Excerpt
Hoisted Strong…She soldiers on!
Anything but a knock on the door … Hena was at the verge of leaving the world behind! Hena had withdrawn from the world. The pain with which she had lived for such a long time suddenly seemed vanishing. The child in her soul was waking to a strange situation and she felt dismayed. Hena had practically forgotten that she was a victim of a warfare. She tried to remember when she had been admitted into the hospital. There were people scampering around her and a few had rescued her from the rubble. And all that was necessary as patients had to be immediately moved in emergency. Hena was one among them. The hospital was bombed. All that she remembered was that people were frantically being lifted from the hospital premises and she was left in her bed as she couldn’t move. She called out to a fellow at her bedside but he threw his hands up in despair. With anticipation and frustration stuck upon face, Hena decided to stay on . After a breath she felt her soul drifting into oblivion. All around her screams continued yet her soul was undeniably moving on into a mysterious zone. Where, she didn't know, and Why, she wasn’t sure. But pouncing upon make beliefs, she witnessed her soul floating in an alchemy of shattered schemes. She was long gone! In any case her identity was gradually fading. In one word, she was dying after a long spell of sickness. Months of treatment had gotten her totally transformed. Cell by cell her body had degenerated. But oddly enough, she was transcending all norms and forms to face “herself,” with all certainty. And now, something else seemed to have taken over her soul. A drastic change was finding its way into her fealty feels. It had taken a long time for her to arrive at that point in time. The journey and the feel of it was way too long. And yes, the way of it was all unbound. And for the most closest course (ever seen nearest to be concurred —) was this open door 🚪 untimely drawn. And as an all out show, that door was ajar with the grace of illumining lights exuding thro’ it. Through and thro’ that bright ephemeral sight —something inviting was ushering her to move on. She stepped up and soon realized that it was a mirage. It kept moving and found herself extending over unending grounds. It was as if a veil over her eyes had been removed. The only thing that kept her company were these verses from her 📔 diaries which had written in the past . For some reason she found those words reverberating through her senses. “O! Look! There’s a mirage fading into distance as it gently grows, Receding in time, it’s that evanescence, vanishing thro’ illusory glows ! But as evinced, the path takes on its own journey, even if—the dingy-darkly, daintily floats Forthwith, there’s also gazing, both in and out, frantic as in loafing, yet -partying along those dungeon roads Adjacent, there’s a place where the golden gardens glow But underneath its torpor, that ever in bare earth, glides by so… O! Look above not below! There’s cumulus radiance, painted to perfection; ( like long enough to conceal horizon,)as above so below. Like long horizons casted to progress slow It’s a long voyage frankly of those— founding of which, ventures one unto the other doors, A threshold put on to beaming strands , Fetch it, to know it, for what it is , before any other thought captures it’s soul! O! There’s cumulus covering ‘horizons, equating to stealth, as it swiftly poses to be exposed Afoot , Along comes the turn , around the ditch, casting that imagery as in transposed! “ Such and so, held over those lines, Hena felt all about, all around. Sometimes she wondered whether it was a day’s routine moving forward into the endless or had she already crossed over. It felt like the eternity’s tireless run was slipping her into oblivion. And as the live long hours had finally passed along, a slumber reigned over on and on, rallying her as completely unfound. And, right on those surreptitious grounds …she dwelled on ! Her mind was thinking and repeating everything over and again. And in this, all that came thro’ were memories from past. And yet again… With hope stuck upon face—she got reminded of the last words from a book lying next to her bed. It was a book written by Ludwig Bemelmans, 1939 “Two straight lines they broke their bread and brushed their teeth and went to bed .” Then on, deep unto a far off place, she remained uncharted in time all “alone.” She was slipping into a deep sleep. Papers from her reading table blew up into tatters and a dusty calm enveloped the air. A passing bomber had dropped its arsenal. Within moments Hena found herself walking through those dwellings and forging anon . She didn’t realize what had exactly happened. The debris had scattered all around. Suddenly a draft of cool breeze drifted askance —only to come back, swirling to be her own; Wandering through those outer spaces Hena found herself feeling light and quite liberated. Beside her she felt aliens were knocked on a door as if casting strange shadows 🚪 Yet, in all this she was finally reaching the innermost strength on her own! There, her soul was so agog and so Akon, Strayed far and wide , much before it was all finally done —all done, she took an agonal breath. She gasped and all of a sudden, a flood of reassurance came tripping home as if after running days affront. Thusly, the ebb and flow kept her moving on and on ; and on and along And as her life throb of aeons had scattered its severed self, her soul burst 💥 all its bonds and merged into nothingness. And , like a poignant story ending to echo—her entity had long gone , long gone! Now…. Her frozen tears were free to melt into the streams of unwinding turns. Her entity had merged with the elements of earth, flowing as a wave traversing thro’ thousands of myriadic spuns. Then quickened to speeds, she thought she had arrived home. And there… a course, about five course long headed straight —unto a voyage. It was tracking no sojourn. And there—coming off as the first ray of hope, and passing thro’ ‘wildernesses she appeared and