Hasibul Kabir
Bio
they can change perspectives, inspire minds, and spread the light of transformation. Telling stories through words is my passion, and touching the hearts of my audience is my purpose.
Stories (10)
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The Clock of Secrets
In a corner of the village stood an old house. In front of the house was a large banyan tree, and beneath it, a stone bench. The house had once belonged to an elderly woman named Malati Devi. After her death, the house had remained empty. The locals claimed that Malati Devi’s spirit still roamed the house. But the most mysterious thing was an old clock hanging on the wall of the house.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
The House of Shadows
At the edge of the village stood an old house. Surrounded by dense jungle, the trees were so thick that sunlight barely touched the ground. The house had been empty for years. The locals said it was haunted. No one dared to spend the night there. But Rahim wasn’t afraid. He had come from the city, studied science, and didn’t believe in ghosts.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
Love on the Pages of Letters
The name of the village is *Shayabari*. A small river flows by the side of Shayabari village. Riyad loves to sit by the riverbank. Riyad is now 22 years old. He is a college student. His dreams are big. He wants to become a writer when he grows up. But the biggest dream of his life is his love, that girl by the riverbank—Sumaiya.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
Jinn's Note
At the edge of a small village stood an ancient banyan tree, beneath which lay a stone bench. Locals whispered that a **Jinn** lived under the tree. But this Jinn wasn’t harmful. Instead, at night, a sweet melody could be heard from beneath the tree, as if someone were singing.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Horror
The Passenger of Darkness
The old train station stood at the edge of the city, shrouded in an unsettling silence. Locals called it the "Black Station," a name that carried whispers of dread and mystery. Its crumbling red brick walls were veined with ivy, and the shattered windows seemed to stare like hollow eyes into the void. The platform was littered with broken benches, and the air was thick with the scent of rust and decay. At the center of it all stood an ancient clock, its hands frozen at 3:17—a time no one could explain. The station had been abandoned for decades, but the stories surrounding it were very much alive. People claimed to hear faint whispers, the distant clatter of wheels, and even ghostly wails echoing through the night. Some said a train had vanished here long ago, taking its passengers into the unknown.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
The Unknown Friend
The small river that flowed beside the village was called "Madhumati." Its water was crystal clear, like glass. In the morning, when the sunlight fell on the river, it seemed as if gold was floating on the water. By this river lived a little girl named Mita. Mita was only ten years old, but her eyes held an extraordinary vision. She often wondered how big the world was and how small she was in comparison.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
Unic's Journey Through the Air
In a distant land, nestled deep within an enchanted forest, there lived a little fairy named Unic. Unic was no ordinary fairy; she possessed a unique gift that set her apart from the others. While most fairies fluttered about on delicate wings, Unic had the extraordinary ability to merge with the air itself. She could glide effortlessly through the breeze, feeling the wind’s gentle caress and the soft embrace of the clouds. Her home was a cozy nook in the heart of the forest, surrounded by towering trees and crystal-clear streams. But despite the beauty of her surroundings, Unic’s heart always yearned for the vast, open sky above.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
Companion of the Unknown Road
It was a cool winter morning. The streets were covered in mist, and the world seemed trapped between light and shadow. Sadya stood at the bus stop, dressed in her school uniform and held a book bag. Her heart was full of excitement and tension. Today was her first university registration interview day. She had been preparing for this moment for months, and as soon as she learned that this day would bring something into her life that she never imagined.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
The Whispering Shadows
In the small, quiet village, there was an old abandoned house known as the The villagers spoke about it in steaming colours and warned others to avoid it at all costs. As far as everyone could remember, the house was empty, covered with broken windows and grape walls. During the night, strange sounds often came out of the house, but no one dared to look it up.
By Hasibul Kabir11 months ago in Poets
