Asif Mahmud
Bio
I chase stories where others see silence—unraveling the magic in mundane moments, the whispers of history, and the quirks of everyday science.
Stories (2)
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The Tree That Remembered Me. AI-Generated.
I met the tree when I was seven. It stood at the edge of my grandmother’s garden, silent and rooted, like a monk deep in thought. The majority would describe it as common; all it is is a tree's bark and leaves. But even when I was seven, I thought it was more. Each summer, I’d sit beneath its generous shade, running small fingers along the carvings left by people I would never know. Its trunk was marred by dates, hearts, and names. My grandmother called it “The Witness.” She said it had stood through storms, droughts, and human seasons. It outlived the people who marked it, standing quiet as the world around it shifted and changed.
By Asif Mahmud9 months ago in Longevity
The Secret Language of Rust
The voices of the world are soft. But busy lives make us deaf. They are only heard when we slow down. I learned this lesson on an old railway bridge. I was told a quiet tale by weather, metal, and time. The bridge stood across the wide river like a backbone. The strong wind made the iron beams squeak. The tracks had no trains anymore. But their silence was louder than the old engines. Rails were covered in rust. It did not look like damage to me. It looked like nature’s quiet writing.
By Asif Mahmud9 months ago in Fiction
