tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37907596517990972932024-03-12T21:51:00.279-07:00The Jasmine GardenBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-15818993412913145532012-02-01T10:25:00.000-08:002012-02-01T11:05:58.723-08:00In November...I went for a few weeks to visit Bangladesh and to visit family...I did not go out that much...but I had a chance to visit with my mother in law and sisters in law...and to eat very good Bengali food...but on the way back I had a chance to visit Istanbul in Turkey..it is a very beautiful city.it is very old and the streets was made with cobble stones..and the houses were very quaint....we only got to stay a few days..but during those two days..we did a lot..and my daughter Alia came from Switzerland to join us..we went on a boat ride...seeing the coast of the city...we went to Topaika Palace..which is the resident of the Sultan that ruled the Otoman empire...it was very beautiful..but within the palace was a section that held the relics of Prophet Muhammed PBUH..this included his tooth, his hair, his footprint, his clothing and his sword..also what stood out for me was it had Mose's staff that he used to split the red sea...and it turned into a snake...when the Pharouh and his magician tested him by turning their wands into snakes...his staff turned into a snake..and ate all the other snakes...we also saw Prophet Muhammad's daughter Fahtima's dress and her prayer rug...they had Muhammad's companion's Abu Bakr's sword..but I think it really impressed me was Mose's staff..it looked like a very old branch of a tree..I feel that it was there where he saw the burning bush and when he received the Ten Commandments...it was exciting for me...we saw other parts of the palace where we saw the Sultan's clothing..and very beautiful jewelery..such as diamonds and emeralds..sitting rooms..everywhere you looked there was Gold...then we went to the Blue Mosque to pray Juma prayer.very large domes and minerats.you see why they named it the Blue Mosque...because it is made with Blue tile..very beautiful Arabic Calligraphy adorned the walls..In Islam in the mosque..you are not supposed to show any images..so within the mosque..there is usually mosaic and art that is not figurative..We went very nice restaurants..the food was very delicious..Turkey is known for its bread and cheeses..also we had lentil soup...everywhere we had very nice bread...their bread is very large but hollow on the inside..we went out to the bazzars where my daughter did some shopping...a lot of the jewelery had the eye..that wards off evil..One thing that was truly beautiful that we saw..was the whirling dervishes..this was downtown Istanbul and we had to take a bus from our hotel...It took place in an old bath house..and it was lit by very low light..dervishes are sufis that is the mysticism of Islam...they were dressed in white with tall hats with white robes...and kneeling on white lamb's wool..in the background was very soothing music...and then they spun..and whirled around...their beautiful white skirts flowing from them..their hands outstretched..right hand out stretched upward towards heaven the left hand pointing to the earth...and they were spinning...it was very heavenly and serene...and they spun counterclockwise..representing the earth and the planets orbit in space..All this was very beautiful, because my daughter was there...she was not afraid to get lost...and did not mind going on the train to certain areas..and had a good sense of direction...all in all it was a beautiful tripBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-81874985085908702442011-11-07T13:44:00.000-08:002011-11-07T13:45:47.641-08:00The Dervish Dancer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKf5_hImfTwbqlGGRIDQUgXmH_Vd0aXaasirVf9n6h_v5NDSLISZVgFSQNxjiiG5Jfu0jbJ6DYLstYkB8niNAvs-u0hw4YMHcFrX-7CusMPFD98mC2_0inRLN4c_bQWDpmCME1yn8LHNER/s1600/photo%25281%2529.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKf5_hImfTwbqlGGRIDQUgXmH_Vd0aXaasirVf9n6h_v5NDSLISZVgFSQNxjiiG5Jfu0jbJ6DYLstYkB8niNAvs-u0hw4YMHcFrX-7CusMPFD98mC2_0inRLN4c_bQWDpmCME1yn8LHNER/s400/photo%25281%2529.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672373181856821650" /></a>Bushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-76497472542871394832011-06-16T14:13:00.000-07:002011-06-16T14:23:36.379-07:00To abandonned and aborted childrenYou are now the whisper<br />That turns the leaves<br />With the Golden light of Twilight<br />You are the developed thought<br />Within the red light<br />Behind the closed eye of early morning<br />Remembering the loss of the night before<br />You exist within the space between my folded arms<br />And in my heart...I feel the emptiness and loss<br />Dear child...you are not forgotten<br />There are many mornings waiting for you<br />A resurrection behind ongoing violet hills<br />Many other children to play with...songs to be sung<br />Myriads of green fields to run...filled with stars<br />Endless angelic hands to cradle you<br />You are the tears that God has wept<br />Which reflect in each drop...His light<br />A rainbow after the rain...a rebirth<br />Refreshing...water after thirstBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-487071257312258702011-06-16T13:02:00.000-07:002011-06-16T13:11:05.888-07:00Tania and I<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7ziGeoKe_lZ_FBuOYFToDWlRCr_GiX1cCNJUUXJctA25a_DN3_zEt5iycnzTBmRxR3SXTsxMZDAuWv_OKQ46r3Ms3-eD3KNpQSRb6DqsiLN7359mFmksk4na-_Rj_6GnSxnAwW8EEbX6/s1600/IMG_1360.