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Al Hakimi53

surah e yusuf

Al hakimi 53 is a Dawoodi Bohra Blog. Here you will find all kind of Dua,Surah,Naat,Madeh,Maraasiy in Video & Audio Formats

For Example - Dua,Surah,Naat,Madeh,Maraasiya OR Dwoodi Bohra Prayer Stuff

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1. The Mountain

My mother said that out of all five of her children

I was the simplest baby

I think what she meant was that I hardly cried,

Rarely fussed

And was generally asleep

Which i assume was an honest thing, for her

As the fourth of 5 she had tons to affect before she could get to me

So I made it easier for her

I kept doing it as I grew up

If one among my siblings dropped their frozen dessert ,

I’d give them mine so they’d stop making a scene

When someone had to take a seat during a middle seat

You can bet that’s where my seat would be strapped

In fifth grade, when Clara Gomez stole my cookie from my lunch box

I just shrugged, and ate my carrot sticks

My nickname was “montañita”, little mountain

Because i used to be never moved, never bothered, always calm

In seventh grade, I broke my leg

But I didn’t tell anyone for 3 days

I just gritted my teeth and hopped along

Until my father found me crying on the toilet floor

He took me to the hospital, and purchased me a cast we couldn’t afford

And when the youngsters at college called me a cripple

Well, you'll guess what I did

In highschool , my sister Sofia was getting picked on by some boys

I pretended I didn’t see it happen

But that night, I switched out her too-small uniform skirt for mine

She stopped getting teased,

And I wore pants for the remainder of the year

When my college Algebra professor lost my test and made me retake it, I just nodded and did it

When I got catcalled walking across campus,

I just looked down at the bottom 

And you

The first day you came up to me and offered to shop for me coffee

I was sure you were making fun of me too

So I stayed quiet

Eventually, you flashed me that blinding smile and told me, “Guess I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

I think I said about three words to you that first day

But I gave you my number

And answered once you called

Read the story 

2. “The Flints of Memory Lane” by Neil Gaiman

The entire Neil Gaiman collection of short stories is basically well done. I can’t share the story here because it’s still copyrighted, so you’ll need to get the book to read it. This particular is my favorite of the gathering .

3. The Escaped Man

The rain was falling heavily. it had been like driving through a thick curtain of water. He eased off the accelerator a touch . Had to take care driving on wild nights like these.

The last item you’d want is to possess an accident or breakdown. you only want to be reception on these stormy nights. The thwack-thwack of the windscreen wipers was hypnotic.

He stared out into the glow of the headlights. The rain seemed like noise interference because it battered the car. He was reminded of the opening scenes of a Hitchcock film.

Through the wash of the rain he spotted a figure at the side of the road. The person wore a green parka and had their thumb jerked out.

Why on earth would anyone be hitchhiking tonight? Surely you'd just stay until the morning. they need to are during a rush to urge where they were going.

He signalled down and pulled over. The hitchhiker climbed in. He shut the door quickly, glad to be out of the rain. He pulled his hood back and sighed.

He was somewhere in his mid-twenties and had wild red hair and a thick beard.

‘Awful night, eh?’ said the driving force .

The hitchhiker held his gaze for an extended moment. Drops of rainwater trickled down his face.

‘Yes. Yes it is.’

The driver pulled out and continued through the storm. The hitcher glanced over his shoulder into the blackness behind them.

‘You okay?’

The hitcher simply nodded.

They drove on in silence for a brief while. The BBC radio phone in blaring out from the car’s speakers filled certain conversation.

They listened to the radio and their own thoughts as they moved on.

‘Where are you headed?’ asked the driving force .

‘North.’ The hitcher pointed.

‘Are you travelling to go to friends?’

‘Hmph.’

The driver couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no. He adjusted his tie nervously. The hitcher stared at him in his suit and tie.

The hitcher seemed scruffy as compared in his parka and Pink Floyd t-shirt.

‘Do you're employed around here?’ asked the hitcher.

‘Yes.’ said the driving force . ‘I was stuck late at the office. you recognize how it's .’

‘No. Not really.’

Again they drifted into silence.

The talk radio show carried on as they drove through the wind and rain. The hitcher shifted in his seat and stared out the windscreen.

‘No music?’ the hitcher asked.

‘What?’

‘Is there no music we could listen to?’

‘I just like the talk radio shows. I’m not really a music fan.’

The hitcher’s eyes glazed over for a flash . Then he spoke.

