noor ul amin
Stories (149)
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The Last Letter I Never Sent
The Last Letter I Never Sent It’s funny how we carry people with us — not just in memory, but in the way we smile, the way we hesitate before saying certain words, the way we look at the rain. I used to watch the rain with my mother. She said it made the world clean again. I didn’t understand it then. I was only ten the last time I saw her. One Friday afternoon, she left to pick up a birthday cake for my brother. She wore her favorite green scarf and that lipstick she only used on “happy days.” She never came home. A drunk driver ran a red light and took her from us in seconds. They told us she died instantly. I always wondered if she felt anything — if she knew we were waiting.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Confessions
7 Silent Killers of Mental Grooming
In the age of curated perfection, self-help slogans, and an endless supply of motivational content, we are constantly told how to improve ourselves: build habits, control your thoughts, practice gratitude, hustle, meditate, repeat. While these practices are powerful tools, they only address one side of the equation.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Humans
The Day I Almost Forgot My Mother's Voice
I used to think memory was permanent. I thought the important moments—the big smiles, the tragic goodbyes, the soft laughter in the kitchen—would live forever in my mind like old records waiting to be replayed. But I was wrong. Memory is a fading photograph, and one day, I realized I was losing my mother’s voice.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Confessions
“The Man Who Remembered Everyone—But Forgot Himself”
1. The Whispering Room It began in a white room with no windows. A man sat on a small metal chair, his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the floor. A name tag on his chest read “Isaac”, but he had no memory of how it got there.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Humans
I Grew As I Knew, Ignoring
The air in the small, cramped apartment always smelled faintly of stale coffee and unread aspirations. Not my aspirations, mind you, but my older brother Ethan’s. He was the golden child, the prodigy, the one whose brilliance was a constant, blinding glare against my own quiet existence. And I, Alex, was merely the shadow that stretched behind him, unnoticed, unremarkable. I grew up accustomed to it, to the casual dismissal, the half-heard answers, the way conversations invariably pivoted back to Ethan’s latest triumph, his newest grand idea. I grew as I knew, ignoring.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Humans
The Diner Booth Dreamers
The old diner booth, scarred with decades of gossip and shared secrets, was where Maya and Liam first truly connected. It wasn’t their first meeting, not even their first deep conversation, but it was the night the flimsy threads of acquaintance began to weave into the sturdy rope of friendship.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Humans
The Day I Stopped Chasing Perfect
I. The Mirror Moment I remember the exact moment everything cracked. It wasn’t a dramatic breakup or a career-ending mistake. It was me, sitting alone in my tiny studio apartment, staring at a blank Word document I had rewritten for the seventh time. I was trying to draft a two-paragraph email to a client and had convinced myself that if it wasn’t flawless, I’d lose their respect.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Humans
The Whispers of Eternity
In a realm where twilight lingered like a breath between day and night, there lived a young poet named Amir. He dwelled in the spaces between thoughts, weaving verses that echoed with the whispers of eternity. Amir's heart was a canvas for philosophy – the kind that danced in the shadows of love and the outlines of the infinite.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Fiction
The Crypto Confession of a Cash-Strapped Coder
I didn’t grow up poor, but we never had “extra.” The kind of extra where birthdays came with new sneakers, not a dinner reminder that rent was due. That’s why, when I landed my first job as a software engineer in Manhattan, it felt like I was finally breaking the cycle.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Humans
Whispers of Resilience
The year was 2077, and the world was a shadow of its former self. The Great Glitch of '68 had rewired the planet's atmospheric control systems, plunging vast swathes of the Earth into perpetual twilight and unleashing unpredictable, violent storms. Humanity, once thriving, now eked out a precarious existence in scattered, self-sufficient settlements, constantly battling the elements and dwindling resources.
By noor ul amin7 months ago in Humans
The Power of Poets
In a quiet village nestled between two rivers, a boy was born with silence braided into his voice. While the other children ran wild under the sky, their laughter trailing behind them like kites in the wind, this boy would sit at the edge of the fields with a small notebook in his lap and a pencil worn down to the nub.
By noor ul amin8 months ago in Humans
