"You are the moon in the midst of my sky,
On a silent night,
You are the sweetly smeared dew
In my morning.
You are the belief in my eyelashes,
The world's best man,
You are my love's history,
You are the beginning of true love.
You are my laughter and tears,
You are love,
You are in my harsh days;
Cool breeze."
About the Creator
Md. Shakil Khan
Don't Trust People,
Who Tell You Other People's " SECRET"
TRUST ME.
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More stories from Md. Shakil Khan and writers in Writers and other communities.
The Friend Who Stayed
JAli and Hamza had been friends for as long as anyone could remember. They grew up in the same street, went to the same school, and shared everything from lunch boxes to secrets. Their bond was simple, honest, and unbreakable. People often said that if you saw one of them, the other wouldn’t be far behind. As children, their world was small but full of joy. They played cricket in the narrow street until the sun disappeared. They laughed over the smallest things. And every evening, they would sit on the rooftop, dreaming about their future. “We’ll be successful together,” Hamza would say with confidence. Ali would smile and nod. “Always together.” But life, as it often does, had its own plans. As the years passed, things began to change. Hamza was brilliant in studies. He got admission into a prestigious university in the city. It was a big opportunity, one that could change his life forever. Everyone in the neighborhood celebrated his success. Ali, on the other hand, couldn’t continue his studies. His father fell ill, and the responsibility of the house came onto his shoulders. He started working at a small shop nearby, leaving his dreams behind. The day Hamza left for the city was emotional. “I’ll come back soon,” Hamza said, hugging Ali tightly. Ali smiled, hiding his sadness. “Don’t forget me.” “Never,” Hamza replied. At first, everything remained the same. They talked on the phone almost every day. Hamza would share stories about his new life, his classes, and the city’s bright lights. Ali would listen quietly, happy for his friend. But slowly, the calls became less frequent. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Hamza got busy with his new life. New friends, new experiences, new dreams. Without realizing it, he started drifting away from the past. Ali never complained. He still waited for Hamza’s calls. Sometimes he would pick up his phone, dial his number, and then stop, thinking, “He must be busy.” Time moved on. Years later, Hamza became successful. He had a good job, a comfortable life, and everything he once dreamed of. But somewhere deep inside, something always felt missing. One day, while cleaning his apartment, he found an old photograph. It was of him and Ali, standing in their street, covered in dust after a long cricket match, smiling without any worries. Hamza stared at the picture for a long time. Memories came rushing back. The laughter. The promises. The friendship. And suddenly, he realized what was missing. Without wasting another moment, he decided to go back home. The journey felt longer than usual. His heart was filled with a mix of excitement and guilt. He kept thinking about Ali. Would he still be the same? Would he forgive him? When Hamza reached the old street, everything looked familiar, yet different. The houses were the same, but time had left its marks. He walked slowly toward Ali’s house. His hands felt cold. He knocked on the door. After a few seconds, the door opened. It was Ali. For a moment, both of them just stared at each other. Years of silence stood between them. Then Ali smiled. A simple, warm smile, just like before. “Hamza?” he said softly. Hamza felt his throat tighten. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Ali shook his head gently. “You’re late,” he said, “but you’re here.” That was enough. No complaints. No questions. No anger. Just acceptance. They sat together for hours, talking like nothing had changed. Ali told him about his life, his struggles, and how he managed everything. Hamza listened quietly, feeling both proud and ashamed. “You did all this alone?” Hamza asked. Ali smiled. “Not alone. I had your memories.” Those words hit deeply. Hamza realized that while he moved forward in life, Ali had carried their friendship in his heart all along. Before leaving, Hamza made a promise. “This time, I won’t disappear,” he said. Ali laughed softly. “You better not.” As Hamza walked away that evening, he felt lighter. Success had given him many things, but it had also taken something important away. Now, he had found it again. Because true friendship doesn’t end with distance. It doesn’t fade with time. And it doesn’t break with silence. It simply waits. For the right moment. For the right return. And when that moment comes, it feels as if nothing was ever lost.
By Salman khana day ago in Writers
Foraging Appalachia’s Wild Edibles
It's that time of year again and Appalachia offers a remarkable abundance for anyone willing to learn its seasonal gifts and practice careful gathering. Across ridges, holler's, stream-side's, and meadows, edible plants, berries, roots, and fungi appear through every part of year. Knowledge is key and teaches not only what can be eaten, but also how to gather with respect so that these resources remain available far into future.
By Tim Carmichaela day ago in Feast
Comments (2)
Great work! Well written!
"Love's Celestial Essence" encapsulates a timeless romance, where the beloved is the moonlight in the night, the dewy promise of each morning, and the guiding belief in every moment. This title evokes the ethereal and enduring nature of love, akin to the celestial beauty of the night sky.