History
Continue the death story? Part 2
Part š¢2 I had already given my statement, but several questions still lingered in my mind. One question in particular kept nagging me: "Sadria, a 7-year-old girl, how did she end up alone outside on the charpoy in the freezing cold?" I tried to ask the girl's mother, but she was a Pashto speaker and didn't understand Urdu or Punjabi. Her eyes were filled with fear, and her face showed simplicity and helplessness. I asked her husband to translate: "Where did you put your daughter to sleep? Is it possible that she went outside on her own?" The mother looked silently at her husband, who translated: "My wife says she put Sadria to sleep with the other children in the room. When everyone fell asleep, she also went to sleep. After that, she doesn't know how the girl went outside."
By New stAr writer 6 months ago in Art
š The One Glance That Lost Everything
They say the dead donāt return. But one man tried. Orpheus ā the poet, the singer, the man whose music could move mountains ā once walked into the underworld for love. Not to conquer. Not for glory. But for Eurydice. His bride. The woman who died too soon, taken by a snakeās bite before their life together could begin.
By Zohre Hoseini6 months ago in Art
The Lamp in My Fatherās Room
The Lamp in My Fatherās Room The house smelled of old wood, rain-soaked soil, and memories. Arif hadnāt returned home in almost eight years. The city had become his worldāskyscrapers, meetings, deadlines. He had gone to chase success, to become āsomeone,ā as he used to say to his father during their arguments.
By Khalid khan6 months ago in Art
The Quest for the Glowing Blossom. AI-Generated.
In a small village nestled among lush forests, lived a girl named Layla, known for her curiosity and love for adventure. Every day, she wandered through the market, drawn to the warm aroma of fresh bread from Uncle Hassan's bakery. Uncle Hassan, the old baker, often told peculiar tales about a magical forest beyond the hills, but no one believed himāexcept Layla.
By Omar Mohammed 6 months ago in Art
š©ø Rituals Without Gods: The Occult Language of Dark Ambient . AI-Generated.
Dark ambient has always flirted with the occult. Not in the Hollywood sense of pentagrams and blood ritesābut in something deeper, older, and harder to define. Something that feels ritualistic, even when you donāt know why.
By Yokai Circle6 months ago in Art
šÆļø Loops Like Ritual: The Meditative Power of Repetition in Music . AI-Generated.
Thereās something sacred about repetition. In prayer. In breath. In walking. In waiting. In healing. In time. It shows up everywhere: the cycle of seasons, the tide rising and falling, the beating of your heart.
By The Yume Collective6 months ago in Art
Petals of Promisesš¹š¹š¹š¹š¹. AI-Generated.
In the Yellow Rose Garden, where flowers swayed under the spring breeze, four girls gathered near an old fountain. Laila, Salma, Nour, and Hind sat on a wooden bench, sharing laughter and secrets, though heavy hearts lingered beneath.
By Omar Mohammed 6 months ago in Art
The Hidden Threads of Ancient Greece in Our Modern World
Next time you walk beneath a stone arch, recite an oath, watch a play, or vote in an election, pause and listen closely! You may just hear the whispers of a world that never truly left us. Yes echoes of Ancient Greece!
By Strategy Hub6 months ago in Art
ENCORE OF THE DAMNED
THE BONES BENEATH THE STAGE BY ZAHIR SHAH The first time I heard the walls breathe, I thought it was tinnitus ā the high-pitched whine leftover from a decade of mixing live sound for bands that worshipped volume as a sacrament. But this was different. Lower. Resonant. A slow, rhythmic huuuhhhhā¦ haaaahhhh that seemed to vibrate up through the worn soles of my boots from the very foundations of the old Grand Lyric Theatre. It wasnāt in my ears; it was in my bones.
By Zahir Shah6 months ago in Art
š³ļø The Architecture of Absence: How Silence Shapes Dark Ambient Music . AI-Generated.
In most music, silence is seen as a pauseāa rest between notes, a breath between words, a delay before the next drop. But in dark ambient, silence is not a pause. Itās the canvas.
By Yokai Circle6 months ago in Art
