Nauman Khan
Stories (40)
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The House Told Me to Leave. I Didn't Listen.
I first saw the house on a Thursday afternoon. The clouds had opened just enough to pour a heavy rain that slicked the streets of the small New Hampshire town I had just moved to. I wasn’t looking for anything grand—just quiet. After the accident, after the silence that followed my parents' passing, I thought solitude would be healing.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in Horror
India vs Pakistan: A Comparative Analysis of Military Power
In the geopolitical chessboard of South Asia, few rivalries are as enduring or as complex as the one between India and Pakistan. Rooted in a shared history and marred by conflict, diplomacy, and deterrence, their relationship continues to shape the regional balance of power. In 2025, as both nations navigate evolving military doctrines and global alignments, a comparative assessment of their military capabilities reveals both sharp contrasts and areas of strategic parity.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in Unbalanced
Line of Fire: India-Pakistan War 2025
Line of Fire: India-Pakistan War 2025 – The War That Proved Pakistan’s Military Might The morning of March 18, 2025, was unlike any other along the Line of Control. Cold winds whispered across the jagged peaks of Kashmir, carrying with them a tension thicker than the snow that blanketed the ground. For weeks, border skirmishes had intensified, diplomacy had failed, and now — the war sirens had wailed.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in Motivation
The Clock That Forgot Time
Once, there was a small village nestled in a valley where time moved differently. The trees seemed to sway in slow motion, their leaves a perpetual shade of amber. The rivers whispered softly, their currents moving lazily, as if unwilling to rush anywhere. The villagers had grown accustomed to a life that did not follow the relentless ticking of clocks. They lived by the rise and fall of the sun, the cycles of the seasons, and the rhythms of their hearts.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in Art
A Song That Ended Everything
The world was once full of music. From the crashing waves on distant shores to the wind rustling through silver-leaved forests, every corner of the world sang. Mountains hummed with deep, ancient harmonies, and the stars twinkled in silent rhythm above. But nothing compared to the songs of the Virellen — a people whose voices were gifts of the gods themselves.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in 01
The Window That Waited
At the edge of town, beyond the last paved road and under the shadow of the hills, stood a little blue house. It was old, leaning slightly to the left, with peeling paint and a crooked chimney. Most people had forgotten who lived there. The mailbox had rusted shut. The lawn was wild. The fence leaned like it was tired of standing.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in Education
The Golden Weave
In the heart of a bustling city, there was a small, quaint shop nestled between towering buildings and fast-paced streets. The shop was called Threads of Time, and it had been passed down through generations. The owner, an elderly woman named Evelyn, was known for her intricate weaving skills, creating tapestries that told stories of old. But the most remarkable thing about Evelyn wasn’t just her artistry—it was the golden thread she used in every piece.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in Humans
The Silent Thread
Kargil Sector, India–Pakistan Border, 1999 The mountains didn’t care who died beneath them. They loomed, silent and ancient, watching yet unmoved as men with rifles scurried across their frozen ridges, spilling blood over the snow that never asked for it. War had returned to Kargil like an old fever.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in History
One Drop of Water
The war was not kind. It had no mercy. It did not care if you were young or old, if you had loved ones or dreams. It came like a storm—ruthless, unforgiving, leaving nothing but the wreckage of lives in its wake. Aarav had always known about the conflicts between India and Pakistan, but he had never imagined he’d be caught in the middle of it, rifle in hand, crouched in a cold trench, waiting for something to happen.
By Nauman Khan8 months ago in Writers
The Shadow of the Golden Heart
In a distant land, nestled between ancient mountains and deep, uncharted forests, there was a kingdom that once thrived under the rule of King Alaric. His reign was prosperous, his people content, and his heart, though often burdened with the weight of kingship, remained pure. But as the years passed, a seed of discontent began to grow in his heart—an insatiable hunger for more.
By Nauman Khan9 months ago in Art
The Lamb That Roared
In a quiet valley cradled by mountains and painted in soft shades of green and gold, there lived a flock of sheep who followed the same paths, ate from the same fields, and spoke in whispers. Life was predictable, and for most of them, that was enough.
By Nauman Khan9 months ago in Beat
The Shadow of the Golden Heart
In a distant land, nestled between ancient mountains and deep, uncharted forests, there was a kingdom that once thrived under the rule of King Alaric. His reign was prosperous, his people content, and his heart, though often burdened with the weight of kingship, remained pure. But as the years passed, a seed of discontent began to grow in his heart—an insatiable hunger for more.
By Nauman Khan9 months ago in Art
