when i was a child precocious breaking hands legs on a precipice of life i stood my body parts made of wood than when i grew up i fell in love slavishly with her womanhood broke my heart my spirit time unrepentant stood poetically exhausted lost the reason to live my shop with all its goods my passion my pathos she stupidly misunderstood
dedicated to a great humble street photographer akbar simonse ..would like to shoot like him if i could
Title - Al-Murtaza, Al-Amir-ul-Mo’mineen, Abu-Turab, Asadullah
Kunyat - Abul Hasan
Born - Friday 13th of Rajab, in the Holy Ka’ba
Father’s Name - Abu Talib-ibne-Abdul Muttalib
Mother’s Name - Fatima bint-e-Asad
Died - at the age of 63 years, at Kufa, on Monday, the 21st Ramadan 40 AH, murdered by an assassin who mortally wounded him with a poisoned sword in the Mosque at Kufa during morning prayers on the 19th of Ramadan.
Buried - Najaf, near Kufa.
1. A wise man first thinks and then speaks and a fool speaks first and then thinks. - Hazrat Ali Ibn-e-Abi Talib
3. Be generous but not extravagant,
What is Nahjul Balagha ?
The Nahjul Balagha is a collection of sermons, precepts, prayers, epistles and aphorisms of 'Ali ('a) compiled by al-Sayyid al-Sharif al-Radi about one thousand years ago. However…
The Perfumed Garden, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr. home is where the heart is large abundant like this inherited by my grand children as their birthday wish my poetry my photography nook my niche my soul leaping weeping like dying fish gasping for air panting sluggish will soon vanish
a bhaiyya from uttar pradesh hunting for hope he came away from his hometown life was never the same a political scapegoat for the shortcomings of his own leaders he took blame called a bhaiyya his name his lifes struggle smell of mustard oil his notoriety to fame ...a pawn in a game once trampled by a horde of white elephants now beneath the wheels of a cosmic cycle his fate limping knock kneed lame a candle in the wind an enduring flame