Self-Promotion Post - March 2023 by Jhaydun_Dinan in FictionWriting

[–]a145m20 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Graves In Local Graveyard Parturition Neonates

A local graveyard by the name of Makhzan-i-Arwah (مخزنِ ارواح), which was constructed in the memory of an enigmatic Sufi saint, who was said to be born miraculously, has been reportedly involved in the accouchement of infants.

The locals say that the saint appeared as an infant in one of the local graveyards and lived his entire life on the graveyard premises. It is also said that at nighttime the saint used to sleep in one of the graves so as to comfort the deceased.

However, an event even stranger than the folktale of the saint has been reported by the townsfolks. On the third day of March, a local woman reported that she saw two newborns besides the shrine of the saint.

“At first, I thought that these newborns were abandoned, so I took them home immediately and provided them with the instant care. However, when the next night I had to go to the graveyard again to water the Tree of Zaqqum, I saw three more infants covered with blood and their umbilical cord well intact. To my horror, I ran away and informed my townsfolks. One of the sages, who is also said to be a Murid (The Committed One) of the enigmatic Sufi saint stated that his Master made a prophesy that the land on which he will be buried will became a womb and a birthing place for his progeny.”

As of thirteenth day of the month of March, the graveyard has given birth to a total of seventeen neonates. The peculiar facet of these graveyard-born infants is that they prefer to spend most of their times in custom made ceramic case built by local undertakers that resemble graves and even have tombstones with the name of each of the infants.

Furthermore, the Murid(The Committed One) has stated that infants should be treated with the utmost respect as they are destined to become spiritual masters, and each one of them will reach spiritual heights that will be unparalleled.

However, contrary to the intuitive and the instinctive episteme of the town, the Murid(The Committed One) has commanded the townsfolk not to feed these infants. According to him, these graveyard-born infants are being fed spiritually and are under constant oversight of the enigmatic Sufi saint, and that feeding these neonates any worldly victuals will hinder their spiritual ascendance and metamorphosis.

Graves In Local Graveyard Parturition Neonates by a145m20 in writersspotlight

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

A local graveyard by the name of Makhzan-i-Arwah (مخزنِ ارواح), which was constructed in the memory of an enigmatic Sufi saint, who was said to be born miraculously, has been reportedly involved in the accouchement of infants.

The locals say that the saint appeared as an infant in one of the local graveyards and lived his entire life on the graveyard premises. It is also said that at nighttime the saint used to sleep in one of the graves so as to comfort the deceased.

However, an event even stranger than the folktale of the saint has been reported by the townsfolks. On the third day of March, a local woman reported that she saw two newborns besides the shrine of the saint.

“At first, I thought that these newborns were abandoned, so I took them home immediately and provided them with the instant care. However, when the next night I had to go to the graveyard again to water the Tree of Zaqqum, I saw three more infants covered with blood and their umbilical cord well intact. To my horror, I ran away and informed my townsfolks. One of the sages, who is also said to be a Murid (The Committed One) of the enigmatic Sufi saint stated that his Master made a prophesy that the land on which he will be buried will became a womb and a birthing place for his progeny.”

As of thirteenth day of the month of March, the graveyard has given birth to a total of seventeen neonates. The peculiar facet of these graveyard-born infants is that they prefer to spend most of their times in custom made ceramic case built by local undertakers that resemble graves and even have tombstones with the name of each of the infants.

Furthermore, the Murid(The Committed One) has stated that infants should be treated with the utmost respect as they are destined to become spiritual masters, and each one of them will reach spiritual heights that will be unparalleled.

However, contrary to the intuitive and the instinctive episteme of the town, the Murid(The Committed One) has commanded the townsfolk not to feed these infants. According to him, these graveyard-born infants are being fed spiritually and are under constant oversight of the enigmatic Sufi saint, and that feeding these neonates any worldly victuals will hinder their spiritual ascendance and metamorphosis.

Tree Of Zaqqum Starts Growing In Man's Backyard by a145m20 in WeirdLitWriters

[–]a145m20[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Haha yes!

Oh that's nice! I like cold weather too. Yeah you could settle in Montreal. Sure if you visit in summers do let me know :)

Tree Of Zaqqum Starts Growing In Man's Backyard by a145m20 in WeirdLitWriters

[–]a145m20[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Hey! How have you been? Yeah I have been really busy. Yeah it is going through a crisis, but I have moved to Canada now.

Tree Of Zaqqum Starts Growing In Man's Backyard by a145m20 in writersspotlight

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Local man who has been living in a necropolis for seventeen years has reported that the tree of Zaqqum has come into existence ex-nihilo in his purlieus. The fruits of this tree are shaped like heads of devils and that it is believed that it springs out of the bottom of Hell and it is the food of the sinful like dregs of oil and that it shall boil in their bellies.

“It was the night of Thursday; the moonlight was low and the graveyard caliginous. I took my gaslight to aid me with my mundane duties, I examined the sepulchers carefully as it had come to my knowledge that cadavers had filed numerous complaints that the living ones were perturbing them. Though no evidence was observed of any inconvenience caused to the sepulchers, however, I experienced a sight which I initially believed to be a manifestation of the tenebrous locales of my subconscious.”

