Menu

More apps built by Reedsy

Assemble a team of professionals

The writing app for authors

Writing courses, events and memberships

Get your book reviewed

Weekly writing prompts and contests

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog

Ayaan Kohli

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2025

Stories
Comments
Library
3 Followers
2 Following

4 Stories

54 karma pts

?

A Kite

Weekly Contest #339

I was only ten when the kites stopped flying in Lahore. Before "partition" was a word adults whispered, Lahore still felt like it belonged to all of us. Our gully in the walled city sounded the same every morning, milkmen calling out prices, cyclists weaving between rickshaws and tangas, and women arguing over vegetable prices. From our rooftop, I could see the street, the masala shop sign, and the minaret of the nearby Mosque. Best of all I could always see my best friend Kashif’s balcony where we would do hand signals to meet. Kashif and I...

12 likes 4 comments 4
Read story

Lahore, 1947

I was only ten when the kites stopped flying in Lahore. Before "partition" was a word adults whispered, Lahore still felt like it belonged to all of us. Our gully in the walled city sounded the same every morning, milkmen calling out prices, cyclists weaving between rickshaws and tangas, and women arguing over vegetable prices. From our rooftop, I could see the street, the masala shop sign, and the minaret of the nearby Mosque. Best of all I could always see my best friend Kashif’s balcony where we would do hand signals to meet. Kashif and I...

1 like 0 comments 0
Read story

Meethe Chawal

Weekly Contest #333

I was only ten when the kites stopped flying in Lahore. Before "partition" was a word adults whispered, Lahore still felt like it belonged to all of us. Our gully in the walled city sounded the same every morning, milkmen calling out prices, cyclists weaving between rickshaws and tangas, and women arguing over vegetable prices. From our rooftop, I could see the street, the masala shop sign, and the minaret of the nearby Mosque. Best of all I could always see my best friend Kashif’s balcony where we would do hand signals to meet. Kashif and I...

17 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

A Kite

I was only ten when the kites stopped flying in Lahore. Before "partition" was a word adults whispered, Lahore still felt like it belonged to all of us. Our gully in the walled city sounded the same every morning, milkmen calling out prices, cyclists weaving between rickshaws and tangas, and women arguing over vegetable prices. From our rooftop, I could see the street, the masala shop sign, and the minaret of the nearby Mosque. Best of all I could always see my best friend Kashif’s balcony where we would do hand signals to meet. Kashif and I...

1 like 0 comments 0
Read story