Ocean without Shores

This world is beautiful. Isn't it? Look at those colourful flowers full of life and that lovely blue sky. Those free birds, flying high and the pleasure they hum. Have you ever felt it? The obese, kind hearted person. The gaunt, positive thinker. The dwarfish, selfless human. The towering, intellectual soul. How beautiful all of them are. What amazing qualities do they have. They are different and not so gorgeous yet all of them are beautiful. There qualities are what make them captivating. She is pretty with that plump nose. He is handsome without those abs. She doesn't need long hair to look good. He looks totally perfect without that sharp jawline. Sometimes it's better to stop judging a book by its cover. Sometimes it's better to stop criticising others based on there looks. Everyone is beautiful in their own way. This is all God's creation and indeed God's reflection too. When you start observing things, you find beauty in each and when everything seem

Son of the great king Jahangir who had once been insane for a girl; Anarkali, Shah Jahan learned the same from his father. Seated high on his Peacock throne, his heavy-lidded eyes gleamed with loss and pride. The Shah sorrowed over the death of his beloved wife, Mumtaz Mahal-the Paragon of the palace. He had loved her more than any woman. They said such was his devotion to, and confidence in, her that she would read all his firmans and, should she approve, put the regal seal on them. She was not only his consort, but also his companion, confidante and counselor. In her absence he was inconsolable. He visited her private apartments at nights, as though chasing her fragrance-or apparition and when confronted with the emptiness of the chambers, he burst into tears. Just like this, Jahan Shah, son of a brave soldier Aleem Shah, was madly in love with Mehirmah, princess of the Ottoman Empire. She was young, beautiful, and charming but Jahan Shah, one of the many slaves, loved her simplic

"Destiny is not designed by mere  mortals like us.  It is crafted  by God." -Rodrigo Duterte This world is a busy place. Many come, many go but life never stops. We are adapted to such a life. We don't know or maybe we don't want to know the main purpose of our existence. Were we sent to sit on the praying rug hunched or is there a different reason of our life? My words at the moment would be tough to understand because we don't know our purpose of existence yet and it's a secret how can we know it? But trust me, once in a lifetime, two roads open up to you and there you have to decide between the purpose of existence and means of existence. Now the question arises, how to know which road leads to the sole purpose of life? Simple: the place where the heart is and the place where the heart is, is the place where you're brought to tears. Our heart can never lead us astray as the God lives there. The heart is your temple and the key of its door hid

I wandered in the gardens of rose I roamed in the streets of whores I roved in the houses of bawds But no peace did I find everyone knows. I moved to the bars Intoxicant liquid jars Numb became the hours But alas, no peace did I find in the notorious dark. I tried to sleep And all night weep My heart used to bleed But no peace did I find, I retreat. My narcissism vanished And ego banished I was tornished But no peace did I find, instead, perished. It was the darkest age A war against myself I waged I accepted your rage My life began, peace I chased. My hands trembled My feet shuddered I entered your prison Yet my soul shivered No, I was wrong Your anger was not long Your love was a song I sang all along. Nothing fears me anymore The tavern becomes my mosque And the brothel, a temple The night becomes my church And my tears become pearls. I was lost Used to boast You changed me I attained peace when you became the host. Regards, Yashal Ja

Forget your life. Say  God is Great . Get up. You think you know what time it is. It’s time to pray. You’ve carved so many little figurines, too many. Don’t knock on any random door like a beggar. Reach your long hand out to another door, beyond where you go on the street, the street where everyone says, “How are you?” and no one says  How aren’t you? Tomorrow you’ll see what you’ve broken and torn tonight thrashing in the dark. Inside you there’s an artist you don’t know about. He’s not interested in how different things look in moonlight. If you are here unfaithfully with us, you’re causing terrible damage. If you’ve opened your loving to God’s love you’re helping people you don’t know and have never seen. Is what I say true? Say yes quickly, if you know, you’ve known it from the beginning of the universe. Regards, Yashal Jalil

There is a beautiful story about God and music. Apparently, God became very unhappy with the earthlings because of strife, wars and general anarchy in the world. He came to earth and told earthlings that He will destroy them. However, God wanted to give earthlings a chance so He asked them to give a single reason why they should not be destroyed. "We have produced great beings like Mohammed, Christ, Buddha etc. who have given us great teachings", said earthlings. God retorted that maximum number of human killings have taken place in the name of religion. Earthlings then recounted the great technological inventions that mankind has produced to which God replied that there are still some 3 billion people living in tremendous hardship and poverty despite these inventions. The reasoning and response of God stumped the earthlings. Then somebody said, "we have produced great music". "Let us hear it", God replied. The world music including Indian ragas, Bach,