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Lifelong
Happiness
By Hilath Rasheed
(Dec 2004)
Mirah looked down. The grey ground looked inviting. In fact, anything would have been inviting at this point other than life, living. “What do you think you are doing!” someone shouted. Mirah turned around. He was surprised that anybody would come up the terrace at this time of the day. “Why can’t you stay at home for a weekend once?” Mirah almost shouted. He was quite upset that his carefully planned plunge was interrupted. Full Story
By Shanooha
Mansoor
(Jan 2005)
I sit staring at the computer
screen, bathed in its white glow, different thoughts fleeting though my mind,
not having really latched on to any one in particular. My half-hearted attention
on the conversation I am having
online, I’m pressed by the need to impress the articulate faceless nick
on the other side, as well as pulled by the need to be indifferent, to protect
myself against any of the ‘things’ that I might feel. I know it
sounds kind of absurd for me to even contemplate that I might start feeling
‘things’ for these faceless nicknames, but when one is desperate,
he or she tends to be haunted by a myriad of possibilities, opportunities,
or whatever you want to call them.Full Story
Two
Random Guys
By Ibráhím Sharíf
(Dec 2004)
You know that much because
you weren’t born yesterday. But you feel like you were.
Not born, though. You were born years ago when you came out wet, writhing,
screaming at the world. Or whatever. So, you weren’t born yesterday.
Something else happened to you. It wasn’t pretty, in reality. You were
just driven through a meat grinder. But you’re not dead, are you? Not
yet, at least. Full story
And
you, too
by Hilath (May 2004)
“If someone had told me only six months ago that it’s possible to fall in love with two people at the same time, I would have laughed at the idea at the time.” Nina, my quiet bestfriend, nodded. Being my lifelong friend, she knew exactly what I was talking about. Full story
Cold
Winds from the Clouds
By
Ibráhím Sharíf (Nov 2004)
Salah's drowsiness left him, and for a moment he looked up at the ceiling. And the ceiling looked back down at him. All was silent. “Yes it can,” he said to himself. There was nothing more. Nothing more. Anger can kill you, said the ceiling. He slept. And dreamt that the housecat ate him. And dreamt of the empty box. The housecat ate him. It was his uncle. Salah was six years old. And his uncle ate him alive. Housecats can kill you said the ceiling. Full Story
Somewhere along the road I had lost touch with being content, with being what I was. There always seemed to be attainable heights, greater pleasures, a bit further I could push myself. I could not live, not happily anyway, for I was blinded by my wants, when I could very well have done with all I had, all that was mine. I could have been one of those people smiling, a soul at peace, that free spirit without fretters that bound me to my miserable self. Sigh! Full story
The Shrink and I
by Hilath Rasheed (July 2004)
IMPORTANT NOTICE:
This story is to be published in the anthology of short stories "In Our Own Words: A Generation Defining Itself - Volume 6" to be published in the United States after June 2005. Under the terms of publishing, nobody else but the publisher is allowed rights to this story. Which means I cannot publish it here on the Internet until I get back the rights after December 2006. So, sorry folks but you may have to buy this book if you want to read the story, or wait to read online here after December 2006.--Hilath, 6 May 2005
The Box
by Omar Zeidane (March 2003)
“Ha, don’t you ever get
bored of saying that?”
“Not really, comes with the job I suppose…” [Long pause]
“What do you think of Jacky?”
“Jacky? Yeah she seems
to be good at her job and pleasant enough.”
“Yeah, what about her legs? You see
those?” [laughter]
“Come on, I’m a happily married man.” Full Story
Dhon Hiyala: A "sequel"
(A short story by K.J.
for "Joos Petty" magazine, http://www.msa-uk.org/) 
My name is Dhon hiyala. Yes, the Dhonhiyala in the story Dhonhiyala aai Alifulhu. You might be surprised to hear from me like this. After all I am supposed to be dead, aren’t I? Well, I am not. And Alifulhu survived, too. Full Story
Dhon Hiyala and Ali Fulhu: a true love story?
By Mohamed Shathir, special
historical correspondent of Haveeru Daily
MALE, June 21, 2003 -- The story of Dhon hiyala and Ali Fulhu is Maldives’ equivalent of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, but the legend of their tragic love is shrouded in mystery, and many Maldivians still ask whether it was just another folk story, or whether it was a true story. The answer, with regard to the most recent available research is that, though the love story may have taken place, it may not be as melodramatic as the tale that is being told by our forefathers. Full Story
The Loneliest Boy in Male'
by Ali Anonymous (Oct 2001)
Sometimes he spends hours lying on his bed, mentally tired, and seriously in thought, and there comes certain points where his mind stops thinking, and he actually touches the veins on his wrist; it comes to the point where his mind actually tells him that it will be quite painless if he cut it clean with a knife that is real sharp and that death like that will not be painful -- it would just flow out along with the rest of the blood, and he would wake up on the other side. Full Story
PARENTAL ADVISORY: This story is a frank account of a young Maldivian man's homosexuality and as such, some readers may find the content offensive. The webmaster requests younger viewers not to view this story.
Last Among Equals
by Mohamed (Feb 2003)
There was a funny moment when we found the book "Aliens and UFOs and Mysteries of the Universe" under the WOMEN AND GENDER COLLECTION at the National Library in Male'. "This is not the correct location for these," said Amber picking out the two books. "What makes you think so?" I asked pokerfaced. "I think it's in the correct section." That really brought her hackles up! I couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face but when she started her speech on women's rights and the like I quickly apologised. She really knows how to dampen any man's spirit. Full Story
Unique?
