5 vignettes from the sub continent

 

πŸ–‹️ Today’s Feature: 5 Vignettes from the Subcontinent
In our signature storytelling style — raw, reflective, and rooted in reality.
By Faraz Parvez
Professor Dr. (Retired) Arshad Afzal
Retired Faculty Member, Umm Al-Qura University, Makkah, KSA
(Pseudonym of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal)


1. The Rickshaw Driver and the University Boy

Lahore, 3:10 PM.
A dusty rickshaw stops at the Liberty roundabout. A university boy, airpods dangling and voice sharp, argues about fare.
“Meter ka zamana gaya, bhai jaan,” the rickshaw driver says, wiping his brow.
“I’m not paying 300 for a 5-minute ride.”
The driver smiles, not offended. “You pay thousands in tuition but fight over the sweat of a working man?”
Silence. The boy stares. Then gets off, throws a 500 rupee note into the seat, and walks away.
The rickshaw driver sighs, not at the boy — but at the dying art of dignity.


2. The Marriage That Never Was

Karachi, Defence Phase 2.
She wore makeup every Sunday — red lips, pale foundation — just in case he returned.
Twenty years ago, her father said, “He’s beneath us.”
The boy had cried. She hadn’t. She wasn’t allowed.
Now, she teaches online Quran classes. Her voice breaks every time she reads the verse about Qadr — destiny.
Some nights, she wonders what it would feel like to be loved without conditions.
But mornings arrive. Tea is made. Students log in.
Life moves — not forward — but around the wound.


3. The Boy Who Sold Pens

Near Rawalpindi Saddar.
He holds a tray of pens — all broken.
He’s 10, limping slightly, eyes too wise.
A woman offers him bread. He refuses. “Sell pen. Not beg.”
Another man laughs and walks off. “Idiot.”
Later, the boy counts his coins. 42 rupees. Enough for rice.
He feeds his little sister with trembling hands, whispering a story he made up about flying over mountains.
He doesn’t know that this story will one day become a book.
But for now, he is just a boy. With broken pens. And an unbroken spirit.


4. The Widow in Srinagar

Kashmir, frozen winter.
She lost her son in the crossfire between slogans and silence.
Now, she knits socks and sells them to tourists, some of whom ask, “Is it safe here?”
She smiles politely. “Only God is safe.”
At night, she kisses a torn photograph of a smiling boy in school uniform.
Once a month, she dreams of him bringing warm bread.
She wakes up to empty shelves and cold wind.
Still, she lights a candle. Still, she prays.
Her resilience is not loud.
But it is impossible to ignore.


5. The Dream Deferred

Dhaka, Bangladesh.
He had dreams of Silicon Valley, AI projects, start-up funding.
Instead, he repairs phones in a cramped alley, surrounded by tangled wires and fading posters.
Yet, every day, he builds something — not in code, but in courage.
He teaches a kid nearby how to reboot a crashed system.
Then says, “Always back up your data. And your dreams.”
He laughs at his own line. But his eyes betray a longing.
He never left the alley.
But he built a life anyway.


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πŸ“£ Share with those who appreciate art that whispers truth.
More voices. More stories. One soul.
Keep visiting, keep reflecting.
Until tomorrow.


By Faraz Parvez
Professor Dr. (Retired) Arshad Afzal
(Pseudonym of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal)

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