Dunya Quotes

This world cannot break you—unless you give it permission. And it cannot own you unless you hand it the keys—unless you give it your heart. And so, if you have handed those keys to dunya for a while—take them back. This isn’t the End. You don’t have to die here. Reclaim your heart and place it with its rightful owner: God.

If you allow dunya to own your heart, like the ocean that owns the boat, it will take over. You will sink down to the depths of the sea. You will touch the ocean floor.

We must also realize that nothing happens without a purpose. Nothing. Not even broken hearts. Not even pain. That broken heart and that pain are lessons and signs for us. They are warnings that something is wrong. They are warnings that we need to make a change. Just like the pain of being burned is what warns us to remove our hand from the fire, emotional pain warns us that we need to make an internal change. We need to detach. Pain is a form of forced detachment. Like the loved one who hurts you again and again and again, the more dunya hurts us, the more we inevitably detach from it. The more we inevitably stop loving it.

As much as you can, keep dunya (worldly life) in your hand--not in your heart. That means when someone insults you, keep it out of your heart so it doesn't make you bitter or defensive. When someone praises you, also keep it out of your heart, so it doesn't make you arrogant and self-deluded. When you face hardship and stress, don't absorb it in your heart, so you don't become hopeless and overwhelmed. Instead keep it in your hands and realize that everything passes. When you're given a gift by God, don't hold it in your heart. Hold it in your hand so that you don't begin to love the gift more than the giver. And so that when it is taken away you can truly respond with 'inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi rajioon': 'indeed we belong to God, and to God we return'.

I thank everyone I don't love. They don't cause me heartache they don't make me write long letters they don't disturb my dreams I don't await them anxiously I don't read their horoscopes in magazines I don't dial their numbers I don't think of them. I thank them a lot they don't turn my life upside down.

God is with the broken-hearted. When your heart breaks, it's a good thing - the breaking of the heart is what opens it up to the light of Allah. The dunya is designed to break your heart, so crush it.

After years of falling into the same pattern of disappointments and heartbreak, I finally began to realize something profound. I had always thought that love of dunya meant being attached to material things. And I was not attached to material things. I was attached to people. I was attached to moments. I was attached to emotions. So I thought that the love of dunya just did not apply to me. What I didn’t realize was that people, moments, emotions are all a part of dunya. What I didn’t realize is that all the pain I had experienced in life was due to one thing, and one thing only: love of dunya.

the nature of the dunya as a place of fleeting moments and temporary attachments.

The Prophet said: “Islam began as something strange, and it shall return to being something strange as it began, so give glad tidings to the strangers.” [Sahih Muslim] By being ‘strange’ to this dunya, we can live in it, without being of it. And it is through that detachment that we can empty the vessel of our heart in preparation for that which nourishes it and gives it life. By emptying our heart, we prepare it for its true nourishment: God.

You’re my home, Hayati. Ilove you in this dunya and the akhira. Until Jennah reunites us.

Because this is what I am. Not a Paper Girl anymore, just “girl.” Almost, as I told Lady Dunya, a caste of its own. An oppressed caste, yes, but one braver and bolder and capable of more brilliance than any other in this world.

Ultimately, the question was about the nature of the dunya as a place of fleeting moments and temporary attachments. As a place where people are with you today and leave or die tomorrow. But this reality hurts our very being because it goes against our nature. We, as humans, are made to seek, love, and strive for what is perfect and what is permanent. We are made to seek what’s eternal. We seek this because we were not made for this life. Our first and true home was Paradise: a land that is both perfect and eternal. So the yearning for that type of life is a part of our being. The problem is that we try to find that here. And so we create ageless creams and cosmetic surgery in a desperate attempt to hold on—in an attempt to mold this world into what it is not, and will never be.

Dunya had mourned her passing long before they put her in the ground.

To show you all my scars, is not to tell you that this Dunya would always leave you wounded, and bruised, and on knees, but to show you that see, healing is always possible. Healing is easy. Healing is beautiful.

Trees don’t ask why they don’t move from place to place, nor do they ask any other meaningless questions. But their branches tremble when the birds leave them,

Tale of Taj al-Muluk and the Princess Dunya (The Lover and the Loved).