‘I like taking note of music. It calms me down.’

The driver said nothing.

Several miles later there was a information on the radio. The reporter tried to stay professional as she read the announcement.

‘We are becoming reports that a patient has escaped from a Manchester psychiatric institution. the person is claimed to be psychopathic and is claimed to possess a history of murder.’

The hitcher jabbed a finger on the button on the radio panel. Tinny pop blurted out from the speakers. the driving force stared at his passenger, his question unasked.

‘I hate the news.’ answered the hitcher. ‘It’s so depressing. It brings me down. there's never any excellent news , is there?’

The driver didn't reply.

‘Don’t worry. I’m not the killer.’ said the hitcher, twiddling with his coat.

‘No?’ said the driving force . ‘I mean, no, in fact you aren’t.’

Click here to ascertain how this story ends

4. The Dark Walk Home

Let me tell you the story of Lucy Spring. She wont to like it here. it had been so vibrant. So colorful. Things have changed. She left Mayview City two years ago, with no plans of ever returning. Death features a way of bringing people home.

She had hoped the familiar sidewalks would comfort her during a way the funeral visitors couldn’t. Instead, they made her uneasy. She features a long walk to her car, wit ha phone as dead as her brother .

Why hadn’t she called Bekki? She would have liked to listen to her voice. What Lucy is hearing now isn’t a voice. Lucy stops. The footsteps don’t.

Click here to ascertain how this ends! (Note: this story is illustrated and published on the Spellbound app. Just search for this story on the app)

5. “The Pig” by Roald Dahl

In England once there lived an enormous 

And wonderfully clever pig.

To everybody it had been plain

That Piggy had a huge brain.

He figured out sums inside his head,

There was no book he hadn’t read,

He knew what made an airplane fly,

He knew how engines worked and why.

He knew all this, but within the end

One question drove him around the bend:

He simply couldn’t figure out 

What LIFE was really all about.

What was the rationale for his birth?

Why was he placed upon this earth?

His giant brain went round and round.

Alas, no answer might be found,

Till suddenly one wondrous night,

All in a flash, he saw the sunshine .

He jumped up sort of a dancer 

And yelled, “By gum, I’ve got the answer!”

“They want my bacon slice by slice

“To sell at an incredible price!

“They want my tender juicy chops

“To put altogether the butchers’ shops!

“They want my pork to form a roast

“And that’s the part’ll cost the most!

“They want my sausages in strings!

“They even want my chitterlings!

“The butcher’s shop! The carving knife!

“That is that the reason for my life!”

Such thoughts as these aren't designed

To give a pig great peace of mind.

Read the whole poem/story here

6. Canon in D With A Side of Tomato Soup

Paul stared at his wife across the table, noticing for the primary time that her sweater was on inside out. Every morning he would lay out her clothes on the bed during a specific order, so she’d know which item to place on first. But it didn’t guarantee how Elaine would placed on each bit . He’d need to pay more attention before they went out.

Their usual waitress, Sarah, appeared, holding an outsized tray with two sweet teas thereon . “How y’all doin’ today?”

With Alzheimer’s disease, there have been good days, then there have been challenging days. it had been one among the latter. Elaine was preoccupied, scrubbing a stain on the wooden table together with her finger, forgetting it had been a permanent fixture of their booth. They’d been lunching at this diner once every week for years. That blemish had been there since day one.

“Today’s actually a really big day for us. It’s our fifty-seventh anniversary .” His wife stopped fidgeting and searched . “The day she took an opportunity on a broke, balding fellow by saying, ‘I do,’” he said with a wink in her direction.

“It is?” Elaine asked.

“Yep, sweetheart, it is.”

“Congratulations, you two! Ms. Sue restored a number of her lime pie today and I’ll confirm y’all have a slice on the house before you go. Stickin’ with the Cobb salad and tomato soup?”

“That’s it.” Paul replied.

She nodded and turned, then swung back around. “I just remembered. We ran out of tomato soup about an hour ago. Chicken noodle ok?”

Paul checked out his wife, now scrubbing away at the stain with a napkin.

“Elaine?”

“Hmmm,” she said, again focused on the table.

“They’re out of the tomato soup. does one want chicken noodle? Or a sandwich instead?” She looked confused, so he pointed to the menu and showed her a couple of other items he thought she’d enjoy, but she was having a tough time picking something new.

Suddenly she began to cry. “I want to travel home. Please can we go home?” she begged.

Read the complete romance