The Narratives – Mohamed Miah

marriage

  • The Legacy of Opium and the West’s Dark Reflection

    In modern times, a lot is said about global terrorism, drug trafficking, and corruption, yet few people, especially those in the West, connect these narratives to their true origins: the centuries-long history of colonial exploitation.  While opium is often associated with Afghanistan, the truth is that the West’s involvement in the opium trade—and its broader

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  • Fragments of Her

    I Jiya tugged at the handle of her wardrobe, staring blankly at the array of perfectly arranged clothes. Each item had its place, each fold meticulous—just like her mother taught her. She closed the door and sighed, feeling the familiar weight of anxiety settle in her chest. Every morning began like this—a routine that felt

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  • The Global Epidemic of Jealousy

    By Mohamed Miah In a world constantly driven by competition, one emotion quietly yet persistently thrives beneath the surface—jealousy. Once a hidden force, jealousy has become an increasingly visible and destructive part of society. From schools to corporate offices, the race to be “number one” has created a toxic culture, and now, in the age

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  • The Hidden Codes That Shape Us: How Gender Influences Our Behavioural Patterns

    By Mohamed Miah In every interaction, I find myself unconsciously analysing people. Not to judge or critique, but to better understand the often unseen forces driving human behavior. Through years of observation, lived experience, and reflections grounded in faith and history, I’ve come to believe that human beings—men and women—are subtly “coded” to act in

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  • The Binding Silence

    Chapter 1: The Weight of Secrets Anwar couldn’t shake the feeling that the walls of his house were closing in on him. Every room seemed too small, too suffocating. He stared down at the earphones resting on his desk, their sleek design hiding a dangerous secret. His thumb hovered over the call button on his

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  • Oh No She Didn’t

    Rahul’s house sat nestled in a quiet, tree-lined avenue in East London, a classic terraced house with a charm that spoke of history. The red-bricked façade was neatly kept, with tall, slender trees casting dappled shadows over the front steps. Inside, the house was clean and tidy, a reflection of his mother’s meticulous nature, but

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