“That was my favorite ring. How could I be so careless?” Samra Apa sniffed away a tear. Mama gently stroked Samra Apa’s head, which was
It was a lazy Sunday. I was still in bed. My bedroom looked like a battle ground: clothes on the floor, games and books strewn
O PHARAOHS OF OUR TIME BY KIRAN SHAH Is this how you want your stories told, O Pharaohs of our
“Oh, come on! Don’t be so secretive. After all, I am your brother. Tell me, how will you solve this problem?” pleaded Ali with Samra
Ali and Omar were racking their brains for their upcoming exams. They flipped and skimmed through the pages of their Urdu textbook, groaning and moaning.
“‘Why can’t girls be strong and smart?” asked Hannah, innocently. Samrah Apa’s face turned red; however, being older and more sensible, she stopped herself from
“I want to sleep!” whined Ali, digging deeper into his soft dark blue comforter. “It’s Fajr. You have already missed the Jamaat. Now rise and
“You were born to whine and whimper!” Saad pulled a face and laughed out loud at Sarah. Sarah turned crimson red and dignifiedly replied to
Samra Apa was busy re-arranging her bedroom furniture. There were tall stacks of books scattered around. All the closet doors were wide open. She was
“Aiiieeeee….!” came a screaming noise from the stairs, as Ali came rolling down like a ball. Everyone ran to see what had happened. Ali was
