part 1

এক যুবকের জিনা করার ঘটনা একবার হলেও শুনুন | Mizanur Rahman Azhari 

এক যুবকের জিনা করার ঘটনা একবার হলেও শুনুন | Mizanur Rahman Azhari 

যাদের জীবনে গোনা আছে ওয়াজ আপনার জন্য পাপ মুছে ফেলার ওয়াজ mizanur Rahman azhari

যাদের জীবনে গোনা আছে ওয়াজ আপনার জন্য পাপ মুছে ফেলার ওয়াজ mizanur Rahman azhari

ফেরাউন ও হজরত মূসা (আ.) এর ইতিহাস  দেলোয়ার হোসেন সাঈদীর ওয়াজ

The sun dipped low over the thick timbers of Lusignan, bleeding amber into the River Vienne. Armand de Valsay, third son of a minor lord, prompted his steed forward, the hooves knocking vocally on the mossy trail. He’d been out hunting with no luck, and twilight was formerly pressing in. His father would scold him for returning empty- handed, again. 

Marek and Elara worked snappily, rallying the townies and the timber’s guardians to prepare for the brewing trouble. Under Leshy’s guidance, the townies learned to read the signs of the timber — how to hear for peril in the rustling leaves, how to move quietly through the murk. Elara tutored them old spells of protection, drawing symbols in the dirt and weaving charms from sauces gathered beneath the willow. The air grew heavy with pressure, but hope flitted in their hearts. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a sharp cry pierced the stillness — a scout had spotted movement beyond the crest. 

Marek goggled at Marzanna, heart pounding.  The ancient spirit’s aspect was heavy with anguish and wisdom. “ You seek verity, ” she said vocally. “ But guard . The stories you chase are tied to forces beyond mortal reckoning. ” Marek swallowed his fear. “ I want to help. To free those bound by pain. ” Marzanna’s eyes flitted like dying embers. “ The Rusalka was only the morning. numerous spirits suffer, trapped between worlds. ” She signaled to the pool, its face now still.

The vill of Dvorane slumbered beside a quiet lake, its waters black as essay beneath the moonlight. On the reinforcement stood a great, ancient willow whose tableware leaves rumored secrets in the wind. It was beneath this tree that the tragedy began, and where the townies say her spirit still lingers. Her name was Zorya. The entire vill had gathered to celebrate her marriage.