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Celebrating our half Sindhi blood! Red n Black!!!22-02-26
22/02/2026

Celebrating our half Sindhi blood! Red n Black!!!
22-02-26

Dear Saud.In the stillness of these mountains, among the clouds and pine-scented air, I found more than just an escape—I...
02/01/2026

Dear Saud.

In the stillness of these mountains, among the clouds and pine-scented air, I found more than just an escape—I found a brother who opened his home and his heart.

Thank you for being the kind of friend who doesn't just offer shelter, but creates sanctuary. For the conversations that turned into reflections on faith, for the silences that spoke louder than words, and for reminding me that the truest companionship is the kind that draws us closer to our Creator.

We came seeking peace in the mountains, but found it in remembering Allah together, in the gratitude we expressed, and in the simple act of breaking bread while counting our blessings.

May Allah preserve this bond, elevate your status, and grant you from His bounty in ways that exceed your imagination. You've reminded me that true hospitality isn't measured in comforts provided, but in how much closer to Allah you help someone get.

Some friendships refresh the soul. This is one of them.

"And the servants of the Most Merciful are those who walk upon the earth in humility, and when the ignorant address them, they say words of peace." — Qur'an 25:63

JazakAllah Khair, my brother.

Until the mountains call us again.

Behind every breakthrough is a graveyard of failed attempts. I've learned that discipline isn't the enemy of creativity—...
13/12/2025

Behind every breakthrough is a graveyard of failed attempts. I've learned that discipline isn't the enemy of creativity—it's the framework that allows it to breathe. Success is just failure refined through relentless consistency and the courage to start again.

13.12.2025

The last of the portraits. Winters of '24.The golden hour series.
03/11/2025

The last of the portraits. Winters of '24.
The golden hour series.

❤️ 24/7/25
24/07/2025

❤️ 24/7/25

Zainab. Our youngest. 24 - 7 - 25
24/07/2025

Zainab. Our youngest. 24 - 7 - 25

Home. Moments with angle.
23/07/2025

Home. Moments with angle.

...
15/07/2025

...

memories. 7-10-2025
10/07/2025

memories. 7-10-2025

The meri go round of life! it beautiful. Fatima and Zainab.
10/07/2025

The meri go round of life! it beautiful. Fatima and Zainab.

Abba Jan.
03/07/2025

Abba Jan.

Chai aur Dil ki BaatThe small café on MM Alam Road was quieter than usual that monsoon evening. Rain pattered against th...
16/06/2025

Chai aur Dil ki Baat

The small café on MM Alam Road was quieter than usual that monsoon evening. Rain pattered against the glass windows as Hassan wiped down tables, his shirt sleeves rolled up from rushing between the kitchen and counter. At twenty-one, juggling his café job with his Punjab University classes felt overwhelming some days.

That's when he noticed him—an elderly uncle in a simple white kurta, sitting alone by the corner window. He'd ordered just one cup of chai an hour ago, but Hassan had caught him glancing at the fresh samosas in the display case, then looking away with a small sigh.

Hassan recognized that look. His own nana had the same expression when money was tight but pride was strong.

During his break, he approached with a plate of samosas. "Uncle, maaf kijiye, but we made extra samosas for a canceled order. They'll just go bad. Would you please help us?"

His tired eyes brightened. "Beta, if they're going to waste..." He accepted gratefully, pressing his hand to his heart. "Allah apka bhala kare."

They talked for thirty minutes. His name was Akram sahib. His wife had passed two months ago, and these café visits helped fill the empty hours. He'd been an Urdu teacher at Government College for thirty-five years.

"Tum mere behtereen students ki tarah ho," he said softly. "Neki ka dil hai tumhare paas. Allah tumhara bhala kare."

Hassan returned to work with tears in his eyes and warmth spreading through his chest.

The next evening, Akram sahib was back. This time, he carried a small cloth bag.

"Mere pyare bete ke liye," he smiled, "jo samose bachane wala hai."

Inside was a beautiful, weathered copy of Allama Iqbal's poetry with a note in perfect Urdu calligraphy: "Hassan beta—Nek dil hamesha roshni failata hai. Duniya mein aur log chahiye tumhare jaise. Tumhara dost, Akram."

Three months later, Hassan quoted those same Iqbal verses in his literature presentation, Akram sahib's book clutched in his hands. He'd found more than poetry—he'd found proof that rahmat creates circles of light we never see.

Some days, being someone's son from another father means everything.

* ❤️

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