IRSHAD MUHAMMAD
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Stories (36)
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The Mirror of Thorns
In the heart of a quiet kingdom, nestled between jagged mountains and mist-covered lakes, lived a princess named Seraphine. She was unlike any royal the bards sang about. While others danced at feasts and paraded through gardens, Seraphine lived in the shadow of her own mind, scribbling stories by candlelight, where ink replaced blood and parchment held her soul.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Motivation
Seven Fairies, Seven Friends
Seven Fairies, Seven Friends: The Sacrifices That Strengthen True Friendship and Bonds In a magical realm hidden beyond the clouds, where rainbows arched across the sky and flowers sang gentle melodies, lived seven fairies of extraordinary beauty and grace. More than just enchanting beings, they were inseparable companions, sharing not only joy and laughter but also dreams, duties, and a home built with love and unity. Though they came from different corners of the fairyland, their bond was so pure and deep that they were often mistaken for sisters rather than friends.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Motivation
God’s Test
The night was quiet, yet something felt disturbingly alive in the silence. Arman lay awake, staring at the cracked ceiling of his small room. Life had been dragging him through dark waters—unemployment, loss, betrayal. His heart had grown numb, faith worn thin.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Motivation
The Power of a Single Step: Overcoming Fear and Embracing Change
The Power of a Single Step: Overcoming Fear and Embracing Change For as long as she could remember, Alina had lived within the quiet walls of familiarity. Her routine was simple—wake up, go to work at the local library, return home to her small apartment, and repeat. She enjoyed the silence of the books and the predictability of her days. But deep inside her, a quiet restlessness brewed—one that she buried beneath the comfort of routine and the fear of the unknown.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Motivation
Grandpa vs. the Smartphone
Grandpa vs. the Smartphone Bridging the Generation Gap, One Tap at a Time Grandpa had lived through more than eight decades, and in that time, he had seen the world change in ways that seemed almost unimaginable. When he was young, there were no computers, no mobile phones, and certainly no internet. People communicated through letters, landline phones, or in person. He was more accustomed to the comforting rustle of newspapers than the constant buzz of notifications. But now, in his retirement, his life had begun to take a sharp turn into the world of technology—especially when it came to his children and grandchildren.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Humans
Whispers Beneath the Floorboards
Whispers Beneath the Floorboards Secrets Buried in Silence, Waiting to Be Heard The house on Windmere Lane had been empty for years, its once-vibrant windows now clouded with dust, the paint on its frame curling like dried leaves. Neighbors whispered about the place in the same way children whispered about monsters—soft, careful, half-believing.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Horror
Little Joys of Childhood
There was a time when happiness came wrapped in simplicity. It didn’t need a smartphone, a credit card, or a weekend getaway. It only needed a few friends, a patch of open ground, and the sound of the ice cream cart’s bell in the distance. That was childhood — a time of wonder, curiosity, and the little joys that stitched our days into warm memories.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Motivation
Beneath the Jasmine Sky
Beneath the Jasmine Sky The sun had just begun to set, casting its golden hue over the horizon, and the soft evening breeze whispered through the trees. Beneath the vast expanse of the jasmine-scented sky, Laila and Zain stood at the edge of the garden, hand in hand. It had been months since they had last met, but the connection between them had remained untouched by time.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Fiction
A Mother's Promise
A Mother's Promise: The Unbreakable Bond Between Love and Destiny The rain was falling hard on the tin roof of the small village house, the sound rhythmic, like a heartbeat. Inside, by the warm flicker of a kerosene lamp, sat Meher, her hands gently brushing through her son Arman’s hair. He was only five, with bright eyes that held too many questions and a smile that knew too little comfort.
By IRSHAD MUHAMMAD9 months ago in Families
