tv review
Reviews of TV series depicting onscreen affairs of the human heart.
Rafael Devers
Rafael Devers is one of the brightest stars in Major League Baseball (MLB) today. He plays for the Boston Red Sox, one of the most famous baseball teams in the world. Known for his powerful bat and exciting style of play, Devers has become a fan favorite in Boston and across the country.
By Farhan Sayedabout a year ago in Humans
The Silence After the Roar: Ahmadabad June 12 2025
The afternoon heat in Ahmadabad on June 12th had been relentless, a familiar blanket of humidity that usually settled over the city, lulling it into a languid rhythm. At Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel International Airport, Air India Flight AI171, a Boeing 787 Dreamliner, prepared for its journey to London Gatwick. Passengers, a mix of families, professionals, and dreamers, settled into their seats, some already lost in the anticipation of reunion, others in the quiet solitude of departure.
By Digital Dreamerabout a year ago in Humans
The Hearts Whisper and Shadows Linger. Content Warning.
On a rain-soaked evening in a city that had seen too many heartbreaks and fleeting romances, Lena found herself wandering under the warm glow of streetlights. Each droplet that slipped down the cobblestone resembled tiny memories of a past too painful to bury. Lena had once believed love was the answer to every ache, a promise of tomorrow’s magic. Yet now, haunted by the echo of promises broken, she wondered if trust in love was nothing more than a fairy tale spun to soothe aching hearts.
By Edge Alexanderabout a year ago in Humans
A Cycle of Suffering in Gaza
The Fragile Ceasefire The guns fell silent on November 24, 2023, marking Gaza's first dawn in seven weeks without the mechanical whine of drones. As the pale winter sun rose over shattered neighborhoods, people emerged like ghosts from the rubble. Um Youssef, a 58-year-old grandmother, knelt in what remained of her kitchen, sifting through broken dishes with trembling hands. "This was where I made maqluba every Friday," she told a neighbor, her voice cracking as she held up a single surviving coffee cup.
By Muhammad Israrabout a year ago in Humans
The End is Seen with Reason, Not Emotion | Emotional Logic Article.
The End is Seen with Reason... Not with Tears. Some people don’t need to live every hard moment to know how something will end. They can look ahead and feel what’s coming. These people often get called cold or heartless. But really, they just see things differently. They use both the heart and the mind.
By Sayed Zewayedabout a year ago in Humans
Breaking Free from Perfectionism: Embracing the Imperfections of Being Human
Breaking Free from Perfectionism: Embracing the Imperfections of Being Human Introduction From the earliest days of childhood, many of us are taught to strive for perfection. We get high marks, awards, and praise for our flawless appearance. In a world that celebrates idealism and perfection, anything less can feel like failure. But this pursuit of flawlessness often comes at a cost: anxiety, self-doubt, exhaustion, and a disconnect from our authentic selves.
By Afia Sikderabout a year ago in Humans
Bilal ibn Rabah (RA): The Voice of Freedom
Chapter 1: The Chains of Slavery Long before the call to prayer echoed from the minarets of Medina, a man was chained in the burning sands of Makkah. His skin was dark, his body frail, but his heart—unshakable. His name was Bilal ibn Rabah.
By Anees Khanabout a year ago in Humans
The Modern Day Jane Austen
Last September, I (accidentally) got the honour of being at the world premiere of Jane Austen Wrecked My Life (2025) written and directed by Laura Piani. And finally it is coming to theatres in North America on May 23rd! So I am here today to share some of my thoughts on the movie and to encourage any/all Austen fans or lovers of rom-coms to go see Jane Austen Wrecked My Life.
By The Austen Shelfabout a year ago in Humans
A Father's Love A Son's strength
In a small village nestled between green hills, lived a humble carpenter named Rahim and his only son, Ayaan. Rahim had lost his wife when Ayaan was just a baby, and since then, the boy became his entire world. From the moment Ayaan could walk, he would follow his father everywhere — to the workshop, the fields, even the mosque. Rahim, though quiet and stern, loved Ayaan more than words could express. He worked long hours carving wood, making tables and chairs, just to give Ayaan a better future. Every night, after a simple dinner, Rahim would light a lantern, sit Ayaan on his lap, and tell him stories — of prophets, of kings, of bravery and kindness. Ayaan would listen with wide eyes, asking questions, dreaming big. "One day," Rahim would say, "you'll study in the city. You’ll become something greater than I ever could." Years passed, and Ayaan did grow. He became smart, respectful, and curious. His teachers praised him, saying he had the heart of a leader. Rahim sold half his land and his precious old tools to pay for Ayaan’s admission into a college in the city. The day Ayaan left, Rahim stood by the dusty road holding back tears. He didn’t say much, just placed his hand on Ayaan’s shoulder and said, “Make me proud, my son.” City life was fast and loud. Ayaan struggled at first — the studies were hard, and the people spoke differently. But he remembered his father’s tired hands and sleepless nights, and that gave him strength. He studied late into the night, worked small jobs, and slowly, he began to rise. Years flew by. Ayaan graduated with honors and got a good job in a big company. He would send money home, write letters often, and call his father every Friday. But he was always busy. Work meetings, promotions, a new life. His visits back home became rare. One winter, Ayaan finally returned. He had a car now, nice clothes, and a tired face. The village looked smaller, the house older. But when he saw his father, standing outside the same old door, holding the same warm smile, Ayaan felt like a child again. Rahim had aged. His beard was whiter, his hands more bent. Yet his eyes sparkled the same. They sat under the neem tree, where Rahim had once carved Ayaan’s name into the bark. They talked for hours. Rahim listened proudly, though he didn’t understand much about city life or business. “I did what you wanted, Baba,” Ayaan said softly. Rahim nodded. “I know. But remember, success is not just in titles. It’s in the heart. Stay kind. Stay grounded.” Ayaan nodded. That night, they prayed together, ate together, and laughed like old times. A year later, Rahim fell ill. Ayaan rushed home, leaving everything behind. He stayed by his father’s side, fed him, changed his clothes, read him the Qur’an. The strong man who once carried him on his shoulders now leaned on Ayaan for support. Before passing away, Rahim held his son’s hand tightly and whispered, “You’ve always been my greatest work.” Ayaan buried his father under the same neem tree, where the wind carried the smell of sawdust and old memories. He left the city job and returned to the village. Not because he failed, but because he understood now: life was not just about rising — it was about roots. He reopened his father’s workshop, taught village kids how to work with wood, told them stories by lantern light, and every evening, he’d sit under the tree and talk to his father in silence.
By Mueez khan about a year ago in Humans
