Previously known as Querencia.
Poets, as often as they say, they said the truth. Love cannot be controlled or planned. It comes like rain on a sunny day; an unseasoned downpour. Like a gust of harsh wind on a heated day. It comes with a painful epi...
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SALT AIR WHISPERS — Listen closely to the sound of air, the salt air is whispering something.
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She had known no grief stronger than losing oneself. She knew what it can do, to what length it can drive someone. She had driven it all. She had driven it until there was nothing more left to lose. *** Pashmina, a twenty-four-year-old woman with brunette hair, now living in Abbottabad after the tragic death of her parents. She had known life as bleak and had lost all hope of ever finding anything good or happy enough to make her forget her sadness. To her, the existence of herself felt irrelevant. She is a writer and a painter. Although she hadn't touched paints in a long time.
Mir Zalaan Ashraf Malik was a man many found themselves falling for. His looks, his wealth, and his respect were enough for many to readily give their daughters to him. Despite having it all, he longed for someone who would love him for who he is. Not the money attached to him. Someone who would accept the responsibility his brother left on his shoulders. *** "Do we ever truly become happy? Or are we always the passerby of happiness?"
"We do and then we don't. Happiness is fleeting just like everything else". *** Would they be able to find their saving grace, their hope? Would their miseries finally cease? Or is it hard for life to see them happy? Read to know more about it.
