Inam Zohan
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Stories (7)
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Letters To My Future Daughter: A Life Map I Never Had
Dear Future Daughter, You may not be here yet. I don’t know your name, your favorite color, or the sound of your laughter. But I think of you often. And when I do, I feel something strong — not fear, not hope, but love. Pure, deep, unshakable love.
By Inam Zohan8 months ago in Families
“Resting In Faith: Why Muslims Are Buried In Graveyards”
When someone dies, it is always a moment of sadness. People cry, pray, and remember the life that has ended. In Islam, death is not the end. It is the beginning of another life — the life of the soul. That is why Muslims have certain rules and traditions when a person dies, especially about the graveyard.
By Inam Zohan8 months ago in Humans
The Blanket That Held Us Together
The blanket was old—its colors faded, its edges frayed—but to Mariam, it was sacred. It had started as just scraps: bits of old shirts, unused dresses, and soft cotton from her wedding veil. She began stitching it when she was pregnant with her first child. Her fingers were untrained, her stitches uneven, but her heart was full. Every thread she sewed was a silent promise to the child growing inside her. A promise of warmth, protection, and love.
By Inam Zohan8 months ago in Families
The Memory of Tomorrow"
Elena had always been different, but it wasn’t until the night of the accident that she realized just how profound her difference was. For as long as she could remember, she’d felt the edges of time stretch and bend in ways no one else seemed to understand. It wasn’t that she saw things before they happened, not in the way of a psychic or a fortune teller. No, for Elena, it was far more elusive, far more unsettling. She remembered the future.
By Inam Zohan8 months ago in Journal
“Our Secret Romance Was Dangerous — But I’d Do It Again
It was a summer afternoon when I first met him. He wasn’t the kind of man I ever imagined I’d fall for. Reserved, mysterious, and impeccably dressed, he exuded an air of confidence that was hard to ignore. Our first interaction was simple enough — an accidental brush of shoulders as I hurried through the crowded hallway of our office building. I remember it clearly: the flicker of his eyes, the brief moment of connection before we both moved on as though nothing had happened. But something had shifted inside me.
By Inam Zohan9 months ago in Marriage
The Voice in the Jar
In a forgotten village, high in the snow-covered mountains, there was a tradition older than memory. Every child born in the village received a small, delicate glass jar, sealed tightly with a cork. The jars were not just ordinary keepsakes; they were believed to hold the most important gift a person could ever possess: their voice.
By Inam Zohan9 months ago in Motivation
