Aman Ullah
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Stories (26)
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The Language of Love
Emma Whitman, a travel blogger from Seattle, had always been drawn to languages that spoke to the soul. Urdu, with its poetic elegance, fascinated her deeply. She enrolled in a three-week course in Islamabad, not knowing that this journey would lead her to something far beyond alphabets and grammar – it would lead her to love. Her instructor, Zayan Ali, was a man of quiet charm, deeply rooted in his culture. Their first meeting was simple – a polite greeting and a shared smile – yet an invisible thread seemed to pull them toward each other. Each day, Zayan introduced Emma to new words, but more than the language, it was his passion for poetry, art, and the beauty of expression that captivated her. “This word,” he said one afternoon, writing محبت (mohabbat) on the board, “means love. But in Urdu, it is more than a word. It is a feeling you carry in your soul.” Emma repeated softly, “Mohabbat…” and Zayan felt the syllables echo in his chest like a whisper he could not ignore.
By Aman Ullah5 months ago in Fiction
The Message Written in the Sky
It was a quiet night, and the world seemed to hold its breath under a canopy of stars. Ali, a 22-year-old astronomy student, sat cross-legged on the rooftop of his modest house, his telescope angled toward the sky like a silent sentinel. Since childhood, he had been fascinated by the stars, often wondering if they were more than just glowing specks of gas suspended in an infinite void. But tonight, the stars had something unusual to share.
By Aman Ullah5 months ago in Fiction
"Master These 10 Rules to Win Big in Life"
Introduction Success is not an accident—it is the result of intentional actions, consistent habits, and strategic thinking. In a world full of distractions, only those who master certain principles rise above the average. These rules are not just motivational fluff; they are proven methods followed by the world's top performers, entrepreneurs, leaders, and visionaries.
By Aman Ullah5 months ago in Fiction
From Hate to Love
Ayan Khan was the pride of his college — a cricket star known for his sharp mind and leadership skills. He had always been the center of attention, admired by many, envied by some, and respected by all. People saw him as confident and untouchable, but behind that confident exterior was a young man driven by ambition and the pressure to always be the best.
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
“From Rivalry to Romance”
Ayan Khan had always been the pride of his college’s cricket team — confident, sharp, and a born leader. His name echoed in corridors not just for his sportsmanship, but also for his razor-sharp wit and charm. Professors liked him, juniors admired him, and most of the campus secretly wished to be in his circle.
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
Her Voice Note at 2AM
Story: It was exactly 2:07 AM when Hadi’s phone buzzed on the nightstand beside his bed. He blinked awake, squinting at the bright screen. Maybe another food discount message or a pointless app notification. But what popped up made his breath catch:
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
Love in a Library Aisle
The city of Prague had always been a haven for dreamers and thinkers. Its narrow cobbled streets and ancient buildings whispered stories from centuries past. But for Emma, a 29-year-old translator, the city’s charm often felt distant and muted. She found solace only in the old city library — a grand building with high ceilings and walls lined from floor to ceiling with books that smelled of history and secrets.
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
The Last Train to Love
A Cold Platform It was 8:30 pm on a grey November night in London. The crowd at St. Pancras Station moved like waves — purposeful, busy, and unaware of the quiet hearts that passed among them. Anna Morgan stood on Platform 6, her breath visible in the cold, clutching a cup of lukewarm coffee and a worn leather satchel. Her train — the 8:47 pm Eurostar to Paris — was the last one that night.
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
Ways to Say “I Miss You” Creatively — Ek Dil Chhoone Wali Kahani
Kabhi kabhi lafz “I miss you” itne mamooli lagte hain ke woh dil ki gehraiyon ko bayan nahi kar paate. Yeh jazba sirf doori nahi, balki dil ki ek gehri khwahish, yaad aur chahat hoti hai jo har lafz ke beghair hi samajh aati hai. Meri kahani bhi isi jazbe se shuru hoti hai, jab main apni sabse qareebi dost Sara se door ho gaya.
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
Little Texts, Big Love: How Tiny Messages Saved Our Spark
I used to think that keeping the spark alive meant surprise trips, fancy candlelit dinners, or expensive gifts. But I learned something extraordinary from the person I love: sometimes it’s the tiniest, cutest texts that keep the fire burning even brighter.
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
Romantic Promises You Can Text Daily
They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but no one ever tells you how painful it truly is to love someone you can’t touch, can’t hold, can’t simply sit next to in silence. We lived miles apart, in different cities, under different skies, yet somehow under the same spell of love that refused to break despite all odds. In the beginning, our calls were long and filled with laughter, our chats playful and endless. But as days turned into months, the distance began whispering cruel things in our ears. Doubts sneaked in like uninvited guests. Was she still mine? Was I still enough for her heart that could be tempted by someone nearer, someone real and tangible? One lonely evening, when my mind was a battlefield of love and fear, I decided to do something reckless yet sincere. I texted her, “Let’s try something new. From today, I’ll send you one promise every single day. Some will be tiny, some deep, but each one will be a thread pulling our hearts closer.” The first promise was simple, almost childish: “I promise to always say goodnight, no matter how tired I am.” The next day, it grew braver: “I promise to be patient with your silences.” By the end of the week, I found myself writing things I had never dared to say aloud, like “I promise to never let our fights mean more than our love.” And she… oh God, she surprised me in ways that still warm my chest. She would reply with her own gentle vows: “I promise to tell you when I’m sad instead of pushing you away.” Or “I promise to never let a day go by without reminding you that you are loved beyond measure.” Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and soon these tiny promises became the very backbone of our fragile, beautiful long-distance love story. We promised to grow old together, to dance in our kitchen when we’re gray and wrinkled, to read poetry under the covers even when our eyes struggled to focus. Yet love, real love, always gets tested. There was a time we fought so badly I thought this was the end. Ugly words were thrown, tears were shed alone in dark rooms. That night, my pride screamed not to text her, to let her be, let her miss me first. But my heart, stubborn fool that it was, picked up the phone anyway and typed with trembling fingers: “I promise to fight for us, even when we’re the ones hurting each other.” Her reply didn’t come instantly. Hours dragged by like slow poison. Then, at 3:07 AM, my phone buzzed: “I promise to never give up on us, no matter how broken we get.” It felt like breathing again after nearly drowning. From then on, our promises grew deeper, more intertwined with hopes and dreams that were too sacred to say before. “I promise to be your calm when the world storms against you.” “I promise to build a home in my heart where you will always belong.” Now, years later, we finally share the same city, the same sunlit mornings, the same coffee mug sometimes. But every single day, without fail, my phone still lights up. “Good morning, love. I promise to still choose you tomorrow, even on days you’re impossible to love.” And I grin like a fool because some rituals are too precious to ever outgrow. Some promises are made to be kept forever. Love, in the end, isn’t built on diamonds or grand gestures—it’s sewn together by tiny, fragile, heartfelt promises whispered across miles and years. And maybe that’s why, even after all this time, when people ask me the secret to loving someone from afar, I tell them: “Make a promise daily. Not to her, not to him—but to your love. That’s how distance turns into destiny.”
By Aman Ullah6 months ago in Fiction
