meerjanan

Joined August 2025

61 stories

Bio

A curious storyteller with a passion for turning simple moments into meaningful words. Writing about life, purpose, and the quiet strength we often overlook. Follow for stories that inspire, heal, and empower.

Stories (61)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

The Last Gallop
In a small village nestled between golden wheat fields and sun-cracked hills, there lived a horse named Bahar. He wasn’t sleek or swift, nor did he have a pedigree worth boasting about. His coat was dull in places, his legs bore old scars, and one ear was half-torn from a long-forgotten storm. But to twelve-year-old Rehan, Bahar was more than a horse—he was memory, comfort, and home.
By meerjanan7 days ago in Families
The Silent Climb
In a peaceful village nestled between vast hills and serene lakes, lived a boy named Ayan. He was known for his quiet nature, yet his mind was bursting with dreams. Unlike his peers who were satisfied with routine, Ayan longed for adventure, exploration, and achievement—all synonyms of the ambitions he nurtured silently.
By meerjanan7 days ago in Fiction
Secularism is a Misguided Path
When the call is raised that religion should be kept separate from worldly life—like Hinduism or Judaism—the first question a Muslim must ask is: should Islam also be limited to personal worship and spiritual matters only? Or does it have a comprehensive system for life?
By meerjanan7 days ago in Chapters
The Silent Climb
In a quiet village nestled between green hills and calm lakes, there lived a boy named Ayan. He was quiet by nature, often seen sitting under the old fig tree with a faraway look in his eyes. While others played, he would sketch mountains, write in his worn notebook, and stare at the peaks beyond the horizon.
By meerjanan7 days ago in Fiction
The Lantern in the Attic
There was a house on the edge of the village that no one spoke of, not unless the wind was still and the night felt too long. It stood at the top of the hill, half-hidden by ivy and time, its windows clouded with dust, its porch sagging under the weight of years. The other children said it was cursed. They claimed they’d seen shadows where there should be none, heard laughter when the house had been empty for decades.
By meerjanan7 days ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a small village cradled between gentle hills and glassy lakes, there lived a boy named Ayan. He wasn’t loud or bold, but he carried a stillness about him that made people notice. While other children played games or chattered in the square, Ayan often sat by the edge of the meadow, watching the distant mountains catch the first light of morning. There was something in the way the peaks touched the sky that made his chest tighten—not with fear, but with longing.
By meerjanan7 days ago in Motivation
The Window That Waited
In a quiet corner of the city, where the traffic never quite quieted and the buildings leaned into each other like old friends, stood a weathered apartment block with peeling paint and a rusted fire escape. It wasn’t grand or new, but it had stood for decades, holding stories in its walls.
By meerjanan7 days ago in Fiction
Bracing Beauty
The Quiet Vitality of a Winter Landscape Winter is often portrayed as a season of sleep, a time when the natural world retreats into a state of suspended animation. However, to stand in the middle of a snow-covered forest is to realize that winter is actually a season of intense, focused vitality. It is a period defined by the unique relationship between the cold, the terrain, and the water that binds them together.
By meerjanan7 days ago in Wander
The Man Who Planted Rain
One morning, under a sky bleached white by heat, an old man knelt in the dust at the edge of a forgotten village. His name was Noor—everyone called him Baba Noor—and he was planting seeds again.
By meerjanan4 months ago in Fiction
The Shepherd, the Wolf, and the Signs of the Last Days
It is said that a shepherd was tending to a flock of sheep belonging to Prophet Solomon (peace be upon him). One day, a wolf approached him and said:
By meerjanan5 months ago in Motivation
Steps to Life
Amina was thirty-five, a schoolteacher in a quiet town near Multan. Her classroom was alive with energy—children laughing, chalk tapping against the board, and her gentle voice guiding them through lessons in math and language. To her students, Miss Amina wasn’t just a teacher; she was someone who remembered birthdays, noticed when a child was quiet, and always had a kind word.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Psyche
Whiskers and Wounds
Ayesha was once the melody in a quiet neighborhood of Lahore—the woman whose voice floated through jasmine-scented evenings like a gentle breeze. She taught music at the local school, her laughter ringing out as children fumbled with harmonium keys and off-key scales. Her home, small but warm, used to hum with life: the strum of strings, the soft clink of teacups, and songs passed down from her mother.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Petlife

meerjanan

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(61)

Filter by community

The Last Gallop

The Silent Climb

Secularism is a Misguided Path

The Silent Climb

The Lantern in the Attic

The Silent Climb

The Window That Waited

Bracing Beauty

The Man Who Planted Rain

The Shepherd, the Wolf, and the Signs of the Last Days

Steps to Life

Whiskers and Wounds

Stories (61)