Zhar Ptitsa,” Vasya said, tasting the words as though she had never sat at Dunya’s feet hearing tales of the firebird.

and then I knew that only the dreams of a stone don't become cracked and only the heart of a stone endures.

How they succumbed to the same diseases, which brought down the mighty Roman Empire. The wrote all over al-Andalus "La-Ghaliba Illa'Llah" {There is no vanquisher except Allah} but they worshipped the mata'al-dunya {pleasure of the world} and traded their souls for gold, glory, women and wine, only to end like stray donkeys, kicked around by the boots of Ferdinand and Isabella.

Dunya’s voice creaked like a calling raven, for she remembered, to her grief, the girl who had come to Ivan Kalita’s halls, lost and frail and achingly beautiful, trailing miracles behind her.

Nothing Here is Enough” I need a parrot, identical days, a quantity of needles, and artificial ink to make history. I need veiled eyelids, black lines, and ruined puppets to make geography. I need a sky wider than longing, and water that is not H2O to make wings. The days are no longer enough to distinguish the missing. I no longer see you because I no longer dream. I offer a tear to the rain as if scattering you in the Dead Sea, and in order to sing you, I need glass to muffle the sound.

TUJHE WAPIS MEIN LAUN KAISE... Tere bin jeena is dil ko sikhaun kaise, Hoon dil shikasta, tujhe wapis mein laun kaise, Tujhe yaad kar k jo girtay hein aansu mere, Dunya walon se unko chhupaun kaise, Baad tere jo kuch bhi hai beeta mujh par, Dastaan wo mein tujh ko sunaun kaise, Wo jo soya tu us din to na utha kabhi, Raha sochta mein k tujh jo jagaun kaise, Poochtay hein yeh jo mujh se k tu kaisa tha, Teri azmat ka inko bataun kaise, Tujhe bichhray ik arsa ab hone ko hai, Magar is dil ko yeh yaqeen mein dilaun kaise, Chehray ki is hansi pe na jao yaaron, Tum ko dil k zakham mein dikhaun kaise, Tere hone se hi hansta tha yeh dil saadi, Hoon pareshan ab isko hansaun kaise…!

قال أبو حازم: إذا كنت تطلب من الدنيا ما يكفيك فأدنى ما فيها يكفيك و إن كنت تطلب ما يغنيك و لا يغنيك ما يكفيك فليس فيها ما يغنيك If you seek in this world what suffices you then the least of this world will suffice you and if you seek for what will fulfil you and you can't be fulfilled by what suffices you then nothing in this world will fulfill you.

If the world were flat like a magic carpet, our sorrow would have a beginning and an end. If the world were square, we would lie low in a corner when the war plays "hide and seek." If the world were round, our dreams would take turns on the ferris wheel, and we would be equal.

Polunochnitsa,” she said, drinking. Vasya jerked back in alarm. Solovey, watching, pinned his ears. Vasya’s nurse, Dunya, had told tales of two demon-sisters, Midnight and Midday, and none of those stories ended well for lonely travelers. “Why are you here?” Vasya asked, breathing fast.

Girl. Such a simple title. One I've been labeled all my life. But nowhere was I called it more than at the Hidden Palace: spat from the beaked mouth of Madam Himura, hissed with contemp by Naja, thrown with derision by General Yu. But in the Cloud Palace, with the magnificent Lady Dunya before me and her bold, fierce daughters, I feel for one of the first times the hidden power contained within its single modest syllable. Because this is what I am. Not a Paper Girl anymore, just "girl." Almost, as I told Lady Dunya, a caste of its own. An oppressed caste, yes, but one braver and bolder and capable of more brilliance than any other in this world.

No. As I said there has been no demand for ransom. There . . . there has been no contact at all.” “Then what makes you certain he kidnapped her? She might have simply run away.” “She would never run away,” Salima said adamantly. “Dunya is a good girl. She was happy at home.” “Happy sixteen-year-olds are rarer than just kings.

The perfect country doesn't exist, the perfect consciousness doesn't exist, the perfect cosmos doesn't exist.

Democracy is people-approved dictatorship, Military is people-approved genocide. Atom bombs are people-approved armageddon, In conscience-court all guilty of homicide.

Christ stands for love and compassion, christian nationalism is Christ's death.

Faith tethered solely to books and not the heart, inadvertently becomes a breeding ground of superstition, bigotry and prejudice.

