingering on mine for a moment too long before she turned away.

I dried my hair, watching her as she moved around the kitchen, making tea. She was still damp, her blouse clinging slightly, her hair messier than usual. And yet, she was breathtaking.

“This isn’t normal,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the rim of a coffee mug.

I swallowed hard. “Maybe normal isn’t for us.”

She looked at me then—really looked at me. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

I took a step closer. “Then tell me.”

And for a long, suspended moment, she hesitated. Then, with a shaky breath, she closed the distance between us.

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH 

GUWAHATI , ASSAM INDIA

23/02/2025

The Sea And Beach always fascinated  me

Good morning to my readers and friends