Western

Mah-e-Muhabat -part=3
Episode=3 Hanam silently followed Rashida to the room, unaware of the reason for her punishment. Her innocent heart was filled with fear, and she felt pain on her cheeks where marks had appeared. Would fate teach her the meaning of "Vani" or would she create a new history?
By Bilal Muhammad8 months ago in Chapters
🌌 Music for Spaces That Don’t Exist: Soundtracking Imaginary Worlds . AI-Generated.
There’s music for parties. Music for breakups. Music for long drives, chill Sundays, heartbreak recoveries. But what about music for worlds that aren’t real?
By The Yume Collective8 months ago in Chapters
How Understanding Your Childhood Wounds Can Finally Give You the Love Story You've Always Dreamed Of
I'll never forget the moment I realized I was dating my father. Not literally, of course—that would be a whole different kind of therapy session. But as I sat across from my partner during yet another argument about emotional availability, something clicked. The same frustration I felt trying to get him to open up was eerily similar to the helplessness I'd experienced as a child, desperately seeking my emotionally distant father's approval and attention.
By Soibifaa8 months ago in Chapters
The Stranger in Apartment 6B
*Some people enter your life for a reason you don’t understand… until it’s too late.* It was the beginning of winter when Zara moved into the old apartment building on Maple Street. She was starting over—new city, new job, new life. Her past was something she didn’t talk about. She just wanted peace, silence, and a fresh start.The building was quiet, filled with older people and a few young families. Her apartment was 6A, on the sixth floor. Right across the hall was apartment 6B.She never saw who lived there. The door was always shut. The lights were off. No one came or left. Just a small wooden sign hung on the door with a name: "Rehan."
By ArshNaya Writes8 months ago in Chapters
My cruel love
My Cruel Love I'm buying you—for an entire month. Starting today, for the next thirty days, you'll be mine. Only mine. Your only job will be to please me. You won't even look at another man.
By Story writes8 months ago in Chapters
Every Day Is Theirs: A Heart’s Tribute to Our Parents Beyond One Day
✍️ By: Umair Ali Shah Yousafzai --- 🌸 Introduction: The Problem with “One Day” In an age where love has been reduced to emojis and celebrations are confined to trending hashtags, it’s become common to see people dedicate just one day a year to their parents — usually in the form of a well-edited photo, a generic social media caption, or a short video clip. "Happy Parents’ Day!" they declare, and with that, consider their duty fulfilled. But can one day capture the essence of lifelong sacrifice? Can a Facebook status outweigh a mother’s sleepless nights? Can an Instagram reel compensate for a father’s decades of toil? The answer — spoken by the heart — is a resounding no. Parents are not a seasonal celebration. They are the soul of our lives. They do not deserve a day; they deserve our every day, our every breath, our every success, our every prayer. --- 🕊️ A Love Beyond Comprehension Parental love is not poetic — it is prophetic. The mother’s womb becomes a sanctuary before we even open our eyes. Her body breaks to give us life. Her nights shatter so our dreams can form. Her meals go cold so ours stay warm. She becomes our shadow, our comfort, our shield. And the father? He becomes the silent mountain who absorbs the storm before it reaches us. He ages behind the curtain so we can grow on stage. His shoes wear thin so ours stay new. His pockets empty so our dreams can fill. His hands become rough while ours remain soft. Such love cannot be compared. It cannot be counted, priced, or postponed. It is as eternal as the sky — silent but all-encompassing. --- 🏠 From Cradle to Grave: They Gave Us Everything The truth is simple and painful: the very people who gave us everything, we give them the least. They carried us when we were weak. They taught us to walk, to speak, to eat. They encouraged our smallest achievements and bore our greatest failures. They forgave our rebellion, our rudeness, our rejection. They kept loving even when we didn’t love back. And what did they ask for in return? Nothing — except a little time. A little respect. A little remembrance. And yet, many of us fail even in that. --- 📅 One Day is Not Enough — It’s Almost Insulting Designating one day for parents