I still feel that poetry is not medicine — it's an X-ray. It helps you see the wound and understand it.

Kuslari bogdular, cimenleri soktuler, yollar camur icinde kaldi. Dunya degisiyor dostlarim. Gunun birinde gokyuzunde guz mevsiminde artik esmer lekerler goremeyeceksiniz. Gunun birinde yol kenarlarinda toprak anamizin koyu yesil saclarini da goremeyeceksiniz. Bizim icin degil cocuklar,sizin icin kotu olacak. Biz kuslari ve yesilleri cok gorduk. Sizin icin kotu olacak. Benden hikayesi....

Brother, brother, what are you saying? I mean, you have blood on your hands!" Dunya cried in despair. "The blood that's on everyone's hands," he caught her up, almost in a frenzy now, "that flows and has always flowed through the world like a waterfall, that is poured like champagne and for the sake of which men are crowned in the Capitol and then called the benefactors of mankind. Well, just take a closer look and see what's really what!...

He used to annoy me with sophistry that we all chose our destiny. Then one day I told him that that’s great when fate offers you a nice set of destinies to choose from, but when you find yourself choosing between risking being raped, tortured and killed, or moving to another country to live like an alien without tongue, money or understanding, you are buggered either way. And that’s not even to mention how easily he could navigate through the mine filed of his mistakes...

The world of justice looks very different depending on which side of disparity you belong to. For the everyday commoner, struggle for human rights is the natural way of life, whereas for privileged egomaniacs, activism is a publicity stunt.

The brutality of the regime knows no bounds. It does not remain neutral towards the people here; it creates beasts in its own image out of ordinary people who might have been neighbors instead. Even more dangerous was the fact that the fundamentals of humanity and the ABCs of life have been eviscerated from the hearts of many people here. State television destroys human compassion, the sort of fundamental empathy that is not contingent upon a political or even a cultural orientation, and through which one human being can relate to another. The al-Dunya channel stirs up hatred, broadcasts fake news and maligns any opposing viewpoint. I wasn't the only one subjected to internet attacks by the security services and the Ba'thists, even if the campaign against me may be fiercer because I come from the Alawite community and have a lot of family connections to them -- because I am a woman and it's supposedly easier to break me with rumors and character assassinations and insults. Some of my actress friends who expressed sympathy for the children of Dar'a and called for an end to the siege of the city were subjected to a campaign of character assassinations and called traitors, then forced to appear on state television in order to clarify their position. Friends who expressed sympathy for the families of the martyrs would get insulted, they would be called traitors and accused of being foreign spies. People became afraid to show even a little bit of sympathy for one another, going against the basic facts of life, the slightest element of what could be called the laws of human nature -- that is, if we indeed agree that sympathy is part of human nature in the first place. Moral and metaphorical murder is being carried out as part of a foolproof plan, idiotic but targeted, stupid yet leaving a mark on people's souls.

In one of my early works I once wrote, "America is a great country, built by great people". And it took me some time to look through the fallacy of this statement. I could still justify it by saying, it depends on the context - which would be technically true. But my dignity, my conscience, my morality - everything that is civilized in me, has been eating me alive for some time now over this one statement. Because if we throw away all technicality and look from a simple, everyday human perspective - nothing about the the birth of America is great - America is a terrorist nation, built by terrorists who invaded other people's land, stripped them of their homes, and built a spin-off of the ruthless British empire over their blood and bones. You think America's homeless problem is something new! It's not - America has been making people homeless ever since the pilgrims set foot in Plymouth Rock. The pilgrims were not pioneers, they were terrorists.

Ringrazio tutti coloro che non amo perché non mi fanno venire il mal di testa non mi fanno scrivere lunghe lettere non agitano i miei sogni non li attendo con ansia non leggo i loro oroscopi sul giornale non compongo il loro numero di telefono non li penso. Li ringrazio molto non mi mettono in subbuglio la vita”. "I thank everyone I don't love. They don't cause me heartache they don't make me write long letters they don't disturb my dreams I don't await them anxiously I don't read their horoscopes in magazines I don't dial their numbers I don't think of them. I thank them a lot they don't turn my life upside down.

