Shab-e-Ghizaal Ka Safar
Shab-e-Ghizaal Ka Safar The wind whispered secrets through the desert dunes, carrying with it the scent of earth and the faintest trace of blooming jasmine. Beneath a sky strewn with stars, Zareen tightened her shawl around her shoulders and gazed into the vast emptiness ahead. It was the night of Shab-e-Ghizaal—the night of the gazelle—a fabled phenomenon said to guide wanderers to their destiny. For centuries, travelers had spoken of the elusive white gazelle, whose appearance during the darkest nights foretold the unraveling of hidden truths. It was said that those who followed its trail would confront their deepest fears and uncover secrets long buried by time. Zareen’s journey had begun three days earlier when a withered old woman appeared at her village’s edge, clutching a bundle of ancient scrolls. “You have the eyes of a seeker,” the woman had said, her voice like dry leaves rustling. “Shab-e-Ghizaal will come for you. Follow it, and you will find what your heart truly de...