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Torn Dupatta | A Harsh Write-Up Bint-e-Azhar

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  Torn Dupatta / Mob of Dogs R eturning from school one day, I found a mob of dogs , Their eyes hungry and wild, Their mouths dripping with desire To tear every bone from my skin. My heart pounded in my chest, Blood freezing in my veins, My skin prickling with goosebumps As terror surged through me. They barked with cruel laughter, Their eyes mocking the shiver in my step, The tremor in my lips, The desperation in my breath. They circled me, Licking their lips, tails wagging in anticipation. I adjusted my scarf, Fighting the fear, And quickened my pace. I was a girl. I had to run. I had to leave my dreams behind, Even if it meant Killing my own soul. Because if my honor was tainted, I would be the one condemned. The dogs would fade away, Leaving no trace but their saliva, But my torn dupatta Would tell the world a different story— Of my destruction. So I didn’t go to school the next day, Nor the next, Nor the days after. Because the mob of dogs— Biologically human boys, But hungrie...
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Mother, I Didn't Visit Your Grave! | A poetry

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            Mother, I didn’t visit your grave, for I knew you never died. Whoever announced your death spoke a lie. It wasn’t you who faded— it was a color that dulled, a flower that withered, the sun that bled and finally set. Do they still believe it was you? Nonsense! Nothing has changed in you. Every bit of your blood flows through my veins, carrying all your scars and flaws. Your fingers breathe through my hands, wearing your worn and weathered touch. Your scent lingers in my limbs, drawing their attention to you. Whatever I cook, whatever I prepare, I enter the same kitchen you once graced with your presence. When I peel an onion, I feel your tears welling up  in my eyes. When I try a new recipe, I find you leaning against the basin, stirring the gravy. Nothing has altered in the haven you sheltered. When my brother cracks a joke, I find you smiling on my lips. When he fusses, your scowl reflects in me. Your heartbeat thrums within my chest. Your...
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The Enchantment of Voice | آواز کا جادو | A short yet compelling story

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"!میں کہ رہی ہوں نا بھیّا ڈھائی سو250 روپے سے ایک روپیہ زائد نہیں دوں  گی..." اُس کی نرم اور مترنم ہنسی اُس چھوٹی مگر نفیس دکان میں گونجی تھی۔   اور دکان دار کی آنکھوں کی چمک میں یک لخت کئی گنا اضافہ ہوا۔  اُس نے چونک کر اُس دوشیزہ کی سیاہ نقاب کی جھری سے ہلکی سی نظر آنے والی شفاف کانچ آنکھوں میں دیکھا جن میں کسی سمندر کی نیلاہٹ کا عکس جھلک رہا تھا۔  "چلیں جی، آپ اتنی محبت سے اصرار کر رہی ہیں تو 250 ہی صحیح۔ آپ بھی کیا یاد رکھیں گی کس رئیس سے پالا پڑا تھا!"  وہ وارفتگی سے اُس کے نقابی چہرے کو تکتے ہوئے بولا۔  "ہممم وہ تو ہے ، بھیّا۔"  عادلہ کو دکان دار کے لو دیتے لہجے سے  یکایک ہی عجیب سا احساس ہوا ۔ اُس نے یوں ہی اپنے نقاب کو شانوں پر مزید پھیلایا، آنکھوں پر چشمہ کا پہرا چڑھایا اور سر کی جنبش سے شکریہ ادا کرتے ہوئے اپنا من موہنا سوٹ تھامے کھڑی ہو گئی جو دکان دار 450 سے کم نہ بیچنے پر بہ ضد تھا لیکن اُس کی 20 منٹ کی تکرار اور اصرار بالآخر رنگ لائی۔   "واہ بھئی، 250 روپے میں اتنا نفیس اور دلاویز سوٹ! "  "پورے 150 روپے کم"...
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Finally, I found LOVE! 💕 (A heartwarming poem)

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I   hunted for the stars, chased fluffy clouds,  Mining earth's depth where secrets shroud. I even cast nets in the vast realms of the sea,  In search of the missing puzzle piece inside me. I sought hues to complete my vibrant rainbow,  Without it, life appears a dead, haunting volcano. As the skies queried, "What drives you so crazy?" Earth echoed, "You're still young, take it easy!" Oh, wish you'd know, a fire's been  burning within me, stinging like a bee,  Since I embarked on the magical train  of adolescence and met 'Ms. Puberty'. Unbeknownst to them, my heart smolders,  Embers of longing amid my fragile shoulders. An inferno of desire breaks my ribs, A plea, "Set me free" escapes my lips.  So listen, oh ignorant, I'm in pursuit of love ! To soothe my baffled soul,  with its warm glove.  I seek a beloved who settles my tangled heart,  Like an ocean lull the shore, its sweetheart. All of a sudden , the cloud veiled the mo...
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"You won Ghaza!" (An imaginative Journey and Letter 💌)

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Dear Ghaza!  With the wings of imagination, I soared towards your soil, Ghaza. But as soon as my vision met with your land, a turbulent sea of crimson greeted me, a sight that tore at my heart.  The poignant and pungent smell confirmed that it was none other than blood.  Blood in all its possible tragic forms.  The blood of innocent children robbed of their laughter and play. The blood of women, their beautiful smiles, and their longings for their future were cruelly extinguished.  The blood of men who should be dreaming of brighter tomorrows. The blood of elders who should be witnessing the joy of their loved ones.   And even the blood of infants who've not yet stepped out in this harsh world.  Oh, Dear Ghaza, that vivid, scarlet river told me stories of stolen innocence, shattered dreams, and unfulfilled wishes.  It cried out, narrating tales of oppression, transgression, brutality, and above all inhumanity.  The crimson tears of this...
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Surprise Book Review!

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  With a heavy heart and tearful eyes, I closed the book pdf. Moving it to the "Books I've recently read" folder, I felt like letting go of an old friend. This beautiful book journey, which began with goosebumps, ended with tears. But wait,   Which book? The book adorned with these mesmerizing lines: " People lived because she killed. People died because he lived " Guessing? One. Two. Three. Boom! Uh-huh, it is none other than: "WE HUNT THE FLAME!" A page-turning, magical fantasy filled with action and adventure written by the renowned Hijabi American author Hafsa Faizal.  Image copyright - Hafsa Faizal The fact that one of us has written a New York Times bestseller is a great honor for Muslim girls, especially Niqabis! It was almost 2 years ago that I got to know this book. A fantasy with an Arabian setting, written by a hijabi, I couldn't dream of more! Thus, I was super excited to read it, but to my disappointment, it wasn't available ...
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