Unspoken Truths (The Sonnet) Democracy is people-approved dictatorship, Military is people-approved genocide. Atom bombs are people-approved armageddon, In conscience-court all guilty of homicide. There is no time left, for there never was time, Time begins with the beginning of civilization. And civilization is something we are yet to find, Hence, there is no question of clock progression. Nationalist chimps sell war in the name of security, Stoneage civilians rush to bulk-buy graveyard plots. Merchant of murder, you, yell about peacekeeping, While you feast on nationalism like wet little cods! When cavemen take pride in their national glory of death, Sanctuary becomes asylum for the lunatic walking dead!

Cektigin aciyi ben de anliyorum. Fakat bu herkesin basindan geciyor. O yuzden senin de katlanman gerek. Sonrasinda kurtulus geliyor. O zaman artik sen, hicbir seyi dert etmeyecek, uzulmeyeceksin. Hepsi kaybolup gider. Gecici heveslerin hicbir degeri yok. Burasi dunyanin sonu. Dunya burada sona erer, otesi yoktur. O yuzden sen de artik hicbir yere gidemezsin.

I want to stand in front Allah proud of how well I treated back in dunya.

I want to stand in front of Allah proud of how well I treated you back in dunya.

*Urdu* Allahi Allah, kiya karo Dukh na kisi ko dya karo jo dunya ka malik hai nam ussi ka liya karo اللهي الله، کیا کارو/دوکه نا کسی کو دیا کارو/ جو دنیا کا مالک هي/ نام اوسي کا لیا کارو

Eksiklerini, sehir merkezinde bulunan, Ataturk Bulvari'ndaki Alman Kultur Merkezi'nde tamamlamaya calisiyordu. Merkez, oldukca zengin bir kutuphaneye sahipti: Uzuncalarlar, notalar, muzik kitaplari vardi burada.

Dogu fantezileri. Bu adam yahudilerden saminiyor, Araplarla turklere hayranlik duyuyordu. Biliyor musunuz ki, Himmler'in yazi masasinin ustunde, Kavgam'in yaninda hep bir Kuran dururdu. Sebottendorff gencliginde gizli bir Turk mezhebinin buyusune kapilmis, İslam gnoslarini incelemeye baslamisti. Fuhrer derken, aslinda Seyh-ul Cebel'i dusunuyordu. Bunlarin hepsi bir araya gelip SS'i kurduklari zaman, Hassasilerinkine benzer bir orgut tasarliyorlardi... Birinci Dunya Savasi'nda Almanya ile Turkiye'nin neden baglasik olduklarini sorudnuz mu hic kendi kendinize?..

Ama ritim ne olursa olsun, sans odullerindiriyordu bizi; cunku insan isterse, her zaman, her yerde, her seyle her sey arasinda baglantilar bulur; dunya ansizin, her seyin her seye yollama yaptigi, her seyin her seyi acikladigi bir akrabaliklar agina donusur...

On entering the kitchen she went straight over to my brother and said: BeAmrika el dunya maqluba! Amrika is America. Maqluba means upside down, and for this reason is also the name of a meat-and-rice dish that’s baked in a pan and upended before serving. El dunya maqluba means the world is upside down, an expression typically employed to describe people or places in a state of high excitement verging on mayhem.

And that’s why if we live in dunya with our hearts, it breaks us. That’s why this dunya hurts. It is because the definition of dunya, as something temporary and imperfect, goes against everything we are made to yearn for.

Just like the pain of being burned is what warns us to remove our hand from the fire, emotional pain warns us that we need to make an internal change. We need to detach. Pain is a form of forced detachment. Like the loved one who hurts you again and again and again, the more dunya hurts us, the more we inevitably detach from it. The more we inevitably stop loving it.

All of us are autumn leaves, ready to fall at any time.

Their hands tore her body into halves, like two countries at war, the dividing line on inferno and dead people.

Her dress exploded, the flowers scattered in the air, the colours popped up high like fireworks in a celebration, but: no sound could be heard, no sound...

Dunya!’ Raskolnikov stopped her, getting up and walking towards her. ‘This Razumikhin, Dmitry Prokofich, is a very good man.’ Dunya coloured slightly. ‘And?’ she asked after waiting a minute or so. ‘He’s a business-like, hard-working, honest man, capable of great love … Goodbye, Dunya.

