I won't say much, it's brilliant as usual. I am wondering about your choices of names, I like to think writers don't do it randomly, I like it to be symbolic even if I don't understand due to different cultures and all that. Tell me about her name?!!!
Thank you so much, Sally. I’m really glad you connected with it. You’re right, the name isn’t random. Shamshaad means “boxwood tree,” something evergreen and quietly resilient. It felt right for her journey, a metaphor for a natural grace that doesn’t demand attention but endures quietly.
The ending shook me, “I’m glad you came.” It’s not just a line, it’s a quiet celebration of finding the love we’ve been searching for all along, the love that lives within us. Every word before it builds the storm, the rain, the doubts… and this line lets the soul finally exhale. Truly unforgettable.
I really appreciate you taking the time to read and share your thoughts. “What’s wrong with me?” is a retrospective question we often ask ourselves when faced with rejection.
This was such a tender, rain-soaked piece, Tahir~ it lingers softly after reading. I love how the monsoon becomes both voice and mirror, wrapping her in that quiet realization that the love she’s been waiting for was always her own. It feels like healing written in rainlight...
Thank you so much, Asuka, for this beautiful reflection. I’m really touched by how you’ve read it. “Healing written in rainlight” is such a lovely way to put it.
I won't say much, it's brilliant as usual. I am wondering about your choices of names, I like to think writers don't do it randomly, I like it to be symbolic even if I don't understand due to different cultures and all that. Tell me about her name?!!!
Thank you so much, Sally. I’m really glad you connected with it. You’re right, the name isn’t random. Shamshaad means “boxwood tree,” something evergreen and quietly resilient. It felt right for her journey, a metaphor for a natural grace that doesn’t demand attention but endures quietly.
TAHIR.... DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT A GIFT YOU ARE? This is breathtaking. Please write a book.
Thank you so much. Your words truly mean a lot. I’ll definitely keep a book in my future plans.
Fr!
This piece captures the emotion and self doubt and confusion and then the pure wonderment of a soft realisation. The love was always there.
A quiet breath after a lifetime of holding on.
Thank you so much Tony, you captured the essence so perfectly. I truly appreciate your words.
The ending shook me, “I’m glad you came.” It’s not just a line, it’s a quiet celebration of finding the love we’ve been searching for all along, the love that lives within us. Every word before it builds the storm, the rain, the doubts… and this line lets the soul finally exhale. Truly unforgettable.
You described it so beautifully, the storm, the rain, the exhale. It means a lot that you felt it so deeply.
This line was so gentle yet devastating:
But even it stayed silent when she whispered,
“What’s wrong with me?”
Loved this piece thank you for sharing.
I really appreciate you taking the time to read and share your thoughts. “What’s wrong with me?” is a retrospective question we often ask ourselves when faced with rejection.
Yes. And usually it isn’t the person who got rejected that the problem lies with.
Yes, so true. Rejection often makes us doubt ourselves, even though the issue usually lies elsewhere.
❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you, Mahmoud.
This was such a tender, rain-soaked piece, Tahir~ it lingers softly after reading. I love how the monsoon becomes both voice and mirror, wrapping her in that quiet realization that the love she’s been waiting for was always her own. It feels like healing written in rainlight...
Thank you so much, Asuka, for this beautiful reflection. I’m really touched by how you’ve read it. “Healing written in rainlight” is such a lovely way to put it.
The pleasure is shared~
As always, Tahir! Love it!💖
Thank you so much! I really appreciate your kindness and support.
You're welcome!💖^_^