Deepthoughts Stories

I can't stop my imagination after Rehman' s death , I don't want to suffer alone so I wrote this for u to suffer with me 😫. This story does not promote any terrorists, their names are used as a character in this story . This story contains original lyrics of songs - par channa de, sanu nehr wale pul and lambi judai .

These chapters are moments based on the songs the author has imagined them in. These are pieces of love and longing based on the mood of the song.

My old poems and quotes. Currently editing. Finished (2021)

Rehman and Ulfat's love was never ordinary. In the narrow streets of Lyari, it burned fierce and loud. Life tried to tear them apart, but even death could not silence what was written in their souls. Nineteen years after their wedding, Rehman and Ulfat stand at the crossroads of memory and reality. This is Ruh-e-Ulfat, a story of love, loss, and souls intertwined, where fire and calm, chaos and silence, exist together in a bond that death cannot undo. رحمان و الفت

|| GRAND FAVORITE AMBYS 2025 || || SHORTLIST SHORTYS 2025 || [19x 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒🏅] The word 'Terra' refers to the land of Earth, while 'Humana' stands for Humanity. Together, 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚 becomes a collection where the aching force of nature mirrors humanistic sentiments. The collection aims to trace all the delicate scars and symphonic tensions―from the smallest shimmer of pearl-like drizzle to the grandest mountain's grief. Each poem is a pause, a break, a breath to feel nature's breathtaking tapestry, woven with intense healing capabilities. Here, soil meets soul and roots tangle with reason! As you walk through this terrain―of auroras, dawns, and obnoxious ocean's orchestra―I hope you feel not just my words, but also the loud quiet between them―the silent meanings and interpretations. Crafted with a pen dipped in perseverance, '𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚' indulges in the serene and destructing sentiments of nature. From the broken to the healing. It is, perhaps, my most intimate attempt at writing. As you have decided to walk through this humanistic terrain, may its verses speak to the part of you that still feels wind whispers magic! · · ── ·☽◯☾· ── · · Copyright © [2025] [Aatishi Ravira] All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. · · ── ·☽◯☾· ── · · #12 in 'Poetry' out of 308K Books #10 in 'Poetry Collection' out of 39.4K Books #1 in 'Wattpad Poetry' out of 1.5K books

He was trained to lie. She was never meant to question. Hamza lives behind a carefully crafted identity - a spy bound by duty, secrets, and a past he can never reveal. Love was never part of the mission... until Yalina. She trusts him without hesitation, loving him for who she believes he is, unaware that every moment they share is shadowed by truth he cannot confess. As his world of deception collides with her unwavering faith, Hamza must choose between the life he was assigned and the love he never expected. حمزہ و یالینا

Sometimes, when the night is quiet enough, we can still feel it. Like a memory knocking softly, asking if we can still remember everything inside our dreams. The fragments. The quiet thoughts. Even the adventurous wonders. We linger in them, hoping our dreams will lead us somewhere enchanting. We dream. We imagine. We wander into the great abyss-getting lost inside our own Dreamland. The stories we are meant to hold are meant to be written. Each one carries its own tale, its own chapter. And as a dreamer longing to remember, I wrote this for you- to immerse yourself, and to join me inside my dream.

I gave flowers to see who would water them. This is not a collection. It is a realisation. Not because I was naïve. Not because I didn't understand how the world works. But because I wanted to believe that care could be mutual. These poems are for the ones who loved gently but never blindly. For those who offered warmth without being asked twice. For those who expected softness-and slowly learned who was capable of giving it. Between fragrance and silence, between hope and awareness, these pages hold the quiet shift from giving endlessly to choosing intentionally. There are flowers here. There is dignity. There is the ache of almost. And the strength of walking away without turning cold. Because sometimes the real heartbreak is not that love failed- but that you finally saw it clearly. And still chose to remain soft.

Thoughts that have been quiet for too long that they forced themselves out ... If you ever felt unheard , unseen , misunderstood.. this is for you as much as it is for me <3

Here you will find fantasy poems, poetic short stories, and fragments of myth. Some were written in the quiet spaces between my novels. Some are echoes of worlds not yet born. And some were written in the early stages of creating Of Demons and Men, so you may get to know some characters in a different way. I just thought it would be fun to go though my old files and see what I think still carries weight. I hope you enjoy as I share them!

If my collection inspires even one person, it would make me delighted knowing that it made a difference. I always had a thing for nice quotes. I used to write them even at a young age. Whenever I see a nice line - be it from a book, celebrity or some other unpopular sources, I feel amazed by them, and then lately, I started writing them down somewhere so as not to forget. Now and then a beautiful line would just pop in my mind, and if I don't have the means to write immediately, I would just try to memorize until I put it down. I write quotes anywhere, if I think that I am going to forget. They are just scattered in places so much so that I feel the urge to bring them together. What's better than to bind them in a book? P.S. except the quotes that are from revealations, i.e. the Qur'an and Sunnah, there are always room for errors in human opinions, so I recommend the readers to use their own sense of judgment as well.

For all the people who didn't feel loved or hate themselves.

My late night muse; everyday muse ; People, things, feelings, colors that have inspired me in everywhich way.

Address unknown. Recipient unreachable. Unwritten Letters is a haunting anthology of 'almosts.' It is the poetry of the unsent text, the swallowed heartaches, the questions that have no answers to and the love that was too big for the wrong person. A visceral reminder that sometimes the most important things we say are the ones we say to the ghosts of people who are still alive.

These are just some random ideas I get once in a while. so basically just food for thought. ;D ps, please vote and comment on chapters you like

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐢𝐭; 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝- 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐫-𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦-𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲-𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲? 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨." -------------- I have been stealing stars and descending into derived madness; it is to satisfy the parasite within me. These poems are all for them: to relieve the aching, to stop the itching. In this way, I hope to stay a little bit longer and touch the hearts of people feeling the same way.

Thoughts of YVEA the pain she hide

Feel free to relate to the poems. You're welcome.

My fourth collection of self-written poems. Exploring the deep and dark abyss of my mind ☆☆☆ Started: 10 July 2025 Concluded: