Micro fiction has very interesting stories.

  Title: Mahmud's Little girl: Professor  Sahib was perusing a book when the lights out of nowhere went out at night. In the wake of lighting the candle, the light turned on once more. He tried a variety of methods to get the light; However, it's not finished at this point. Strange studies started creeping into his mind. Along with the fear that maybe the oxygen position had dropped nearly, but the coming moment, he dismissed the study because he was a professor. He allowed. That if the oxygen position was low, also the carbon dioxide position must be high, and if the carbon dioxide position was high, the candle should have directly extinguished – whether or not or now no longer my lungs had been weakened – I needed to have reduced in size the coronavirus. These studies made him break out in a cold sweat, and he began to wonder," What will be now? God enjoins, if commodity happens to me, what will be to my dear woman? “The mind was a battlefield of strange studies. I...

  The title of the story is "Mama, : Our Teleplay' Darguzar' was magnified. And your performance was extraordinary. The final scene of the drama was so poignant that no one could hold back their rips. You forgave your husband and made the drama dateless. Thank you so much, my son. You forgave your hubby and made the drama dateless." Thank you so much, my son. This drama has entered similar inconceivable feedback that I can not describe as a splendid addition to my career, and it has elevated my fame to new heights. A woman, who has by no means added everybody to rips, forgiving one of these massive mistakes of her hubby and determining to live together, becomes nearly a stunning decision." Mama, you will not have to work now? How so, my son? I do not understand. “ You’re the equal for your factual societies also. Have you not allowed about it? This drama seems like it's drafted rested on your life. You, too, haven't learned to forgive. You left your pri...

Title: " Delightful Young lady" Regardless of the way that she coming up short on normal excellence, every individual who passed by gave her a look. With skill, she measured the turns and curves of each gaze at her. With just a glance, she could determine who was evaluating her.. She had learned to recognize the intentions of those who gazed at her from the comfort of her home. Her grandmother constantly shared stories about the covetousness in people's eyes. According to her, every look carried a different amount of covetousness. Therefore, she could decipher pining ganders, checking eyes, admiration, or indeed love. Occasionally, a perverse look from a boy would render her helpless, as if reading his character through his eyes. The first day of college was full of emotions. Adapting to new surroundings came naturally to her, winning hearts was her forte, and captivating minds was her favorite pastime. She often said, "People often play with hearts, but I need t...

  Title: "Brother's Promise" : My family assured me, saying," I'll pick you up from the office moment and drive you to the sanitarium. still, you'll recover completely, If it's by God's plan. I intend to have your treatment carried out at the municipality's largest government sanitorium. Private medical installations constantly have lower croakers, and their freights are extravagant. Their focus seems to be on lodging as much as possible from the case. Again, government croakers are exceptionally professed and driven by a profound passion for serving humanity. Their commitment permeates every aspect of their being. They fete the essential rights of every existent, irrespective of their faith." He was proud of government croakers, while I was quietly breaking outside. I had devoted day and night to bringing my family to this position. After the demise of our parents, I took care of my two sisters and a family beyond my means. I assured them ...

Title: "Generosity!  It's Eid, and I don't want any poor person to miss out on celebrating this day. Whether fasting or not, all the poor have the right to share in our joys. I have brought 50 pairs of clothes; hang them on the charity wall and here's 20,000 rupees as Eidi for you. Go, celebrate Eid with your wife and children." Today is Eid, and who knows how the poor are celebrating, or if they are celebrating at all. I should prepare 5,000 rupee bundles so that I can assist any child worker I come across on the way. They, too, deserve respect; I don't want to wound their self-esteem by just handing them money. They must also wish to celebrate this day with their loved ones. In the garden, selling papads, toys, and polishing shoes, the joy of playing like other children will resonate with them. Holding each other, running forward and backward, laughter will echo. Ah! I am getting late. I have distributed bundles to all the children in Jinnah Garden. Even on ...

