Arjun was an ordinary young man with an extraordinary habit—he listened closely to his own thoughts.
Not the loud ones people boast about, but the quiet whispers that spoke when no one else was around.
Every morning, he stood before a small cracked mirror and thought, "I am unlucky. Nothing ever works for me."
And strangely, nothing ever did.
He missed buses by seconds.
Opportunities slipped through his fingers.
People underestimated him—and slowly, he began to agree with them.
One evening, after another day gone wrong, Arjun met an old gardener sitting beneath a banyan tree. The man was humming softly, smiling at the dirt under his nails.
"What are you smiling at?" Arjun asked bitterly.
The gardener looked up.
"I planted good seeds today."
"But you don't know if they'll grow," Arjun replied.
The gardener nodded.
"True. But I know what I planted."
That sentence stayed with Arjun.
That night, instead of fighting his thoughts, he watched them. He realized something frightening—his thoughts weren't reacting to reality; they were creating it.
So he tried something small.
The next morning, he looked into the same cracked mirror and said,
"I am learning. I am improving."
Nothing magical happened that day.
But something didn't go wrong either.
Days passed. His thoughts softened.
"I can try."
"I can grow."
"I deserve better."
And reality began to shift—quietly, patiently.
People responded differently.
Opportunities appeared where none existed before.
Failures still came, but they no longer felt like verdicts—just lessons.
Months later, Arjun returned to the banyan tree. The gardener was gone, but small green shoots had broken through the soil.
Arjun smiled.
He finally understood:
Thoughts are seeds.
The mind is soil.
Reality is the harvest.