日本語
It was the night of March 3rd. Aryan stared at the mountain of books on his desk, his eyelids drooping like weary curtains. Outside his window, the rest of the colony slept. Inside, only the buzz of the tube-light and the faint smell of old paper kept him company.
Aryan’s eyes sparkled.
He wrote one line: "This book doesn't give you answers. It gives you the courage to find them."
His father looked up from his newspaper, a slow smile spreading across his face. "That's my boy."