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7ziGeoKe_lZ_FBuOYFToDWlRCr_GiX1cCNJUUXJctA25a_DN3_zEt5iycnzTBmRxR3SXTsxMZDAuWv_OKQ46r3Ms3-eD3KNpQSRb6DqsiLN7359mFmksk4na-_Rj_6GnSxnAwW8EEbX6/s320/IMG_1360.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618912206271548658" /></a><br /><br />Me and my beautiful daughter <br />tania...who I have a beautiful relationship withBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-44751144632804634102010-06-09T12:00:00.000-07:002010-06-09T12:04:46.122-07:00Addies and Tropa’s weddingYou stand together<br />The threshold of your future<br />Before the great sea of Words<br />Eternity<br />Going back to the Source<br />Jungles within oceans<br />Corrals,,,Waterlilies<br />Tangled roots of Generations<br />Of fathers encircling around your hearts<br />Webs holding you together<br />As you both venture forth<br />To the dawn of many mornings<br />Tenderness twines around both of you<br />Giving you the love and strength<br />To sacrifice for each other<br />To live for the happiness of each other<br />Hold each other sacred<br />Within the inner temple of your hearts<br />Loving only each other passionately<br /><br />Build your house facing the Light<br />Of a strong foundation<br />Of compassion and kindness<br />Not to be washed out by the sea<br />But build your walls strong<br />With patience, compassion, empathy and the All-forgiving<br />To be able to overcome any obsticle<br />Firmly rooted in the sand<br />So that it can withstand anything<br />Any storm….any wind<br />Bare your souls to God<br />That no matter what difficulties <br />He will bring you peace of mind<br />Always look at each other<br />No matter how old you become<br />Like the day you first laid your eyes<br />On each other<br />The day you fell in love…and always every day<br />You will love each other more<br />And you will never see <br />The person grow older..<br />They will grow more beautiful<br />Because your love makes<br />Your Beloved more beautifulBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-91668128028616034482009-05-30T16:42:00.000-07:002009-05-30T16:50:38.733-07:00Lilies at Twilight<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhVijJeDBKwMzMR8R9QndZFnErqiyOC2ODN8oi3NUjY-VIgvczgyxsdwPDxeznaV8swe_4cXmkwWDVsserlb1fzWNnzGTvR8di9C8lwzvCWoclyF1iuBxcgoI2FdBvSDRG01ZkOCc3spC/s1600-h/Lilies-in-twilight_05-30-09.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341766941348706594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhVijJeDBKwMzMR8R9QndZFnErqiyOC2ODN8oi3NUjY-VIgvczgyxsdwPDxeznaV8swe_4cXmkwWDVsserlb1fzWNnzGTvR8di9C8lwzvCWoclyF1iuBxcgoI2FdBvSDRG01ZkOCc3spC/s320/Lilies-in-twilight_05-30-09.jpg" border="0" /></a> The lily pads are purple to reflect the setting sun. The water is orange and gold to reflect the last rays of the sun. I was inspired by Monet’s water lilies and wanted to try my own rendition. The water lily is the national flower of Bangladesh.<br /><br /><div></div>Bushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-773565219647421902009-02-11T21:52:00.001-08:002009-05-30T16:51:40.059-07:00No More War!The woman sings in her kitchen<br />Children play outside before dinner<br />Husbands come home from work...tired<br />Some from fields, factories or office<br />Strikes up a conversation with his wife<br />Gathers his children in his arms<br />As they sit and eat together<br />All beneath a late afternoon sun<br />Which shines on us all<br />The sun does not discriminate<br /><br />But now silence...