Hamza khan
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Stories (5)
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“Borders and Brothers: The Reality of Pakistan vs India Wars”
By: Hamza khan I was only ten years old when I first heard the word “war.” My grandfather had just turned off the television after watching a documentary about the Kargil conflict. He didn’t say much, but the heaviness in the room lingered like smoke after a fire. I didn’t understand the politics, the history, or the borders. All I knew was that my grandfather’s eyes, usually kind and tired, were suddenly stormy with memories he refused to share.
By Hamza khan8 months ago in Education
The House That Whispers
Sometimes the past doesn’t just linger — it waits. When Elena bought the old farmhouse at the edge of Ashridge Hollow, she thought she’d stumbled onto a miracle. A century-old home for less than the cost of a downtown studio? It was hard not to sign on the dotted line.
By Hamza khan9 months ago in Art
The Last Tea With My Grandmother. AI-Generated.
The kettle whistled softly, a familiar sound that curled through the quiet kitchen like a memory. I moved with careful, practiced steps, just as she had taught me years ago—two teabags, just enough honey, and a delicate splash of milk. She always said tea wasn’t just a drink; it was a ritual, a pause in time, a shared breath between two people. Today, it felt like all of those things and more.
By Hamza khan9 months ago in Education
"The Child Who Wasn’t Mine". AI-Generated.
The Knock That Changed Everything Rain lashed against the windows like nails. I almost didn’t hear the pounding over the thunder. When I wrenched the door open, my sister Leah stood there—soaked, wild-eyed, and clutching a blanket-wrapped bundle to her chest.
By Hamza khan9 months ago in Families