Dunya, dearest! If I’m guilty, forgive me (although if I’m guilty, I cannot be forgiven). Goodbye! Let’s not argue! I can’t stay a moment longer. Don’t come after me, I beg you. I’ve another visit to make … Go now and be with mother. Please, I beg you! It’s the last and biggest thing I ask you. Don’t leave her for a moment. I’ve left her too worried to cope: she’ll either die or go mad. Stay with her! You’ll have Razumikhin with you. I told him … Don’t weep for me: I’ll try to be a man, and honest, for the rest of my life, even though I’m a murderer. One day, perhaps, you’ll hear my name. I won’t shame you, you’ll see. I’ll still prove … but for the time being, goodbye,’ he hurriedly concluded, noticing once again a strange expression in Dunya’s eyes at these final words and promises. ‘Why are you crying like that? Don’t cry, don’t! We’re not parting forever … Oh yes, wait! I forgot!

If you want to move to a country where there is no human rights issue, you'd have to move to a different planet. No country is perfect, it doesn't have to be. As long as there are citizens who value progress over propaganda, and rights over ritual, there is hope for the country yet.

No hay país perfecto, no hay conciencia perfecta, no hay cosmos perfecto.

Vicdansaadet, The Sonnet I have many names, Sometimes I am Hometown Human, Sometimes I am Mucize Insan, Sometimes I am Ingan Impossible, Sometimes I am Mukemmel Musalman, Sometimes I am Dervish Advaitam, Sometimes I am Bulldozer on Duty, Sometimes I am Corazon Calamidad, Sometimes I am High Voltage Habib, Sometimes I am Himalayan Sonneteer, Sometimes I am The Gentalist, Sometimes I am Divane Dynamite, Sometimes I am Rowdy Scientist. These all look and sound so different, because you are distant in culture. Move past the circus of manmade caves, within every heart you'll find a Naskar. Call it Naskar, Shams or Adi Shankara, it is all but one spirit of oneness. Wherever the fire of integration takes hold, there emerges Vicdansaadet.

Humanitarian Nuclear Physics (The Sonnet) One nuclear warhead contains 9 lbs of plutonium, Which can electrify 2000 households for a year. Yet you use that majestic power of atom as pawn, In your stoneage geopolitical games of fear. When monkeys crack the mystery of the atom, Without developing any civilized purpose, They go blind with the madness of power, Atom bombs become newage arrows and spears. Hypnotized by the mindless pursuit of "could", Apes rarely ever stop to question if they should! What good is such science without conscience, What good is a scientist without a vision for good! Either atom bombs will be obsolete as bow and arrow, Or humankind will go extinct like dinosaurs tomorrow.

Space Exploration Ethics 101 If we can colonize Mars, we can heal the Earth. But that's not the point here. The point is, we gotta explore space just like we gotta explore anything unknown - but we must do so as humble scientists, not as steroid-pumped, illegitimate offspring of musky retards like Columbus. We gotta explore space just like we explore the Arctic. Humankind has several outposts in the Arctic, dedicated solely to research - our endeavors into other planets oughta be exactly like that. Otherwise, what starts out as space exploration will soon turn into space imperialism, and will do to other planets what white terrorists have been doing to the indegenous people on earth for ages. Therefore, focus on space exploration, not on space colonization. Let me put this into perspective. NASA, ISRO, CNSA, ESA, KARI, JAXA (and more) - these represent the real democratic aspirations of humankind's endeavors of curiosity into space, whereas SpaceX, Blue Origin, Virgin Galactic these are the new-age posterboys of space imperialism. All I say is this, O Brave Explorers of Space - your mission is to explore the universe to facilitate human welfare, not to be some retarded billionaire's backboneless underwear. Beware, I repeat - space exploration doesn't turn into space imperialism!

Beware, space exploration doesn't turn into space imperialism!

O Brave Explorers of Space - your mission is to explore the universe to facilitate human welfare, not to be some retarded billionaire's backboneless underwear.

NASA, ISRO, CNSA, ESA, KARI, JAXA (and more) - these represent the real democratic aspirations of humankind's endeavors of curiosity into space, whereas SpaceX, Blue Origin, Virgin Galactic these are the new-age posterboys of space imperialism.

Sanatana Dharma is advaita sanskriti, that is, a culture of nonsectarianism, Hindutva means mindless saffronization.

Khalsa means freedom from hate, Khalistan means nationalizing hate.

