Aisha Khan

“A Dark Mauve Night under a Thousand Stars” by Aisha Khan

“So there’s this man” the heavy-bearded man straightened.  “If he is even half as grumpy as you, then I don’t want to hear it” his clean-shaved but mustached friend frowned. “Relax” the bearded man grinned, “He’s nothing like me!” “How so?” “He’s rich, has three estates to his name, lives on the biggest one, and has a missing granddaughter.” “Interesting,” the mustached man said, “Save for the missing granddaughter.” The bearded man frowned in response, “That’s more interesting than the wealth.” “Not for me it is!” “What’s money really?...

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“Musical Chairs” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #102

“The Wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round. Round and Round!”Nearly eight years of ongoing childhood, and yet Naema had never heard of this rhyme before. But the song was the least of the children’s concerns, and a girl behind Naema poked her from behind whilst the rest of the line kept moving forwards. Moving was, however, an understatement for how fast the little feet were going. The children were deep in concentration, but the adults cheerfully deafened the music with cheers and claps. Naema would later recall that the adu...

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“Good Night” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #99

Saman still didn't know Asad, but there must've been some good in him for him to scavenge and unearth someone who could help her. That's how they ended up in a four-person, Honda BR-V car to the North. Most people would have gone road tripping solely to escape the merciless summer heat in Punjab, but they were not like most people, even if it was June currently. Even Asad's friend who had arranged the lodge booking in the hill station assumed they were heading for their honeymoon. Asad didn't correct him. Neither Asad nor Saman liked the sum...

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“Someone you meet in a Book” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #91

Dust sheeting on shelves, spines that are more wrinkled than strong, a yellow light that blinks every few minutes, a roaring stench of dead insects, and wood that creaks no matter how weightless I make my steps. All these accumulate inside the worst library I’ve ever stepped in. Although to be fair, I’ve never been inside that many libraries; I never had an innate affection for the written word, to begin with. But something about this eerie place lights up a spark in my sister’s eyes. I sigh, thinking about all the times in the past when I...

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“The Dream” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #89

James led the officers down the makeshift ladder. He could hear two of them grunting, but Officer Edison followed with a solemn vibe. There was a stench inside the tunnel, but James felt a little grateful because it didn’t make him nauseous again. The officers seemed fine too. Or maybe, he was thinking, the officers were used to worse occurrences than this. The only luminosity in the pitch blackness of the tunnel came from the officer’s flashlights; the few on the back were scanning the walls and the back end, but Edison kept his flashlight...

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“Sohni” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #83

Note: This story references the Punjabi folktale of 'Sohni Mahiwal' Water was gushing from side to side. Amira flapped her arms about. She tried to scream, but the salty water was choking her. She felt it in her mouth, her nose, and her ears. It was seeping inside her little bathing suit. She wailed, but only bubbles released. She tried to stand, but her plump, tiny legs could not feel the sand. The waves were tossing and turning her about. Sohni couldn’t swim. The pot split in her hands leaving behind just soft pieces of clay pushed ab...

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“A Siesta in the Castle” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #81

Grass tips were poking him but he stayed still, lying on his back and his half-empty bag substituting a pillow. It had been a while since he had a good rest, but that was just him being dramatic. The sun was sharp, and moistness was covering him. He was sweating but didn’t budge once. “Hey!” a voice roared. He finally opened his eyes to look at the intruder. It was a female. For a second, neither of them said anything and locked in an undeclared staring contest. Her hand was raised to her forehead, but the sunlight still made her cower. He ...

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“The Mango Thieves” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #79

“Mangoes are to us what Chocolate is to the Belgians!” Hashir announced to whoever would listen. And everyone present in the room did listen, save for the children who were engaged in playtime in the other half of the room. “I’m sure the Belgians aren’t the only ones who enjoy chocolate!” his cousin retorted in response. “It’s not a fair argument” his uncle spoke, “They can enjoy chocolate any time they want and we have to wait a whole year.” Everybody laughed in a synchronized agreement. The children continued to play and shout, their soun...

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“Amber's Room” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #78

Amber tossed the phone to the bed. She marched and swung open the wardrobe door. The resulting cold air tickled her neck. She wondered if there was a word for that cold air while dragging an aimless hand from hanger to hanger. Where was her green suit she wondered? Maybe it was in the store; that’s where all her fancy and pricey clothes were usually sentenced to. Since September marked the beginning of the wedding season, the clothes were now going to come out on parole. A neighbor was getting married. Any minute now, Amber’s mother wo...

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“The Red Door” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #77

It was ironic, that a door which was intended to attract as minimal attention as possible was painted a vibrant red color. I thought it was funny too when my employer first told me to simply ignore the door when I came to work. I mustered the courage to ask her, “Why did you paint it red?” She smiled, “Because it’s a warning color.” Obviously, I wasn’t convinced. But some of the other staff who came to the library behaved as though they were. They had to be, because they had satiated their curiosities by simply engineering stories of what c...

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“I Thought I Was Alone” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #77

Where I come from, cooking is considered a noteworthy skill; it doesn’t matter whether you’re a professional or simply a dilettante. Even in my family, every member had at least one dish they had perfected. So much so that it became synonymous with their name. My father was the most creative person I knew; he was the only person in my six-member family who dared to cook his signature dish atypical to everyone else’s. In plain words, his dish was a pot of stewed mutton and potatoes, but its preparation was a departure from our home’s cultural...

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“The Mysterious Peacock’s Haven” by Aisha Khan

Submitted to Contest #75

The hotel was called ‘Peacock’s Haven’, which was bewildering for some because it was nowhere near the light Indian plains that peacocks are known to nest in. Instead, this dwelling stood over the cliff that looked out to an open beach in the northern areas. With acres of grass and marsh outstretching from either side, the ‘Haven’ stood remote on the cliff. It was a small pretty building, with white-washed exteriors, irons railed balconies, and potted plants were strewn about. The most distinct feature was the roofs which were tiled with ric...

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