U. Quill

  Anger, revenge, jealousy! Those forces of destruction, relentlessly waging war against peace, corroding the soul, erasing virtue and leaving love in ashes. Beware, brother, of the anger which erupts from jealousy. For if there is a disease which has no cure, it is the anger which is rooted in jealousy. Satan, when God made Adam, felt incredibly jealous, yet managed to control his feelings, until God ordered the Angels, and alongside them the greatly knowledgeable and revered Satan, to prostrate to the First Man, Satan refused. He wanted to be not among those who prostrated. So, God expelled him from Paradise, and cursed be he till the Last Day. He is a clear enemy to the Race of Man, and although the gates of forgiveness are open to everyone, Satan has never and will have never begged pardon from the Most Forgiving Lord of the Worlds: because once jealousy explodes as rage, no path back there is. That is one side of anger which absolutely in no good. Nonetheless, there is a sort ...

  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;...