It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of tribe to the side of life.

Time to Defect (The Sonnet) It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of passport to the side of heartport, from the side of prison to the side of reason, from the side of nationality to the side of sanity, from the side of myopia to the side of motion, from the side of crutches to the side of conscience, from the side of coffins to the side of character, from the side of bombs to the side of backbone, from the side of barbwire to the side of brainwire, from the side of flag to the side of fervor, from the side of parasites to the side of paragons, from the side of pacemakers to the side of peacemakers, from the side of ideology to the side of illumination. It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of caves to the side of kind, from the side of tribe to the side of life.

If you are not indigenous, you are an immigrant.

Intolerance is a worldwide pandemic, only terminologies vary culture to culture. Vaccine for the mightiest swords of hate, is the gentle glint of one heart, hatebuster.

This Fourth of July, instead of celebrating your Americanness, do something to redeem your humanness. Anybody can become a super power by exploiting and abusing others - that's not greatness, it's bestiality - but to grow super without trampling on anybody, that's greatness - better yet, to grow super together with everybody, that's absolute greatness.

99 percent of the world's warzones are the legacy of white, western imperialism. Until you get your head around this simple fact, your views, your opinion, your advocacy, all are worthless to the peace struggles of these "westsploited" nations. In the modern age no other country has wrecked more nations than America. Like father, like son - first it was England, then it's its rebellious runaway child America. That's why China is such an enemy in the westwashed narrative of the world - because when one nation has somewhat maintained an autocratic control over the planet since the 1800s (under the banner of "Manifest Destiny"), it would never want that control be undermined by another budding power - particularly when that power is far superior in infrastructure. Sure, the state of China tries to influence every move of its people, that's the first unwritten rule in the handbook of "democracy" - but Uncle Sam has been manipulating the moves of every single state for over two hundred years. Now tell me, which state should you be more cautious of? No country is free from human rights violation, but America's share in global transgressions is right at the very top. America is the top exporter of humanitarian crisis in the world, and as such, US is the least qualified nation to be the moral guardian on anything. It doesn't matter whether you are white, colored or martian - denial never solves nothing. To treat a disease we must first acknowledge the disease. And what is the disease? Is it white people - is it whiteness? No - whiteness is not the disease, but white imperialism is. And how do you treat this disease? You gotta strip yourself of all the privileges of skin, and make yourself one with the world - you gotta denounce the privilege of your whiteness and embrace the responsibility of your humanness. Only then, shall there be peace in the world - only then, shall there be integration - only then, shall there be a civilized world to begin with.

Nothing about the the birth of America is great - America is a terrorist nation, built by terrorists who invaded other people's land, stripped them of their homes, and built a spin-off of the ruthless British empire over their blood and bones. You think America's homeless problem is something new! It's not - America has been making people homeless ever since the pilgrims set foot in Plymouth Rock. The pilgrims were not pioneers, they were terrorists.

Ain't Hands But Hammer (Reformer's Sonnet) Mine ain't hands but hammer - to knock down walls of prejudice. Mine ain't brain but bulldozer - to crush all bigoted rubbish. Brain is needed, brawn is needed, More than all conscience is needed. While the violent pretend to be gentle, The gentle pretending violent, is needed. Peace is not the absence of violence, Peace is an act of controlled violence. Controlled narcissism is a golden faculty, To reform a society rooted in somnolence. When all pretend gentle, I admit, I'm mental. To the peace of intolerance, I'm damn detrimental.

Peace is not the absence of violence, peace is an act of controlled violence.

The entire world is Afghanistan, you never felt it because either you are white or privileged.

Wanna study geopolitics? First, take off your westwashed glasses - second, take off your westwashed shoes - third, scrub off your westwashed skin. In a world where the west has caused more humanitarian crises than Naskar has written books, you shall understand nothing till you decolonize your mind, no matter which hemisphere you are born in.

Struggle in the streets, struggle in the beaches, only then you shall know, what suits the humans, what suits the leeches.

There is no difference between a barking dog with golden platter and barking activist with a silver spoon.

For privileged egomaniacs, activism is a publicity stunt.

No tolerance for intolerance.

Human can't hate, hate can't be human.

