Doraha

Doraha

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing1h 13m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jun 7, 2026
Meerab wakes up without a shred of memory. All she has is a devastatingly handsome husband. Powerful, protective and devoted, Murtasim is everything a woman can deam of in a husband. She gets closer and closer till she's enamoured. Enthralled. Ensnared. But the closer you get to the devil, the harder it is to run.
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Dastaan

The desert heat of the 1960s Sindh province wrapped around Murtasim Khan like a second skin, a constant reminder of the unforgiving land that had bred him. His eyes, a piercing shade of brown, surveyed the horizon from atop his steadfast steed, as the beast's rhythmic breathing synced with the pulse of the parched earth beneath them. Murtasim's sharp features, carved by the relentless sun and a life of hardship, bore witness to countless battles and the weight of his people's hope. His lean, muscular frame was a canvas of dust and sweat, a silent declaration of his unwavering allegiance to the Shehsawar-e-Azadi, the rebels who called the desolate valleys their home. The valley sprawled below them, a stark contrast to the opulent palaces of the nawabs that dotted the landscape like gleaming jewels amidst the desert's poverty. His thoughts drifted to Meerab, the ethereal beauty whose name alone could stir the hearts of men and whose fate was bound to the very fabric of their feud. Engaged to Shahzeb, the union was a strategic move by her father, Altaf Ahmed, to strengthen the chains of oppression that held the peasants in check. What will happen when the paths of Murtasim, the fiery rebel, and Meerab, the jewel of the oppressive Nawab family, cross?

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