junaid ali

"A Map of Invisible Things"

It was folded between the pages of an old ledger in his attic, tucked beneath a pile of newspapers from the 1960s. The paper was brittle at the edges, yellowed by time, but the ink was clear — delicate black lines looping and spiraling like constellations. At first glance, it looked like a child’s drawing, chaotic and nonsensical. But something about it felt… deliberate.