Love
The Market of Beauty — A Woman, A Society, and an Unforgiving Truth
In every era, literature has held up a mirror to its time. Some stories don’t simply entertain; they expose the soul of a society. Among them stands “Bazaar-e-Husn” (The Market of Beauty), a masterpiece by Munshi Premchand — one of the greatest voices in Urdu and Hindi literature.
By hamad khan3 months ago in Fiction
The Moon That Cried Silver Tears
The people of the world first noticed it during the great drought. The skies had been relentlessly clear for months, and the land was parched to dust. One night, a new star appeared, trailing a faint, silvery light. But it wasn't a star. It was a tear.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Pale Blue Door
I walk past the pale blue door every single day. It is locked, I think, but I haven’t ever tried to open it. Somehow, I sense that I’m not meant to go in there. My Grandma won’t even look down the hall at it. It’s right by my room, and she never goes there either. I had to move in with her six months ago when I finally left my husband. Randy had hit me one last time and that was it. I decided I had to leave. I had to get out of there. I waited until he was on his business trip, packed everything and left. I had told him all my family was gone, because they were essentially. All except for my grandma, Sylvia. I hadn’t seen her since I was sixteen, at a funeral. My parents moved across the country and didn’t see their parents but a couple of times a year on holidays. Once I turned thirteen and could stay home with my older brother, I hadn’t gone back east to visit family at all. My other two grandparents died, my parents had no siblings. So, it was the four of us and Sylvia out here in West Virginia all alone in her little yellow cottage. Then when I was sixteen and hanging out with my boyfriend Randy at home, my parents and my brother went out to pick up pizza for all of us. They wrecked and all of them were killed. Randy was the only person in my life; he was a football player and a mechanic. His parents took me in and then we moved out and got married, his family was mine. And that was how he kept me trapped so easily.
By Raine Fielder3 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Changed Everything
I never believed in love at first sight—at least, not until that day at the café. He was tucked away in the corner, headphones on, completely lost in whatever he was watching. I only noticed him because he laughed—a soft, genuine laugh that somehow filled the whole room. Something in me stirred, quiet but undeniable.
By Callista Ava3 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Sold His Dreams to Feed His Mother
At the edge of a small town, in a tiny, old house, lived a young boy named Ayaan and his kind mother, Mariam. Their house was very old and weak. The walls had big cracks, and the roof would leak whenever it rained. To anyone passing by, the house looked broken, but inside it was full of love and care. Even though they did not have much money and sometimes had little food, Ayaan always laughed happily. His cheerful voice could be heard in the streets, like a bright light in a gray world, bringing hope and happiness to everyone who heard it.
By Bilal khan 3 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Captured the Moon in a Jar
Leo was a boy who loved the moon with a desperate, possessive love. Every night, he’d press his face against his bedroom window, watching it sail through the clouds, a perfect silver coin. He hated that he had to share it with the whole world. He hated that it always, eventually, slipped away.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Room with No Mirrors – Deep Psychological Story (Narration for YouTube)
They told me memory can’t lie. But after what happened in Room 27… I’m not so sure. I was 29 when I joined the clinical study at the Mindwell Institute — a new research project on “visual memory reconstruction.”
By Naimat ullah3 months ago in Fiction
Borrowed Moon
The first time I saw the sign, I thought it was a joke.White chalk on the café blackboard, right under the croissant doodle: Borrow the Moon. Returns due by dawn. Price listed as “suggested donation,” which is either generous or ominous depending on your week.
By Milan Milic3 months ago in Fiction
JETT THE DRAXXION
There was once a weak boy named Jett, who was often insulted because of his skinny and fragile body. His classmates mocked and bullied him constantly. Although the anger built up inside him, Jett didn’t know how to respond. He endured the humiliation silently but always wished that one day, if he ever gained power, he would make those who tormented him regret their actions.
By ikechukwu michael3 months ago in Fiction
Moon’s Gift to the Blind Girl
Elara’s world was not dark. People called her blind, but that was their word, born from their own fear of the absence of light. Her world was built of sound and scent and texture. The rough bark of the old oak was a story of strength. The scent of rain on dry earth was a complex symphony. But the one thing that remained an abstract concept was the Moon.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
