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Mohsin Rizvi

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022

Stories (9)

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10 Followers

39 Following

9 Stories

124 karma pts

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The Silence Between Walls

Mohsin Rizvi

Submitted to Contest #319

This account was shared with me by my two aunts—both sisters of my late mother—and is based on actual events that occurred in Hyderabad Province, Sindh, Pakistan. The narrative describes the experiences of my mother's family as they sought a new residence. During this period, discussions at family gatherings often referenced an atmosphere marked by anticipation and the practical challenges of accommodating a growing household.wait for long. In the days that followed, the house seemed to grow quieter, yet the silence bore an edge that none o...

2 likes

THE LISTENING SPHERE

Mohsin Rizvi

Submitted to Contest #317

The first calls came in just before two in the morning. Residents near the old limestone quarry on Fifth Line reported an otherworldly hum that seemed to vibrate through drywall and bone, and a hard, bluish light that turned the August night into a scene from midwinter. Frost formed in the grass along the roadside as Detective Sergeant A. R. Kavanagh stepped from his unmarked car, and his breath hung in front of him like smoke. He’d worked scenes in every season; the air shouldn’t bite like this in late summer. It bit anyway. The gates were ...

2 likes

Days of Glory: The Road to Al Hilal

Mohsin Rizvi

Submitted to Contest #314

CW: May contain racially sensitive language. As the title suggests, this journey recounts when I began to believe that I could make a difference in Soccer. It took some years of course, some ugly attitude and tackling by the Riyadh Bedouins, and harassment by the locals and some others.(I cannot explain who I don’t want to remember) As I used to play with the Saudi boys across the street, I enjoyed playing with them, as I was only 9, they were all tall lads, and they used to easily trick me. Their English was poor, and it was very difficult ...

7 likes

The Big Bull and the Billion-Dollar Mirage

Mohsin Rizvi

Submitted to Contest #311

In the bustling heart of Mumbai during the late 1980s, a man rose from modest beginnings to claim a throne on Dalal Street—the financial capital of India. Born in 1950s in a lower-middle-class Gujarati family, this person was no stranger to hardship. He took odd jobs before finding his calling in finance. He joined a local organization, but his target was something else. He loved the terms bullish & bearish, the Stock Market. Armed with ambition and a deep understanding of market behavior, he joined a brokerage firm. But Harshad was no o...

18 likes

Hysteria

Mohsin Rizvi

Submitted to Contest #310

Deputy Superitendent of Police Aurangzeb Khan was returning home with his entire family. His only son was driving the SUV. He was quite hopeful for his future as he was good in his studies. As they approached home, he changed, all of a sudden he heard a Gunshot. As he came out from the house, he saw his only Son Shahzeb was bleeding aqnd was in terrible pain.His daughter was yelling "Somebody help, as she saw her father going unconscious after witnessing that his son has loat his life. ALL OVER THE NEWS Shahzeb Khan, the 20-year-old son of ...

13 likes

THE BLUE ROOM

Mohsin Rizvi

"The Blue Room" The blue room had not changed in seventeen years. It still smelled faintly of jasmine and talcum powder, like it had when Zahra used to sit by the window, writing letters she never sent. The curtains—sun-bleached and threadbare—still fluttered like ghostly wings whenever the wind crept in. And the record player in the corner, long silent, was gathering dust under the weight of unwound melodies. Ayaan stood in the doorway, fingers brushing the chipped wooden frame. He hadn’t been back to his ancestral home in Kolkata since his...

1 like

The Ghost Ledger: The Rise and Fall of The Giant Finance Hub

Mohsin Rizvi

Submitted to Contest #307

Prologue: The Bank That Wasn’tIn the winter of 1972, a man with elegant Urdu and impeccable English walked into a palatial office in London. He carried no weapon, no briefcase—only a vision. Within months, that vision would evolve into The Inst., a financial labyrinth that didn’t just hold money—it held influence, and more than that, secrets. It operated not from one headquarters, but from many shadows.From Panama to Karachi, London to Lagos, The Inst. embedded itself like a ghost into the arteries of global finance. It lent to rulers withou...

4 likes

Persona non greta

Mohsin Rizvi

Submitted to Contest #307

I was born in a big and populous city of South Asia. When I turned seven, my father , working for a local bank got promoted and he got transfered to KSA. As a result we all moved to Kingdom of Saudi Arabia We all left for Riyadh, as my father was already there, he came to receive all four of us (mother, two sisters and my self. As we came out, we were amazed to see the luxurious cars, lights (it appeared that it’s morning time even though we arrived around 7 pm). It’s a beautiful city , I have no words for it, it was very hot I cannot descri...

11 likes

Would You Sell Your Extra Kidney?

Mohsin Rizvi

Each year thousands die because there aren’t enough organs for transplants, and I may be one of them. It’s time to start compensating donors. WHEN WE WERE teenagers, my brother and I received kidney transplants six days apart. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. He, two years older, was scheduled to receive my dad’s kidney in April of 1998. Twenty-four hours before the surgery, the transplant team performed its final blood panel and discovered a tissue incompatibility that all the previous testing had somehow missed. My brother was pus...

1 like