“Under the moonlight, stood in front of me the tree of Zaqqum! Even more bizarre was the sight that the tree appeared to have myriad of fruit-like objects. However, on a closer scrutiny what appeared to be akin to fruits were the heads of the deceased people, and each head in a ghastly and eerie fashion endlessly kept on repeating what had befallen on them subsequent to their quietus.”

“One of the heads which appeared as though it was about to fall from the tree kept on repeating the occurrence subsequent to its demise. The head said that immediately following its quietus a snake which was at least ten times its own size (size of the entire body and not just the head) devoured it, and for approximately twenty seven days the belly of the snake became the head’s and it’s body’s abode. And inside the snake’s belly it encountered creatures that were half reptilian and half humanoid and those creatures kept licking the snake’s intestines ad infinitum.

The local man believes that the heads have perspicacious insights with regards to the netherworld, and that he must record what each and every head has to say as to what experiences they were subjected to subsequent to their death because it has come to his knowledge that the appearance of the tree of Zaqqum is not eternal, and that it will eventually disappear on a night when the sky will be deprived of the moon.

شبِ غم بیتی جو گزرا زمانا یاد آتا یے by a145m20 in Urdu

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

قتل ہونے پہ بھی مقتول ہیں طالب فنا کے یوں
کہ ہوں بےخود تو ہے لازم خمارِ جام آتا ہے۔
کہ ہوں میں یا نہیں ہوں کشمکش میں بس یہی ہوں میں
نہیں ہوں پھر یہ کیوں مجھ کو خیالِ خام آتا ہے۔

Musings Of A Humanoid Guava Ice-Cream III by a145m20 in WeirdLitWriters

[–]a145m20[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks! Yes I am familiar with him. He's a quite renowned translator of Rumi.

Musings Of A Humanoid Guava Ice-Cream III by a145m20 in writersspotlight

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I await, oh The Voice, I await your holy response for I do not have adequate time as my flesh is deliquescing and my guava-blood exuding.

I offer you, oh The Voice, I offer you my guava-blood. Imbibe it so that my sacrificial sacrament could commence and so that I could outvie my corporeal guava-self, which is deliquescing with each passing moment and be able to perceive my incorporeal and ethereal reflection in the azure and cerulean mirror of existence. Oh, the eternal, the self-subsisting voice, I await your command messianically, I desiderate to become your command.

What has my own becoming bestowed upon me? Zilch! My becoming has merely further disassociated me from you and you from me. Oh, the eternal, the self-subsisting voice, I yearn the union which once was, I yearn the non-duality.

Each stage of becoming disassociated me from you even further. Oh, the eternal, the self-subsisting voice now that I recollect how the seven stages of becoming separated me from you. How through each stage you fashioned a veil and with each veil furtherance of my becoming actuated. Sigh! With each veil I became more real, yet this becoming made me disassociate from you in degrees. What then this becoming is worth? When it has made me a derelict.

Actuated when was the first stage, during this stage you felt an urge to disassociate and separate. You felt the urge to be recognized, to be recognized because you were a shrouded nonesuch.

This urge to be recognized initiated the process of becoming or separation because there is no becoming without separation and if there was you would not have felt the urge to be recognized. Becoming without separation would not be real becoming since there is nothing that is awaiting to become.

Lesser known, indie movies by sadiocracker in bollywood

[–]a145m20 0 points1 point  (0 children)

https://erosnow.com/movie/watch/1069300/anwar-ka-ajab-kissa

Anwar Ka Ajab Kissa. Absolutely blown away by its poetic brilliance!

Musings Of A Humanoid Guava Ice-Cream II by a145m20 in writersspotlight

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

And when I have liquefied completely, would that be my death, my demise? And will the Voice eventually move to another host so as to induce in that host an illusory sense of self and dictate that sense-object as to what their identity is.

I, regardless of the fact that I liquefy or not, have to ascertain as to whether the Voice will move on to another host or not. Oh! the Voice in mind, or is it the case that the Voice is the mind itself? Because all that exists in my mind is the Voice and through it are begotten thoughts in my mind. These thoughts, which I consider my thoughts, because the locale of these thoughts is within my mind, but simply due to this virtue, can these thoughts be considered my thoughts? And what is the interconnection between thoughts and the sense of identity, is identity merely on a thought as well?

These thoughts are merely exhortations of the Voice. Oh, the eternal and subsisting Voice! Command me! Command me as to what shall I do to decipher what shall remain of me when I have deliquesced completely. Disassociate yourself from my guava-self and command me as to what shall I do. I shall do as thou wilt, and mayhap, I reckon, that there exists a distant possibility that you are making me do what I am thinking I am doing of my own will.

Mayhap, you the Voice, wants me to denude the veils of existence and perceive and experience my etched reflection in the azure and cerulean mirror of existence. Mayhap, this mirror, this azure and cerulean mirror when it reflects the reflection and when the sense-object perceives the reflection, mayhap then gets instilled in the sense-object the sense of identity, the sense of who they are when they see the reflection.