<br />Except for bombs<br />Beneath the sun<br />Lies makeshift graves<br />Of men who will never come home again<br />Children who will never again to feel his arms<br />Widows will wail instead of sing<br />No longer a kitchen...no longer a Home<br />Children and women unprotected<br />Just to disease and hunger<br />Nameless...faceless<br />As if it were a mistake to be born<br /><br />It could be Palestine, Iraq, Afghanistan, Kashmir<br />Places we once called Home<br />Burned beyond recognition<br /><br />When we will pass away<br />There will be no color to identify ourselves<br />There will only be One Reality<br />Our feet and hands will speak<br />Bear witness<br />To what we have done to our fellow manBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-1069950275085630482009-02-11T21:46:00.000-08:002009-02-11T21:48:13.961-08:00The Magnolia Tree<span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The Magnolia Tree<br /><br />Here lies my daughter in my arms<br />Another child lies dying<br />Because of war<br />In her mother's arms<br />While the world<br />Trembles aggressively<br />Yet, still the magnolias<br />Sway calmly unaware<br />With the confines of my garden<br />As the seasons casually unfolds themselves<br />Since I was a child<br />I am tired of watching these pages turn<br />My time a routine...cut into sections<br />Watching my face grow older<br />Not keeping my youthful promises<br /><br />Here lies my daughter in my arms<br />Watching in fascination<br />The magnolias so unearthly pink<br />Bloom so fully within a week<br />To her a week is endless<br />But to this week will be unnoticed by me<br />Where is my cause...my duty<br />To be blinded by the mundane<br />I want to so much take these dying children home<br />Claim the homeless...feed the starving<br />Rock them in my arms at night<br />Empathize with their mother's grief<br />Realize their small lives<br /><br />Here lies my daughter in my arms<br />The wind has blown at the end of the week<br />The now rotting blossoms<br />To the ground<br />She notices....asks why they have fallen<br />Yes...child, another spring has passed<br />The world is unsafe...and I am helpless<br />I feel that I can do nothing</span></span>Bushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-58269551844886918022009-01-23T15:42:00.000-08:002009-02-11T21:17:37.517-08:00A Piece of MeThe stars have fallen down in worship<br />And between the stars<br />There is so much longing<br />And you have become a piece of me<br />Buried beneath the muscle of my heart<br />The nightingale cries<br />And the wind blows through<br />Moonlit trees<br />As I sit here on this prayer rug<br />All of nature rushes into me<br />The leaves, the trees, the vines<br />Enter the windows<br />And wrap around me<br />I want this marriage<br />Between you and I<br />That I have imagined<br />And not to be a facet of the dream<br />But to be a part of the Real<br />Beyond ritual and culture<br />The false reality of day<br />Blinds me<br />Despite the beauty of your signs<br />At night..all the masks drop off<br />You are closer than the juggler vein<br />Of my neck<br />I tremble with love and fragility<br />As I prostrate myself<br />Before youBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-70855871423585234812009-01-23T14:51:00.000-08:002009-02-11T20:55:56.417-08:00Finding HomeEmpty hours<br />Like starless nights<br />Filled with longing...longing<br />For something more<br />The painful cold<br />Only to imagine you<br />Within the corner of my heart<br />Cold...cold<br />Bitter cold<br />I am trembling<br />This winter seems<br />To never end<br /><br />I dream of spring<br />Beneath moonlit skies<br />Orion in South<br />Like a father<br />Looking down<br />Gardens in moonlight<br />Wildflowers like lace<br />Upon fields<br />I dream of caves<br />Standing waist deep<br />In healing waters<br />My head bowed down in worship<br />And I have learned<br />How to profoundly love<br />As your light<br />Envelopes me<br />I know that you will remain<br />With me....<br />And within my heart<br />You will find a HomeBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3790759651799097293.post-88124788724423810292008-09-23T14:10:00.000-07:002008-09-23T14:25:16.851-07:00Muir Woodsmuir woods<br />I am walking hand in hand within this tall woods with you<br />At first, it is covered in mist and fog<br />High upon a mountain top<br />I had to search for You<br />I had to make the twisted climb<br />With much effort<br />The picture of You and I together<br />I held so tenderly within my youth<br />Looking at thoe early mornings<br />All contrasting and soft colors<br />I had yearned for his tender handhold<br />I had yearned to find You<br />Within the clock of Nature<br />For You were home to me<br />Within the Walled Entrance<br />Of Eternal Acceptance<br />Taste of the Light<br />I wanted so badly<br />For You...For only You<br />Many paths I took the wrong directions<br />Manny times finding myself<br />At the bottom again<br />Many times feeliing hopeless<br />Feeling he tears within my mouth<br />But to me..the struggle was worth it<br />If it would guarantee your love<br />For this solitary, imperfect pilgrim<br />If it would guarentee what I searched for<br />My whole life<br />Then the struggle is worth it<br />To have you in Reality<br />And not in a dream<br />Or to be deceived by others<br />but to be with You in that mist filled<br />Sun-shafted forest forever<br />That is my dreamBushrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09845898700664227629noreply@blogger.com0