disappeared as glimmers spreading across the sky. Thus far —her creator had taken chances to lead her on—into that new future , quite unknown. Technically, she was being subjected to an evolution perhaps 🤔 of a wondrous fortitude, all so delightfully spun around the timed-machine, mining along. And supposedly, that was to make —a better version of her, like a quiet making of a star flickering in the deep oceanic skies, all at once But, within she felt like a shoddy wick glimmering in the embers of satanic verses inlaid upon —those infernal grounds. In there, she felt held in an unknown realm of a fleeting scheme with many “Ifs and buts ,” stapled to many parameters echoing: move this way ; not there. All that grace casted upon her soul. In a way it was like being whisked and swiftly switched unto angles of bottomless pits ,wherein she was whizzing past her own sensing fields with an awareness that made her alternatively feel —lost and found. In ways, her identity was disappearing and all that was happening at nautical speeds—like running interstellar marathons. And of course, she was brutally waking, quaking and subsequently, dying in the midst of a planar spiel. That is to say, she was encroaching an unchartered territory, beyond. Those were deep dark skies where everything was extending endlessly —on and on. Yes, it wasn’t any familiar environment. She was staged in the open universe, swiftly bound over streaks of light, and travelled thro’ distant galaxies, moving towards planetary fields anon. Her entity was flowing through the stars ⭐️ and for sure, those stars were no equal to the planet that she had just left behind. © ✍️ Madhu Goteti, October 8th, 2025
By Madhu Goteti 6 months ago in Fiction
A Knock at the Door
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By Jocelyn Paige Kelly6 months ago in Fiction
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By shakir hamid6 months ago in Fiction
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M Mehran No one knew when the library appeared. One morning, the townspeople of Merrinfield woke to find a tall glass building standing at the edge of the river — a place that hadn’t been there the day before. It shimmered faintly, like sunlight caught on water. There was no sign, no doorbell, only a single line etched into the glass:
By Muhammad Mehran6 months ago in Fiction
Shining Through: The Best World Record of 2025
In a year that many expected to be like any other, 2025 surprised the world with something extraordinary — a global movement so powerful, it set a world record no one had ever imagined possible. Not for speed, strength, or technology — but for kindness. It all began in January, when a small school in Finland launched a project called "Kindness Chain". The goal was simple: every student had to perform one act of kindness and then encourage the person they helped to pass it on. The idea quickly spread across social media, catching fire faster than any viral challenge before it. Within weeks, thousands of people in dozens of countries were joining in — planting trees for strangers, helping the elderly with groceries, sending supportive letters to people they’d never met, and donating food and clothes in record amounts. The hashtag #PassItOn2025 trended globally, and for the first time in years, positive news was leading every headline. Then, something unexpected happened. In March, the Global Goodwill Council, a non-profit international watchdog for humanitarian efforts, began documenting the movement. They counted over 700 million confirmed acts of kindness by April — an all-time world record. But more than the numbers, what shocked everyone was how the movement had spread to places once divided by conflict, politics, or pain. In a small town in Syria, children from formerly opposing groups planted olive trees together. In Brazil, a youth group cleaned up entire neighborhoods, then taught digital skills to elderly locals. In India, a community pooled resources to build homes for displaced families. Across oceans and borders, kindness became the world’s most powerful common language. By June, schools, companies, hospitals, and even governments began organizing large-scale "positivity days." Businesses gave employees paid time to volunteer. Hospitals saw patient recovery improve when kindness programs were introduced. Some cities reported a measurable drop in crime rates, linking it to the growing culture of empathy and community care. Perhaps the most emotional moment came on World Kindness Day, November 13th. Coordinated across 193 countries, over 1 billion people participated in the largest synchronized human chain ever recorded — physically and digitally. People joined hands in real life or shared live selfies online with heartfelt messages of unity. From the snowy mountains of Canada to the deserts of Africa, the image of humanity, hand-in-hand, circled the Earth. The Guinness World Records confirmed it as the largest collective human event in history. News outlets dubbed it “The Year the World Remembered Its Heart.” The story of 2025 became more than a trend — it became a testimony to the strength of compassion. The United Nations honored the movement with a new global observance: The International Day of Kindness and Unity, to be celebrated every year on the third Saturday of November. The event would serve as a reminder that the greatest changes don’t always come from big inventions or political breakthroughs — sometimes, they start with small, selfless acts. And while the official record was noted, most people involved didn’t care about the numbers. What stayed with them were the connections they formed, the smiles they saw, and the healing they felt — both in others and in themselves. As the sun set on 2025, one truth remained clear: in a world often overwhelmed by noise and division, the quiet power of kindness had shone through, louder and brighter than anyone ever expected. It wasn’t just a record. It was a revolution — of hope, unity, and the simple belief that one good deed can truly change the world.