   You can't raise two children! "You   can't  bring up two kiddies, how might you take care of business? Moment, my child let me know what passed. He went to his stock's home with me. According to him,' Mother, get this orange from the table throughout the past two days It's lying there, and no one is eating it. If you've got even a bit of shame, pass and drown yourself. My son has been asking for an orange for a week, and you haven't been able to get it from the market. I was even giving you the money.'" She was thundering at me, and my screams were piercing. Tears had been falling like reminiscences of rain. My soul was writhing. Helplessness, like a bomb, had exploded inside me, shattering me into pieces. I had been sick for the last eight months. Fear had taken over me. I was afraid of people, and going to the market was synonymous with going towards the gallows for me. I had become a psychological patient. I was confined in the house fo...

  Title: "Please Stay with Me" Don't ever leave me alone Will you stay with me? "Why not... I am yours. I am with you... Do you remember once you said that what you get from begging is not love, it's charity? You spoke the truth. But a bigger truth is that sometimes we have to beg to save that love... It's a struggle. It's like pleading, like begging, just like you are doing now. Remember, once I too pleaded, begged, implored, but you placed me on the tip of your shoe. I have endured years of your betrayal and distance, but I won't do to you what you did to me. Then what difference will remain between you and me? I won't become like you because I have endured this pain for many years."

  Story of a curved young man: He was a young man with a curved stature, and upon the first glance, it seemed as if he were a godly figure. He wore a military uniform and had tattoos on his arms. When he began to speak with confidence, my skepticism transformed into belief. Not a single word he uttered was familiar to my ears. Perhaps he spoke only half a sentence, mentioning a hand gesture on the screen with a pistol box. Maybe he had seen this pistol before, which is why it had captured his attention. That's why it was strapped to his waist. Then the wind blew that perhaps no one had anticipated. The pistol fired, and a bullet shattered his neck. He couldn't even scream before being blown away. But the pistol kept firing continuously, his body convulsing, and blood oozing out. As one round of bullets ended, another fire began... This scene lasted only eighteen seconds but left me in shock. Trying to recover, my attention was drawn to a few sentences written above the vide...

  Labor Day Reflection: : For a person in the crowd, possibly a familiar face that was hard to find. In the end, the ideal individual was found. Getting through the group, he connected, got his hand, and hauled him out of the get-together. Then, at that point, beginning his cruiser, they left. In the wake of riding somewhat further, he dialed back the bicycle and halted close to a tree. Underneath the tree, there was a rough seat. He took a seat and invited the elderly laborer to join him. Discreetly, he opened his pack and took out a lunchbox. Inside were parathas and an omelet, which he placed in front of the elderly laborer, signaling him to eat. "May I ask why this generosity?" inquired the old man. There was a surprise in the old man's voice, "I too, like you, have toiled as a laborer all my life. Now, by God's grace, my children have grown up, and they don't let me do any work. I was sitting at home, watching TV, when a news anchor said someth...

  Title : "Companion of Last Year" :   Last year, I was very ill. That's why I couldn't observe fasting, which worried me a lot. But this time, when I go to Pakistan, I will fast, Insha'Allah," she said, breaking the silence. Wearing a new, crisply ironed outfit that seemed to have come from nowhere, she didn't resemble the village girl at all. "If scratching is your good intention, then see, this time you must surely observe fasting," Mohini reassured her. "I was twelve years old, Mohini when I started observing fasting regularly. Circumstances and events were cruel, and the parents of the village's young girl, Noshi, passed away, leaving her with skeptical relatives. Then, at a young age, she cleaned the false utensils of people and cleared the dirt from the homes. That fair complexion that was once there disappeared completely. So, the praised village girl turned into a scorned one," she spoke, skillfully removing makeup...

  Title : Helpful Stranger. : The withered flower of Sanz had now not only stumbled but also encountered the difficulty of strength. When the whirlwind of exertion arrived, it had to come to a halt. Now taking even a single step and lifting itself became impossible. So, it stumbled, and with a twist of its back, the baggage fell to the ground. But it cared little. It, too, sat on the ground with a broken spirit. Several minutes passed as it revived its breath, wiped away the sweat, and relieved its fatigue. As for carrying the broken load and continuing the journey, that was out of the question. It had distanced itself, even with the load. Now it was contemplating whether to get up and go home, but... what about the baggage? If only it had hired a rickshaw, but in these times, where could one find a rickshaw at night? If not on the main road, how would it be found here? Lockdown had imprisoned life. His home was a kilometer away. Now, standing there, he was thinking that a vo...

