Once in a bustling city, there lived a woman named Maya. She, like the poet, believed in avoiding disputes and cherishing the power of words. Her love for books and writing was unwavering. She spent her days working at a small bookstore, and her evenings penning down her thoughts and ideas.

Maya had never experienced a crush, for she had fallen in love with herself, not in a narcissistic way, but in a way that filled her with self-compassion and self-belief. She was never judgmental, embracing people from all walks of life, and she cared for everyone who crossed her path.

Her days were a peaceful rhythm. She woke up early, opened her little store, and greeted her customers with a warm smile. She'd often recommend books that could change their lives or simply brighten their day. As the evening sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, she would close her shop and retreat to her cozy writing corner,...