is, in many ways, an insult wrapped in sentimentality. It suggests that gratitude can be scheduled, that love can be timed, that sacrifice can be acknowledged only when it's convenient. Do parents love only once a year? Do they support us only on Sundays? Do they pray for us only during exam season? No. Their love is relentless, their loyalty unconditional, their prayers eternal. Then how dare we give them just a day? --- 🕯️ Real-Life Reflections: Forgotten Candles of Our Lives Visit an old age home and you will see forgotten candles flickering dimly, waiting for someone to relight their flames. Mothers who once carried their children now carry loneliness. Fathers who once stood tall now sit silently by windows, hoping someone might knock on the door. "I gave him everything," says one mother, staring into her fading memories. "And now he sends money, but not himself." What do we owe them? Not riches. Not luxury. We owe them presence. We owe them honor. We owe them time. And if we fail to pay that debt in life, we will spend the rest of our lives repaying it in guilt. --- 🌙 The Islamic Perspective: A Duty, Not a Favor In Islam, honoring one's parents is not optional. It is second only to worshipping Allah. The Qur’an places “being good to parents” immediately after “worship none but Allah” (Surah Al-Isra, 17:23). > “And lower to them the wing of humility out of mercy and say: ‘My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up [when I was] small.’” — (Qur’an 17:24)
By Umair Ali Shah 9 months ago in Chapters
The Warmth of Other Suns" by Isabel Wilkerson: In-depth Review
This masterpiece isn't just a history book—it's a symphony of human experiences that will leave you breathless, angry, hopeful, and profoundly moved, sometimes all within the same chapter. The author has crafted something extraordinary here: a work that reads like a novel but carries the weight and authority of impeccable scholarship.
By Soibifaa9 months ago in Chapters
How TO Get Respect !. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
1. Call who calls you. 2. Visit who visits you . 3. Ignore who ignores you. The principles "Call who calls you, visit who visits you, and ignore who ignores you" offer a straightforward yet powerful philosophy for cultivating **respect** in your relationships. At its core, this approach advocates for **reciprocity and self-worth**.
By MD Melon9 months ago in Chapters
The importance of authenticity: His true power returns when he sheds the foreign influences and reconnects with his roots.. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
The importance of authenticity: His true power returns when he sheds the foreign influences and reconnects with his roots.---- The Priest-King loses his connection to his power and his land by embracing foreign objects and practices (the throne, crown, clothing, marble floors, and even the blood ritual itself). His brother, the High Priest of the Dark God, helps him realize that true power comes from being rooted in his own land and identity.----It all started with a dizzy spell. One minute I was the Priest-King, crown on my head, performing a ritual, and the next, I was almost on the floor. My ornate crown clattered away, making a racket. Just as I thought I was going down, a hand grabbed my arm, pulling me back up.
By MD Melon9 months ago in Chapters
When Hearts Collide.
Brussels was a world away from Marlowe Bay. Cobblestone streets and Gothic architecture replaced sandy paths and wooden piers. The salty tang of the sea was traded for the scent of roasted coffee and damp stone. And Ava, for the first time in her life, felt split down the middle.
By Krypton 10 months ago in Chapters
When Hearts Collide.
In Marlowe Bay, summer had its own rhythm: lazy mornings, sunny afternoons, and evenings when the air smelled of salt and hope. Ava had begun to fall into the beat of it, like a dance she hadn’t realized she was learning.
By Krypton 10 months ago in Chapters
When Hearts Collide.
Marlowe Bay awoke with a golden yawn, the sun casting shimmering ripples across the water’s surface. Gulls wheeled overhead, their cries sharp and distant. Ava watched the sunlight make patterns on the ceiling's wooden beams as she slept in Liam's bed. She had stayed the night, though they had simply talked and fallen asleep in one another’s arms. There was a calm between them now—a soft steadiness, like the tide pulling gently at the shore.
By Krypton 10 months ago in Chapters