“Ignite the passion to educate the masses in your hearts”: Mahnoor Naseer – Editor-in-Chief, Daastan.



Sonia Mukhtar: “When my imagination envelopes me, unknown characters become alive!”

My favourite person got interviewed ❤


“When you write, reflect who you are. This is the respect we should give to our writing” says Sonia Mukhtar, an author, and a practicing Counseling Psychologist.

IMG_20171215_2042421. Tell us about yourself?
I do believe in operational definitions and that if we can define ourselves, we might be able to get on the journey of ‘know thyself’. I am a practicing Counseling Psychologist by profession and by person I am a disciple of minimalism and functionalism in body and soul. I am a practitioner of mindfulness with meditation especially sketching, Yoga and Gyan Mudra. I am a motivational trainer usually conducting workshops and in groups. I am a debater and a writer of essays, poems, short stories, novels. I believe in climate change and nature taking its course. Nature offers serenity to me: greenery of forest, blueness of sky and water, darkness of mountains and airiness of breeze freely touching…

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Maham Syedain and Arooha Arif: They write from the heart!


Maham Syedain clinched the Silver Prize while Arooha Arif secured the Bronze Prize at the short story writing competition conducted by US Magazine of The News.
MOI Writes talks to these two amazing writers in this exclusive interview!

“Writing is not just something I am fond of, but something that I believe resides within me as an instinct”,says Maham Syedain

“I do not find the inner peace to write. I just write. Peace itself finds its way in my mind and heart”, says Arooha Arif.

Arooha Arif (Left). Maham Syedain (Right)

1. Tell us about yourself?

Maham Syedain: This is Maham Syedain. I am a 23-year old student studying Clinical Psychology, from the University of Karachi. Besides studying Psychology, I am a passionate writer, poet and an avid reader, who has written and contributed ample amount of literary pieces to different literary magazines/e-magazines. I am a regular reader…

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My Forlorn Dream


If I close my eyes,
And think of you,
Will you,
Come visit my dreams forever?
The promise of You and I,
That I made to myself,
Will you help me fulfil?
I won’t ask you to stop
For a long while,
Just in the minute instances
When I sit at my corner table,
Near the window —
My pale face bathed by the Moonlight —
Sipping a warm cup of tea
And a book in hand,
The moments when
I lose the sense of the real world,
Explore the possibilities that
Could connect me to you,
Can you be with me in those?
If I plead you to
Come out of my book of dreams
Will you?
For once,
Stand real, in front of me?
So that I could touch you,
Like a blind person
Trying to outline the features of someone —
To learn and memorise them,
Will you allow me to touch you?
To touch my forlorn dream,
Yes, forlorn;
Because people say
I am a lunatic –
A psychopath,
Wishing upon
Static stars.
What do you think?
Am I an Imbecile
Or the world?
Who wishes upon the broken stars,
Destined to meet the dust
And not reach the skies.
For once step outside my dreams,
To show the world
How my static stars yield,
Just live for a night
And return me my sanity.
And then go back or stay,
As you wish,
But if you do choose to leave,
Then take with you my hollow dreams.

©Mahnoor Naseer


WhatsApp Image 2017-09-27 at 10.55.46 PM

Thought to just sit down
And write how you were
How you looked like?
How those eyes smiled?

You know what
Today, I did and realised
I am forgetting it,
All of it.

Your tanned Asian face,
Your handsome hunk smirk,
Your long lashes,
And dark hair.

I cant picture anymore,
Memories have blurred now,
Maybe because I am getting old.

I don’t remember,
Your smell,
Your warmth,
Your Voice.

Do you remember,
The first day I held you in my arms?
You cooed, maybe?
Because I don’t.

I bled red then,
You lived,
I bleed grey now,
You are no more.

I am forgetting my child,
When tears drop down my eyes
And run through my calloused hands,
I see a face —

A tanned Asian face,
A handsome hunk smirk,
Long lashes and dark hair —
Whose? I don’t know.

I see the gravestone in my yard,
And try to memorise that name,
But can’t,
It’s difficult to remember.

Whose grave it is?
Why it is here?
Maybe, it’s not my house,
Maybe, I am lost.

I am just old
and forgetful.


©Mahnoor Naseer

An Unbreakable Vow

WhatsApp Image 2017-09-17 at 6.59.43 PM

Picture Credits: Uzair Munir


“You take a step back from me, and I promise you, I will turn into someone you never knew. Someone you can never recognise.”

I promised you this, then you took that step and honey, here I am, there you are; messed up in your thoughts, thinking what has become of me — a demon, a stranger or a pointed shard of glass?

You are searching for the person who cared for you, you deny it, but I know you do and it is driving you mad because every path now leads you to a dead end. Why don’t you stop?

Because you think of the same me – vulnerable me – who can fall a prey to your cheesy tricks, but oh no! I won’t, not this time, never again. Why?

Because I promised you;

“Take a step away from me, and I will step miles away from you, miles that end at infinity.”

And Infinity, do you think it has an end?


Mahnoor Naseer



You wished for a different me,

Hence, I became:

The darkness you never witnessed,

The storms you failed to stand,

The moon you can never touch,

The stallion you can never ride.

I became a rainbow – Seven of colors,

Bright as sun,

Complete –

The one your sight can never see.

I became what

you never can be.

You were you,

I was me,

Never seeing

The moonbeam’s glow.

So set I was

on my own path,

Never looking

where you might tread.

So sure I was

to scale the Heavens

never seeing,

The angel by my side.

©® Mahnoor Naseer and Brian L. Hayes