U. Quill

    The month so holy, so sacred, so divine: wherein shackled is the Satan, wherein men are released from hell, wherein God’s Word echoes, wherein sins are forgiven, rewards multiplied, mankind falls prostrate, man turns to the supreme Lord alone: is come this day. Shunned in this month are the desires of food and drink, so every man ponders the poor’s plight, comprehends God’s blessings. This is, esteemed reader, a month of repentance and rewards. This is the month of the Holy Book, this is the month of forgiveness, this is the month of God’s mercy, this is the month of forbearance and patience, this is the month of love, this is the month of generosity, this is the month of fast, this is the month of unwavering dedication and devotion to the worship of The One God. And so, it comes to be, that this month is regarded as a blessing of the Almighty; and in what sense is it not?  May the God of Man, the Lord of the Worlds, grant us forgiveness and rewards this Ramad...

  Ah, Kuwait! A land of sparkling sands and overflowing coffers, where the spirit of generosity flows as freely as the waters of the Gulf. A tale I shall spin for you, cherished reader, of benevolence and bounty, a chronicle of compassion that would warm the cockles of even the flintiest heart. Bring to mind, if you will, a nation small in stature yet grand in spirit, where the echoes of ancient Arabian hospitality mingle with the hum of modern prosperity.   Here, amidst the date palms and the gleaming towers, the act of giving is not merely a virtue, but a sacred duty, woven into the very fabric of Kuwaiti life. From the humblest camel herder to the most opulent merchant prince, the call to charity echoes deep within.   It ain’t just the zakat, the obligatory alms, though those are given with a cheerful heart, but the sadaqah, the spontaneous acts of kindness, that truly reveal the boundless compassion within.   And when the holy month of Ramadan descends, like ...

 A thick smog hung in heavy air, as it enshrouded the city in hazy gloom. Sunlight struggled to break through, casting eerie shadows that danced across the grimy, pollution-stained streets. The city had turned into a massive car park, its streets congested with vehicles. A cacophony of horns assaulted the senses. Along the sidewalks, pedestrians hurried, their faces masked against the thick choking air. This city, once so proud, was now a scene of obliteration, of pollution and devastation, of ruin bought upon it by its own progress. This insidious enemy, this serpent of pollution, which is now slowly attacking the Race of Man – an enemy born of humanity’s own progress and advancements – has reached its peak and will not allow humankind to live in peace.   The serpent of Deforestation slithers across the lands, its venomous fangs sinking deep, draining the green blood of life from the Earth. The forests wither and fall. But appears on this hopeless scene, a beacon of hope;...