Book of the Month
Who is Manzoor from Waziristan
The Story of Manzoor from Waziristan Manzoor was born in the remote and mountainous region of Waziristan, a place known for its stunning natural beauty but also for years of conflict and hardship. Waziristan, located in the tribal belt of Pakistan, has long faced challenges such as political instability, lack of education, and limited access to basic services. Despite these difficulties, Manzoor’s journey is a story of hope, courage, and relentless determination to bring positive change to his community.
By The voice of the heart6 months ago in BookClub
📖 Sarfaraz A Tribute to Maulana Khan Zeb
📖 Sarfaraz A Tribute to Maulana Khan Zeb The Silence That Followed the Gunshots On the dusty road near Shindai Mor in Bajaur, time stopped. The echo of gunshots faded into the silence of shocked onlookers. Maulana Khan Zeb lay still — the voice that called for peace, the heart that beat for justice, silenced by bullets. Yet, even in death, his presence roared across mountains and minds: Sarfaraz — dignified in sacrifice.
By The voice of the heart6 months ago in BookClub
Whispers Behind the Black Curtain
They say Le Cirque des Rêves appears without warning, arriving like a whisper in the wind—one moment, a bare field beneath a quiet sky; the next, a maze of black-and-white tents blooming in the moonlight. No announcements. No posters. Only rumors and dreamers’ tales.
By shoaib khan7 months ago in BookClub
The Christmas Book Floot
In a land of endless winter nights and breathtaking natural beauty, where glaciers meet volcanoes and the Northern Lights dance across the sky, Iceland holds a special tradition that warms the hearts of its people like a fire in the hearth. This tradition, known as Jólabókaflóð, or the Christmas Book Flood, is a celebration of literature, community, and the quiet magic of reading.
By The voice of the heart7 months ago in BookClub
The Rise Of Kiro (kairo series). Content Warning.
CHAPTER 1: The First Fire PAGE 1 The sirens weren't for him. Not yet. But Kiro felt them in his bones anyway, deep and vibrating, like a warning bell only certain people were cursed to hear. They echoed off brick walls and rumbled through the cracked pavement like war drums, like ghosts singing lullabies to the lost.
By TheConfin3dPo3t7 months ago in BookClub
Ghani khan no.1
A Poppy Flower In a desert, once, on a hunt did I find, With a radiant smile, a flower so fair; Sadly, I approached and sighed, "Ah! Of my kind Are you too a hapless flower from a beloved's hair. Frail fingers wouldn't take you to a soft face so close, Nor would you be kissed by lips delicate and rose." With a silent smile the flower replied, "Don't lose heart! This desert I wouldn't give up for the gardens of Iran, A solitary I am here while legions are there, Amidst this cursed soil I stand apart. In this gray desert, a flamboyant flame of divine light am I,
By I’m Pathan from Afghanistan7 months ago in BookClub
The Old Bookstore
Elara had always been drawn to the quiet places, the forgotten corners where stories seemed to linger in the dust motes dancing in sunbeams. So, when she stumbled upon "The Written Word" on Whisper Lane, a narrow, cobbled street that seemed to exist outside the city's relentless hum, she felt an immediate, profound pull. The shop was nestled between a perpetually closed antique store and a florist whose blooms always looked a little too vibrant to be real. Its windows, clouded with age, hinted at the treasures within, and the scent of old paper and dust motes, like a forgotten dream, wafted faintly from beneath the creaking door.
By Momin Shah7 months ago in BookClub
