Aarsh Malik

Joined October 2025

62 stories

Bio

Poet, Storyteller, and Healer.

Sharing self-help insights, fiction, and verse on Vocal.

Anaesthetist.

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Stories (62)

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Midnight Bridge: New Year’s Eve Around the World
The clock is ticking. December 31st drifts quietly through cities and villages, markets and quiet homes, carrying with it a strange energy. People everywhere sense it, something is ending, something is about to begin.
By Aarsh Malikabout a month ago in Humans
Stranger Things Finale: Why So Many Are Watching, and What It Quietly Normalizes
Stranger Things is not just a television series. It is a cultural habit. Millions watched it, discussed it, theorized about it, and waited years for its finale. That alone raises an important question: what is this story feeding, and why does it resonate so deeply right now?
By Aarsh Malikabout a month ago in Humans
When Legends Fall: The Final Ride of Vince Zampella
A bright red Ferrari erupted from the belly of a tunnel at midday, its engine growling like a beast unleashed. In a heartbeat, the machine became something else altogether: a fireball against concrete. The roar of speed became a flash of metal, then an eerie silence on a narrow mountain highway. This was December 21, 2025. This was the day Vince Zampella, video games’ greatest architect of modern first-person shooters, took his final ride.
By Aarsh Malikabout a month ago in Gamers
The Man Who Won Everything Except the Crown
On certain race weekends, someone will spot Greg Biffle near a NASCAR track and hesitate for a second. Not because he looks unfamiliar.
By Aarsh Malikabout a month ago in Wheel
RIVER THAT SWALLOWED RANSOM | True Crime Story of Nazroo Narejo
Some men are not born criminals. They are broken first. The kidnapping was supposed to be silent. A clean grab. A frightened man pulled into darkness. A ransom negotiated through whispers and intermediaries. The Indus had hidden hundreds like this before.
By Aarsh Malikabout a month ago in Criminal
Shattered Home
She stands in the hallway the way small birds stand in storms, too fragile for the wind, too brave to fly away. *** Her pajamas still smell like sleep,
By Aarsh Malikabout a month ago in Poets
THE BLOODREIGN OF LYARI | The True Story of Rehman Dakait
When shadows reign in a place forgotten by the powerful, legends are born… and nightmares walk in daylight. It wasn’t a thunderclap that changed young Rehman’s life… it was a nightburst of violence, fuelled by grief and vengeance.
By Aarsh Malikabout a month ago in Criminal
Salt Covenant
I swallowed silence like fire and grew. Every word I wanted to speak was scorched, folded, buried beneath the salt of my own skin.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Poets
Masks We Wear
I learned my face the way others learn prayers. Carefully. Repeatedly. Until it sounded like belief. ** A smile, worn thin at the edges.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Poets
Staying
People think progress is always loud. A suitcase zipped, a resignation email sent at midnight, a door slammed hard enough to sound like courage.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Poets
After the Burn
At first, the fire performs. It crackles like it has something to prove, throws light against the walls as if arguing with the night. We believe this is what burning means.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Poets
Ash
At first it was only a nuisance. A fine gray dust that gathered on windowsills, on the backs of chairs, in the creases of her thoughts. It followed her indoors, clung to her hair, rested on her tongue with the faint bitterness of something already finished.
By Aarsh Malik2 months ago in Fiction