By Mohamed
(Feb 2003)
Everyone has secrets. No one is exempt. The important thing is to know how dangerous the secret is, or how important that it be kept secret…
For a long time I believed I was alone. Then, I knew I was alone. Even when I was not, I was. Full Story
The Seawall
by Hilath (Feb 2003)
A sense of dread engulfed his body, and he almost choked on water when he tried to take in a deep breath to stuff his oxygen-starved brain. He now clearly remembered why he was in the water, half-conscious, seconds from drowning. Full Story
Is This Love?
by BANA LATHYF
'LOVE' is a word created by William Shakespeare. He made up this magical word, defined it handsomely and seasoned it with feelings just for the publicity of his novels and to make his plays give out big green bucks. But little was he to know he was creating a feeble disease that would make the world population soft brained and to act as klutz's. Full Story
Four Stories
by Ian Butterworth
After years working away I returned to Male'. The old man was in hospital, hollowed with cancer. I visited him with my son. I was shocked to see his dying eyes glisten when he saw my boy.
She was by his bedside. She held his hand, her tears falling to his parched skin. I couldn't find any words to say to her. She looked at me, and whispered, 'Stay away.' Six days later I heard that he'd died. She'd died years before. Full Story
Dead Reality
by Schanuha (2001)
Lying on the cold metal
table, I feel a chill go through my spine. There seems to be a permanent coldness
in the dissection hall made worse by the stink of formalin. It never escapes
me; I seem to be
drenched in the smell of the dead, suspended somewhere between life and death.
Full Story
Midnight Prayers
by Hilath Rasheed (Dec
2002)
He entered the desolate mosque, turned on the tap; the water running on his hands was cold, and he gave an involuntary shudder. He forced himself to run some of it over his still half-closed eyes and washed his feet.
“Ilham.”
He wasn’t sure he heard his name being called. Full Story
Company of Strangers
by Sharif Ali (Jan 2003)
I cry and cry and mama sits beside me on the floor holding my hand and tells me I’m a good boy and be good to people even though they treat you like turd, and she keeps on telling me that papa did the same to her and she starts to cry and cry and I hold her hand and tell her papa won’t do anything of that sort again and she gives me a what-do-you-know-about-papa kinda look and she cuts her waterworks after an hour or so. Full Story
The Letter
by Moosa Latheef
My hands were resting on my chest, holding the letter protectively, lest it be blown away with the morning breeze out through the windows. I had it clutched to my bosom tightly right throughout the whole night, even when I slept. Full Story
by Maryam
Just as she took a step into the room, the voices ceased and she found herself facing Aiman who desperately attempted to regain his composure. Leena could see no one else in the room. Fear, mingled with elation and alarm, crossed Aiman's features.He caught hold of Leena's elbow and steered her out of the room before she could even protest. But her keen hearing did not miss the soft sound of the dining room door closing behind them. Full Story
She
by Sharif Ali (Dec 2002) 
She was the happiest girl ever until she began to sense a touch of betrayal behind his tender smile. One fine day she dropped in at his place to find him in the arms of a drop dead gorgeous. Doomsday lurked in on Sheeza. She cried until she dried herself of tears. That was the first time a man ever made her cry. The first time she was cheated on. The first time she felt she was the loser. The first time she felt inferior. The first time she knew love wasn't a game. The first time she felt she wasn't beautiful enough. Full Story
The Nasty Get-Together
by Mariyam Nadhrath (Nov 2002)
She was tied to the mast of his father's old boat. The boatyard was deserted and it was really dark, an appropriate setting for tying girls to masts. She tried to free her hands but the knot was faithful to its master. She was helpless and completely at his mercy. Suddenly he was standing right next to her, his face, inches from hers. Full Story
The ISLAND
by
Mohamed (Oct 2002)
Once upon a time, far away from all the places you have seen or heard about, there was an island inhabited by FEELINGS.
It was a small island with white sandy beaches and surrounded by a beautiful blue sea. The FEELINGS had lived there for a long time and as it happens often and when least expected, one day their lives changed forever. Full Story
The Solution
by Ali Rasheed (1991)
He wondered what to do to pass away the time. That was a laugh! Here he was with less than half a day to live and he was wondering how to spend the time. That proved he had made the right decision. Full Story
The Visit
by Ali Rasheed (1994)
As the radio telephone operator fled out of the office, he caught sight of the temporary clerk looking at him interestedly. It was clear that she had been listening. He was furious. Full Story
A Thought
by Mariyam Nadhrath (2001)
She had been content, if not happy in her busy isolated existence, had even forgotten that she was supposed to be lonely. And then she met him. After that… few things had made sense. Full Story
Here on Earth
by Hilath (Dec 2000)
The meeting is brief. Me, on my Dahon bike. He, on his mountain bike.
Our eyes meet. For the briefest of seconds. And then we pass. He is lost.
But the memory lingers. Inside the deep recesses of my mind. Something deep inside me rekindles a flicker of longing. Full Story
Girl in the Shadow
by Hilath (Sept 2000) 
It is remarkable. We just sit there. Without talking. In silence.
She makes the first move. “Have you ever known what it feels like to be with someone?”
I am not used to this type of conversation. But I am determined to keep up. Maybe this is the ritual. That right of passage that makes someone make the transition into the adult world of longing, affection, passion—and love. Full Story
The Happy Prince
by Oscar Wilde
This is the only story that makes me openly cry when I read every line and every word of it. A truly haunting moral and social message. For those of you who are sleeping the slumber of ignorance, wake up to the realities of the social conditions of your existence.
