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Stories by wasaka bari shah
The glass street
It began with a whisper and the gleam of something unreal.
A street made of frozen light, hidden behind bedti...
To be lost is to be held
We are fragments of each other, scattered through time and place. Lost, yet guided. This journey isn't about...
Of knots , mirrors and empty bags
A lyrical reflection on faith, flaws, and the fragile knots we tie to hold ourselves together.
This is not a...