By Muhammad Saad 6 months ago in Fiction
Behind Bars, Beyond Borders: The Struggle of the Global Sumud Flotilla
Behind Bars, Beyond Borders: The Struggle of the Global Sumud Flotilla The roar of the sea had been replaced by the clang of iron doors. For the activists of the Global Sumud Flotilla, who had set sail with nothing but hope and humanitarian aid, the sudden transition from open waves to concrete cells felt surreal. Yet, even in captivity, their mission refused to die.
By Wings of Time 6 months ago in Fiction
Morning walk and exercise
A New Dawn The sun had barely begun its gentle climb over the horizon when Meera tied her shoelaces and stepped out of her front door. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the earthy scent of dew-kissed grass and the faint sweetness of blooming jasmine from a neighbor’s garden. For years, Meera had promised herself she would start walking in the mornings. But life—work, family, excuses—always got in the way. That changed three months ago. After a routine checkup, her doctor gave her a gentle but firm warning: “Meera, your body is speaking to you. You need to listen.” Her blood pressure was rising, her energy levels were dipping, and sleep had become a nightly struggle. The prescription? A simple daily routine of walking and light exercise. So, on a chilly July morning, she began. The first week was tough. Her muscles protested, her mind begged to go back to bed, and her feet weren’t used to early-morning roads. But she kept going. Now, it had become a ritual. Not a chore—but a cherished part of her day. As she walked through the quiet park, the familiar rhythm of her feet on the gravel path was comforting. Birds flitted from tree to tree, chirping their morning greetings. A pair of squirrels chased each other around an old mango tree. Everything felt alive, fresh, and full of possibility. She passed Ravi uncle, a retired army man who never missed his 5:30 a.m. walk. He gave her a cheerful salute, which she returned with a smile. A little ahead, she saw Anaya, a college student who jogged with music in her ears and determination in her eyes. Every morning, their paths crossed—strangers tied together by the same unspoken commitment to health and peace of mind. After her 30-minute walk, Meera reached the yoga platform by the lake. She placed her mat down and began her stretches. The lake shimmered under the first rays of sunlight, and the gentle sound of water lapping against the stones brought a calm to her mind. Breathing in, she raised her arms to the sky. Breathing out, she folded into a forward bend. With each stretch, each breath, she felt more grounded, more grateful. Her mind wandered to how far she had come—not just in distance, but in mindset. She was sleeping better now, eating more mindfully, and feeling more energetic throughout the day. Her colleagues at the bank even commented on her glowing skin and lighter mood. But the biggest change? Her outlook on life. She no longer woke up dreading the day. Instead, she looked forward to her mornings—the time she had all to herself, free from deadlines, emails, and chores. A time when she connected with nature, her breath, and her body. It wasn’t about losing weight or looking a certain way. It was about feeling alive. One day, after finishing her routine, she sat by the lake and noticed a young boy sitting alone on a bench, hunched over and looking anxious. Something about his posture tugged at her heart. She approached him gently. “Are you okay, beta?” she asked. He looked up, startled, then nodded. “Just… worried about my exams. Can’t focus at home. I come here to clear my head.” Meera smiled and sat beside him. “You know, when I started coming here, I was worried too—about my health, my work, my family. But walking and breathing in this fresh air… it helps. Try it. Just a short walk.” The boy looked hesitant, but the next morning, Meera saw him walking slowly along the trail. She gave him an encouraging nod. Over the weeks, more familiar faces joined her morning circle—a new mother pushing a stroller, a retired teacher doing tai chi, a teenager listening to audiobooks while jogging. The park became a small, moving community. Strangers began smiling at each other, sharing stories, offering fruit or tea from thermoses. The quiet walks gave rise to quiet friendships. Meera realized that her morning walk was more than just a routine. It was a ripple of wellness—starting with her and spreading gently through her community. As October rolled in, the mornings grew cooler and the leaves rustled with a hint of gold. Meera added a light sweater to her outfit but kept her stride steady. Her body was stronger, but more importantly, her heart was lighter. Every morning, as the sun rose over the lake, it wasn’t just a new day. It was a new Meera.
By Muhammad Saad 6 months ago in Fiction










