Love
A Thousand Splendid Suns
There are stories that live inside books, and then there are stories that live inside people. This is one of the latter. I met her in a moment of absolute chaos. The kind of moment where life breaks apart in slow motion—where the world becomes unrecognizable and grief wraps itself around your ribs like wire. We were strangers then. Just two women standing in the rubble of what used to be our homes.
By Muhammad Saleemabout a year ago in Fiction
Where We Left the Watch – Part 3: The Room With No Clock
Where We Left the Watch – Part 3: The Room With No Clock By Mahboob Khan It took me six days to text her after the call. Not because I didn’t want to. But because I did — more than I realized. And when something feels that important, you start to hesitate. You wonder if maybe the magic was in the distance, in the waiting, in the not-quite.
By Mahboob Khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Light
The Last Light – A Story of “Luminous” There was once a village wrapped in quiet hills and thick, whispering woods. It was a place time had mostly forgotten. The world beyond it rushed ahead with noise and invention, but the people of Velden lived slowly, holding onto rhythms older than clocks.
By Terence Lisherabout a year ago in Fiction
Where We Left the Watch
Where We Left the Watch By Mahboob Khan It started with a coincidence. Three years ago, I was digging through a box of old postcards at the Sunday flea market when a girl leaned over, picked one up, and said, “You’re holding the best one.”
By Mahboob Khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Brothers Beyond Blood: Ayaan and Arjun’s Last Stand
In the narrow lanes of Mumbai, where the smell of spicy chaat blends with the salty sea breeze, two boys grew up like brothers. Ayaan was gentle and kind-hearted. Even as a child, he dreamed of protecting others and believed deeply in fairness. His best friend, Arjun, was fearless and full of energy. He loved taking risks and always wanted more from life. They played cricket on dusty streets, shared lunch boxes filled with samosas and sweets, and celebrated Eid and Diwali together as if they were family. As kids, they promised each other under the stars, “No matter what happens, we will always stand together.” As they grew older, Ayaan worked hard to join the police force. He woke up before sunrise to run through the crowded streets and stayed up late studying. He believed that one honest man could still make a difference. Arjun, on the other hand, started hanging out with local hustlers. He craved fast money, power, and the thrill that came with danger. They still met in secret at their favorite tea stall near Marine Drive. With the waves crashing nearby, Ayaan would beg, “Arjun, please, you can still choose a different life.” But Arjun would just look at the sea and sigh, “Ayaan, the world isn’t as simple as you think. We don’t all get to be heroes.” One evening, Arjun confided in Ayaan, "I never wanted this life either, you know. But somewhere along the way, I felt there was no turning back." Ayaan held his hand tightly for a moment, hoping he might finally leave the gang. But Arjun pulled away, his eyes already distant. A few nights later, Ayaan received intel about a huge illegal arms deal at the docks. His senior officer ordered him to lead the raid. As he and his team slipped into the shadows of the warehouse, Ayaan felt a chill run down his spine. He saw a figure step forward — it was Arjun, holding a gun, his face pale in the moonlight. Their eyes locked, heavy with a thousand shared memories. “Ayaan! Leave now! I don’t want to hurt you,” Arjun shouted, his voice shaking. “Drop your gun, Arjun! Please, we can fix this together,” Ayaan pleaded, fighting back tears. Suddenly, gunshots echoed all around them. The warehouse turned into chaos as police and gang members exchanged fire. In the middle of the gun smoke and screams, Ayaan and Arjun charged at each other. They fought fiercely — punches, kicks, and all their bottled-up emotions exploded in those moments. Arjun struck hard, almost as if trying to push Ayaan away forever, while Ayaan tried to stop him without harming him. Finally, Ayaan managed to pin Arjun down and aimed his gun at him. But in that split second, Arjun lifted his gun too. Two shots rang out, loud and final. Ayaan fell beside Arjun, both of them gasping for breath on the cold floor. Their blood mixed slowly in the flickering light. Ayaan reached out, gripping Arjun’s trembling hand. “We could have left all this behind, started over somewhere… just like we dreamed when we were boys,” Ayaan whispered, his voice fading. Arjun gave a weak smile, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Maybe… in another life, brother,” he said. Under the dark Mumbai sky, with police sirens screaming closer, two boys who once promised to protect each other took their last breaths side by side. When the police finally entered, they found Ayaan and Arjun still holding hands. The sight shocked everyone. News spread through the neighborhoods where they once played cricket and shared sweets. Their story became a quiet reminder that even the strongest bonds can break under the weight of choices and fate. Yet in their final moments, they found each other again, even if only to say goodbye.
By Ubaid Ur Rehmanabout a year ago in Fiction
Bread across barbed wire
The Weight of Sweat The summer sun scorched the rooftops as Kurt dragged himself home from school, sweating lines down his dust-covered face. upon arriving home, his mother woke up, who was taking a siesta rest break. She woke up and fried yesterday’s cooked beans by adding some tomatoes and served him the meal. After making his lunch, his mother told him to check upon his father, who did not come to the lunch, which was unusual.
By Ihtisham ul haqabout a year ago in Fiction
