Holiday
Humla Limi Valley Trek: Yaks, Yak Cheese, and the Art of Surviving Your Own Stupidity
Let’s get this straight: if the Gokyo Lakes were a chilly slap of reality, the Humla Limi Valley Trek is like getting dunked into a bucket of ice water while someone yells, “This is character-building!” My accomplice? Anika, a friend who claims she’s “into cultural immersion” but is really just a history nerd with a knack for getting lost. Together, we ventured into Nepal’s far northwest—a place so remote, even Google Maps shrugs.
By michal lenden8 months ago in Fiction
Whispers of Wings in Blooming Fields
"The Whispering Wings" The valley was alive with color. Petals of every hue—red, pink, yellow, blue—swayed in a soft breeze, while tall trees lined the horizon like guardians of a sacred realm. The scent of wildflowers hung in the air, thick with summer’s warmth. Above the blooms, hummingbirds danced, their wings a blur of iridescent green and ruby.
By Mukhtiar Ahmad8 months ago in Fiction
The Wallet in the Park
It was the kind of morning that whispered secrets to the trees. Golden sunlight filtered through the canopy of Everbrook Park, and the air smelled like fresh-cut grass. Thirteen-year-old Ravi wandered down the path, dragging his feet, a little bored and a lot curious. School was closed for the day. His friends were out of town, his parents were working, and worst of all—his phone was dead.
By Ahmad Malik8 months ago in Fiction
The Honest Woodcutter — A Moral Story About Integrity
In a quiet village nestled at the edge of a vast forest, lived a poor woodcutter named Harun. Each day before sunrise, he ventured into the forest, his worn axe resting on his shoulder and hope in his heart. Life wasn’t easy—his hands were blistered, his clothes faded, and his earnings barely enough to care for his ailing mother. But Harun had something rare: he was honest to the core.
By Ahmad Malik8 months ago in Fiction
A Himalayan Adventure That Changed Us
Last year, my best friend and I did something reckless—we booked tickets to Nepal on a whim. Neither of us had ever trekked seriously before. I’d get winded climbing stairs to my apartment; she thought "hydration" meant drinking coffee. Yet there we were, standing in Kathmandu’s chaotic streets, staring at our oversized backpacks and realizing: We’re actually doing this.
By michal lenden8 months ago in Fiction
"The Healer’s Burden: Faith, Legacy, and the Weight of Divine Gifts"
The Healer understood her gift far better than the Apprentice ever could. To be *Blessed* was not about skill or effort—it was simply *being*, carrying a selfless faith so profound that it shaped the world without intent. Though she healed with her hands, sometimes the Divine intervened, mending what mortal ability could not.
By Nasir Khan8 months ago in Fiction
