BY   SAREENA KAMRAN

In a room,

sitting with my classmates.

Women’s rights reading that people hate

Women can be a chef

She shouldn’t be a slave

sit my bro, why are you in a haste!

Listen a truth, EMPOWER your mate

physical, psychological abuses she faces

Emotional and Financial not considered a case

Oh, my dear women

receive your Honor, given by your faith

walk in the right footsteps.

ACKNOWLEDGE your place.

My dear women,

Heaven is your fate.

The Weight of Midnight

It all began at midnight. You know, that type of night where even the air seems strange, too quiet, too motionless. Like something is observing. The wedding was a week hence. Everybody was fatigued, and everybody was asleep.

Except Hamza.

I heard the steps, quick but quiet. I walked into the hallway and caught him — hoodie up, shoes in his hand, attempting to slip out. Where was he going? It wasn’t solely sus… it was all wrong. Like something was dragging him out.

Then there was her tone — Anaya. Fierce and wild like thunder on a still sky.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Hamza froze. “It’s midnight and you’re going out?!” she yelled.

With absolutely no fear in his voice, Hamza said, “Can’t you just mind your own business?”

It was about to be a full-fledged drama when I intervened.

“Let him go,” I said with a peaceful voice.

Anaya glared at me as if I’d gone mad. “Huzaifa, you’re coddling him!”

“Let him go,” I said once more. “I’ll deal with the wedding arrangements.”

Umaima screamed from her room, “Huzaifa bhai, in case anything goes wrong, we’re coming after you!”

I remained quiet. I merely let Hamza fade into the darkness.

But there was something about that moment… it wasn’t right. It felt like the darkness engulfed him.

The next day was chaos.

Decorators were late. The mehendi artist cancelled. Cousins showed up unannounced. I managed all. Everyone kept yelling “Huzaifa bhai this,” “Huzaifa bhai that.” I just kept fixing everything as I always do.

But something else was annoying me.

Hamza had come back early morning. But he was silent. Eyes red, not because of sleep. Because of fear. That kid, who never remains quiet, was not speaking a word.

He didn’t even quarrel with Anaya.

I sensed something went wrong that night. I could sense it. But I haven’t asked yet.

Two nights later, I saw him sitting in the lounge. Lights off. Just staring at the wall.

“You’re okay?” I asked.

He nodded slowly. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Nothing.”

But his voice was not steady.

He seemed like someone who witnessed something he couldn’t describe.

That’s when I knew. It was no ordinary outing.

The evening of the wedding day, I was in my room, running over the list. My phone vibrated. I didn’t know the number.

I picked up.

Static.

Then, a whisper.

“Bhai… something followed me back.”

I was still.

“What?”

The voice returned — Hamza’s voice.

“I shouldn’t have gone there. It wasn’t a normal place.”

Then nothing.

I tried to call back. Nothing.

Cold shivers ran down my spine. I peeked out my window. Just darkness. But for some reason, I didn’t feel like we were alone.

Anaya entered the room.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

I said nothing. I couldn’t. My heart pounded.

She sat next to me and took my hand. “No matter what it is, you’ve got this. You always do.”

I nodded, but I didn’t believe her.

I didn’t sleep that night.

And I wasn’t alone.

I could hear Hamza walking up and down the hallway. Stopped right outside my door. Just stood there for about five minutes.

And then I heard him whisper something… but not in his natural voice.

Like someone else was talking through him.

The day of the wedding arrived. Everything seemed perfect on the outside. Guests were laughing, music was playing, and food was being served.

But Hamza remained silent the entire time. Wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t smile.

Once Anaya departed, I discovered him sitting by himself close to the gate.

“You okay now?”

He finally uttered something.

“There’s something in the house.”

I nervously laughed. “Don’t be funny now, man.”

“I’m not being funny,” he replied.

“I went to the graveyard behind the rail track on the night before. Just to prove a point to my friends.”

“I went there and got something… just a dumb rock. But since then, I hear whispers. And last night… I saw it standing at the foot of my bed.”

I didn’t have a clue what to say. We just sat there in silence. Cold silence.

So yeah, if it wasn’t for wedding drama or if it wasn’t for sibling drama, then this story is about the fact that sometimes, even the people who are closest to you can be hiding something dark. Something they can’t explain.

It’s about how I was trying to hold the house together while something intangible was trying to rip it apart.

And now?

Now I’m just waiting for whatever Hamza brought home… to reappear.

Because deep down, I know —

It never left.

– This horror piece is conceived by “Huzaifa”

I was invited by Fatima Jinnah University for Women to talk about the topic of fiction and non-fiction in contemporary times at the prestigious occasion of Fatamians Literature Festival 2023. In which I explained my own journey that how an engineer became a writer, i explained about my passion to write fiction and non-fiction, because I had always used parts of non-fiction (reality ) and merged them with fiction to create intriguing stories; an example is my work of “the oblivion of affection” and “the hitlers nephew”, “A slash B normal”.

I also explained that how did i organically started making money just because I loved writing and i wanted to invest my time to write novels. The power of imagination is unreal, I also emphasized on the aspect that we are never going to get a combo of fiction and non-fiction in our mainstream media, so start writing today. If you have some unique stories to tell then just start writing, because 13 years ago when I started writing the hitlers nephew I only had ideas but my writing was not up to the mark, today I revised it because the stories that I had written back then were intriguing. So, now that i have polished my writing skills, I can also revised my old works, my current work triviality is also inspired by final year project of my bachelors degree, ” The Zigbee based synchronised clocks”, and even the idea of that project came about because of a dream that I saw in which I was stranded in a desert. Therefore, even for my readers the message is somewhat similar, start turning your dreams into realities, or as a writer start turning your ideas into physical books.

Hello there, this is the creator of Topibaaz speaking, I am called, “Ammar akhter khan”. Amidst the chaos of the Pandemic, I started this blog/social media infotainment website called Topibaaz. However, I did not have enough time to introduce myself. As my Amazon bio says, Ammar Khan is a nerdy researcher, intricate novelist, and a picky traveler, his books are published on Amazon and he has also presented his various research papers at international conferences. Not only this Ammar Khan has an academic writing course that is present on Udemy for beginners, along with it, if you are interested in data analysis, do delve into other courses that I had published on my Udemy account. Just search my full name on Google, “ammar akhter khan”, and I am an open book. Additionally, Ammar is a Pro-earth and mainly focused on global issues and research related to the solution to Global warming, Poverty eradication, Provision of education, and introduction of new technologies in the World.

I have recently published a novel called Triviality – science fiction. Along with it, my other writings are Hitler’s Nephew, the oblivion of Affection, A slash b normal, and Jibran of India. Also, do read the short stories that I had published on Topibaaz, especially, “the last cigarette that I lit” which is not yet completed, but soon I will be able to complete the story. Anyways, I have long-term goals to serve humanity, whether I use my education as my tool or my knowledge, or my content. Say good luck to me!