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"I Was Wrong” — A Tribute to the One Who Always Stood By Me | By Joss Collen

Life has a way of teaching us lessons too late. Sometimes, we only realize the value of a person after they’re no longer around. That’s the story behind my upcoming song “I Was Wrong” — a heartfelt tribute to my grandmother, the one person who never gave up on me, even when I was too childish to see it. 💔 The Heart of the Song My grandmother wasn’t just family — she was a force of love and protection. While the world seemed to turn against me, she was the one who stood by my side. She fought for me, defended me, and believed in me when no one else did. Yet, in my youthful mischievousness, I didn’t always understand her value. I made fun of her sometimes — of her age, her habits, the little things that now feel like precious memories. I didn’t see the countless sacrifices she made. I didn’t realize how rare it is to have someone who truly loves you without conditions. “I Was Wrong” was born out of this realization — a mix of regret, nostalgia, and hope. A song that carries the words I ...
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6.Who is Joss Collen?

The Story of a Small-Town Underdog Turning Pain Into Power Through Music Joss Collen – Indian Singer, Songwriter Rapper, and Content Creator Joss Collen was born on September 2, 2004, in India, and began his music journey as a passionate teen with multi talented like Singing, song writing and Comedy, He also loves to skate and play games. Joss's real name is "Shivam Prasad Mahto",Also known As Joss Collen is an Indian singer, rapper, and content creator whose music blends raw emotion, quirky humor, and real-life storytelling. Known for his breakout track "Drama in Aisle Five", Joss is quickly becoming a voice for young people who feel misunderstood, unseen, or simply in need of a real friend online. Born in India, Joss grew up facing social challenges and discrimination — not because of anything he did, but because of where he came from. Like many kids who feel like outcasts, he learned to bottle up his feelings, escape into anime, music, and imagina...
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5.The Second Day at the Iron Factory – My Body vs. My Will

Hey everyone… I know it’s been almost 3 months since I posted Part 2. I’m truly sorry for the delay. Life got hectic, my own journey took wild turns, and honestly—I was afraid to return to this part of the story. But I’m back, and I’m finishing it now. Part 2   The Second Day at the Iron Factory – My Body vs. My Will I woke up the next morning at 6 AM, not because I wanted to—but because futtor shook me like an alarm clock with anger issues. “Get up, breakfast won’t cook itself!” he barked. My body? Broken. Every bone felt like it had filed a complaint against me. My arms, my legs, even my eyelids hurt. But I dragged myself up, washed my face with cold water from a rusted steel bucket, and started kneading the dough with whatever strength I had left. The chapatis came out oddly shaped, some too thick, some barely edible. But futtor didn’t care—as long as food hit the plate, he was satisfied. I cooked, served, and ate last. Typical. No Time to Heal By 8 AM, I was back on the factory...
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4.My First Day at the Iron Factory – A Journey of Sweat, Pain, and Survival

The First Day At Iron Factory I arrived at the factory gate, drenched in sweat and rain. The air was thick with the smell of burning iron, and a huge dome loomed over the company grounds. I registered my name in the security guard’s logbook, feeling a mix of curiosity and tension. My friend's little cousin(futtor) was already waiting for me. Without much talk, he led me to his room—just 50 meters from the gate. As we walked, I couldn't ignore the constant clanking of metal and the fierce heat radiating from the furnace. Everywhere I looked, there were piles of scrap iron being melted down and transformed into massive 6-foot rectangular poles. It was clear—the factory's job was to recycle waste iron, mold it into these enormous blocks, and likely ship them out for further use. When we finally reached the room, I quickly changed my clothes and then asked in a thick accent that sounded like a mix of Bihari and something else, asked me, “Are you hungry?” I was starving. I said,...
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