From Karbala to Kurukshetra, from Jerusalem to Chanakkale, light of truth has never submitted to the howling audacity of divisive animality - then why should you? Remember, there is a karbala in each of you, there is a kurukshetra in each of you, there is a jerusalem and chanakkale in each of you. And till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason. So, get up - get out - and get lost! Wanna lead the world? First learn about the world - get so lost in the struggles of each and every people of planet earth, that you forget where you came from altogether - get so lost in the struggles of the people of earth, that for the first time in life you start to breathe as a whole human being - get so lost, that for the first time you see the light of dawn not as a puny slave to puny borders, but as the civilized maker of a civilized world.

From Karbala to Kurukshetra, from Jerusalem to Chanakkale, light of truth has never submitted to the howling audacity of divisive animality - then why should you? Remember, there is a karbala in each of you, there is a kurukshetra in each of you, there is a jerusalem and chanakkale in each of you. And till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason.

Wanna lead the world? First learn about the world - get so lost in the struggles of each and every people of planet earth, that you forget where you came from altogether - get so lost in the struggles of the people of earth, that for the first time in life you start to breathe as a whole human being - get so lost, that for the first time you see the light of dawn not as a puny slave to puny borders, but as the civilized maker of a civilized world.

Injustice is not allowed on my watch.

What's the first commandment - a fundamentalist preacher once yelled at me with utter condescension! I replied quite instinctively - love thy neighbor. He laughed in ridicule and said - if you had actually studied the bible, you'd know, the first commandment is, love thy God - love thy neighbor is the second. I smiled and responded - and if you had paid any attention to my pal JC, you'd know - love comes first, nothing before that.

One nuclear warhead contains 9 lbs of plutonium, Which can electrify 2000 households for a year. Yet you use that majestic power of atom as pawn, In your stoneage geopolitical games of fear.

And that's why if we love in dunya with our hearts, it breaks us. That's why this dunya hurts. It is because the definition of dunya, as something temporary and imperfect, goes against everything we are made to yearn for.

I was expecting this life to be what it is not, and was never meant to be: perfect. And being the idealistic that I am, I was struggling with every cell in my body to make it so. It had to be perfect. And I would not stop until it was. I gave my blood, sweat, and tears to this endeavor: making the dunya into jannah.

By thinking that I can have everything here, my hope was not in my meeting with God. My hope was in dunya.

Dunya-E-Dijital Hai Kisi Rango Se Bhari, Har Nazdeekiyon Mein Chhupi Hai E Kahani, Najaane Kaun Sachcha Hai, Kaun Farebi, Isey Samjho, Yeh Bhi Ek Natak Kehlaati Hai Kahani.

Know your roots, know your nature, Step out of your tribal stretcher. You got a mind full of atomic light, Where did you lose your himalayan vigor!

Keep struggling, o brave soldier - keep struggling till politicians become an extinct species and politics an extinct profession.

Keep struggling, o brave soldier - keep struggling till politicians become an extinct species and politics an extinct profession. The mission is, not to replace old world mindlessness with new world mindlessness, but to put an end to all forms of brainless authoritarianism selected randomly on the basis of charisma and popularity by hysterical whim.

The mission, I repeat, is to build a one world family, not one world government. Till the very word “government” is nowhere to be found but in books on ancient tribal rituals, keep on struggling, O Sapiens Impossible!

Keep struggling, o brave soldier - keep struggling till politicians become an extinct species and politics an extinct profession. The mission is, not to replace old world mindlessness with new world mindlessness, but to put an end to all forms of brainless authoritarianism selected randomly on the basis of charisma and popularity by hysterical whim. The mission, I repeat, is to build a one world family, not one world government. Till the very word “government” is nowhere to be found but in books on ancient tribal rituals, keep on struggling, O Sapiens Impossible!

You are unity, you are trinity, You are the end of all animosity! You are able, always accountable, You are the measure of living sanity!

Till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason.

There is a karbala in each of you, there is a kurukshetra in each of you, there is a jerusalem and chanakkale in each of you. And till you accept defeat out of your own free will, not a force in the world can dampen the daring advances of love and reason.

On earth we are immigrants from Africa - out in space we'd be immigrants from Earth - in a different galaxy, we'd be immigrants from Milkyway. To put simply, in exploration of space, both external and internal, terms like immigrant and indigenous are meaningless. It's the heart that makes us indigenous or immigrant, not blood.