  Title: The Withered Blossom: : Sans had once bloomed, but now his steps faltered, burdened by weakness and the grip of exhaustion. When the struggle intensified, he had no choice but to pause. Taking even a single step became impossibility. He stumbled, and his belongings fell to the ground as he slipped from his back onto the earth. Yet, he paid it no mind. He sat there, letting moments pass as he revived his breath, wiped away the sweat, and relieved his fatigue. The question of picking up the fallen load seemed trivial now. His feet no longer bore the weight of his burden. He had distanced himself from the act of picking up. Now, the thought of getting up and going home lingered in his mind. However... "What to do with the belongings?" If only he had hired a rickshaw, but where would he find one in the quiet of the night? If not on the main road, how would he locate it here? Lockdown had confined life to limits, and his home was a kilometer away.  He was startl...

  Title: Father has Passed Away. How will all this happen? : Ashraf expressed his concern, "We need to arrange for the shroud, buy a burial plot, and organize meals for the guests. Then there's the cost of reciting the Quran and the seven-day memorial..." Munir seemed to forget to breathe. Hameed exclaimed, "What if we had given a few thousand rupees to Dad? He asked for medicine, not for indulgence..." The elder brother got agitated and said, "Stop giving lectures and tell us what will happen now. After all, worldly responsibilities have to be fulfilled." All the younger brothers, suggesting solutions, spoke together, "What will happen?... We'll manage. The work was getting done with just two thousand before; now we may have to pay twenty thousand per head. In the end, we also have to maintain our reputation." Upon hearing the younger one's words, they all started calculating their shares. And the soul of the father ...

Title:  An Incomplete Story: : He squeezed the paper with the composed texts into the fire and said: " He pressed the paper with the burning letters in his hand, confused and sad." The Incomplete Story "  he idea of the page has not found that it is anywhere near twenty years of age. It was a tale he had written on paper, and before he could even give it a title, some other story had overshadowed it. Then it got lost amidst piles of papers to the point that it was erased from memory. Twenty years later, one day, as he touched the pen, instead of being happy, he burst into tears. How poignant was this story to his life! Someone had also forgotten him, just as he had forgotten it. Was it forsaken or was it abandoned after being held close? His heart desired some sort of compensation. His sensitive nature couldn't bear any injustice or excess committed against anyone. But the issue was that the story only had a title written down. The plot of the story was reco...

  Title: Forgotten. : Whenever I remember, pearls of tears shimmer in my eyes. A few days before his demise, my father was brought to Dadi Amma's room, semi-conscious, as cancer had consumed him. At that moment, he was in a state of half-consciousness, lifted and brought in. I saw his body, reduced to less than a third of its original self. Cancer and chemotherapy had devoured the rest. Reaching out, I searched for my mother's lap and laid my head there. For some reason, it felt like I had become a child again. When my elder brother said, "Abu, let me take you to your room," I restrained him, repeatedly saying, "Wait, stop, hold on." When my brother insisted, an incoherent utterance escaped my mouth, "Amma... Amma," as if I were calling out to my mother for help. I wanted no one to take him away from there. Perhaps, in the final moments of my life, I wished to share them with my mother. Dadi Amma's condition was such that she ...

  Title: His Longing Persisted: : He lamented that he could never use anything new, from books to clothes, and from caps to shoes. From mufflers to jerseys, everything came to him second-hand, and he continued to endure patiently. In his heart, there was only one desire – which someday, something new would also come into his life. After completing his education, he found a job, but it was also a second-hand position – a clerk's job in place of his father. When he matured, a girl entered his life, and he wanted to marry her. However, when he discovered that she had a history with another guy, he let her go. Besides, his family was not pleased with this relationship. They had already chosen a girl for him – a girl who had previously been the wife of his deceased brother. Then his sister-in-law entered his life with her two children. There was no issue for him with the girl, but she brought her late husband's children into his life.   (The end