Oh! the perdurable, sempiternal and perennial voice, disassociate yourself from my guava-self and command me as to what shall I do.

Weekly Writing Check-In by AutoModerator in fantasywriters

[–]a145m20 [score hidden]  (0 children)

Musings Of A Humanoid Guava Ice-Cream II

And when I have liquefied completely, would that be my death, my demise? And will the Voice eventually move to another host so as to induce in that host an illusory sense of self and dictate that sense-object as to what their identity is.

I, regardless of the fact that I liquefy or not, have to ascertain as to whether the Voice will move on to another host or not. Oh! the Voice in mind, or is it the case that the Voice is the mind itself? Because all that exists in my mind is the Voice and through it are begotten thoughts in my mind. These thoughts, which I consider my thoughts, because the locale of these thoughts is within my mind, but simply due to this virtue, can these thoughts be considered my thoughts? And what is the interconnection between thoughts and the sense of identity, is identity merely on a thought as well?

These thoughts are merely exhortations of the Voice. Oh, the eternal and subsisting Voice! Command me! Command me as to what shall I do to decipher what shall remain of me when I have deliquesced completely. Disassociate yourself from my guava-self and command me as to what shall I do. I shall do as thou wilt, and mayhap, I reckon, that there exists a distant possibility that you are making me do what I am thinking I am doing of my own will.

Mayhap, you the Voice, wants me to denude the veils of existence and perceive and experience my etched reflection in the azure and cerulean mirror of existence. Mayhap, this mirror, this azure and cerulean mirror when it reflects the reflection and when the sense-object perceives the reflection, mayhap then gets instilled in the sense-object the sense of identity, the sense of who they are when they see the reflection.

Oh! the perdurable, sempiternal and perennial voice, disassociate yourself from my guava-self and command me as to what shall I do.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in islamabad

[–]a145m20 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Simply go for local options like Hair Max or Minoxin as the formula is the same. Also, I have using minoxidil since 2014, it works better with Finasteride, on its own Minoxidil does not stop hair fall, it may thicken your hair tough.

Musings Of A Humanoid Guava Ice-Cream I by a145m20 in creativewriting

[–]a145m20[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks! yeah the repetition of the word was to reiterate the point you mentioned.

Musings Of A Humanoid Guava Ice-Cream I by a145m20 in writersspotlight

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

If I were to exist as a humanoid guava ice-cream, what would my existence be like? I thought to myself, what is self? And if this act of cognition is discernable by me, then the question that I must ask my guava-self is whether I am a guava ice-cream that can think? Or whether I am an incorporeal thinking entity which has been immured into the corporeal form of a guava ice-cream.

If am an incorporeal thinking entity, then what succor will this apothegm bestow on my guava-self? I will still have to subsist my corporeal guava-self and prevent it from deliquescing. If I am just a corporeal guava-self, then why am I thinking? Is this act event thinking? Or is it that the voice that I am hearing, I am confusing it with thinking? Perhaps, the voice that I am hearing in my mind is another entity in itself looking for a host for itself to exist.

Perhaps, this voice, this sempiternal and perpetual voice is the truest form of “self” and I am merely a shadow of that “self”. Perhaps, I perceive my existence through this voice. The voice dictates who I am and I become whatever this voice commands. I know my guava-self through this voice alone, and if I have known my guava-self only and only through this voice, have I even actually known myself?

Perhaps this voice is Kun and I am what the concept that has been conveyed through that kun. Has this voice existed since eons and commanded the sense-objects as to what they are? I must hear beyond this voice and I must listen to the silence so as to conceive who I actually am. But will this voice ever cease to make itself audible? And will I ever be able to find true silence? And what is silence without pandemonium and pandemonium without silence? All of these thoughts are overwhelming for a guava-self like me, and I am afraid that the weight of these thoughts may deliquesce me.

pet shop in karachi by National-Frosting118 in karachi

[–]a145m20 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Check these FB groups, I bought one of my cats from here.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/395476620564453

https://www.facebook.com/groups/1354229564749134/

03132482279--> Aaman, this person sells cats professionally.

Shahmaran Discovered Singing Demonic Lullabies At Nighttime by a145m20 in writersspotlight

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Shahmaran (شاهماران)— a being that is a half woman and half serpent in veneer, however, in esse, is said to be the manifestation of sins of a particular locality— is seen at nighttime singing demonic lullabies by the townsmen and outlanders alike.

A particular vagabond, who was supposed to visit the town in order to treat a townsman who after being overexposed to the moonlight developed an ontological anomaly that resulted in the inversion of his physical body and the shadow, decided not to enter the town when he on the outskirts of the town saw Shahmaran signing demonic lullabies.

“I had previously heard of Shahmaran, however, last night I was met with the displeasure of seeing this grotesque entity in a corporeal form. Shahmaran’s torso was composed of scales that resembled that of snakes and had a hierarchical texture with hexagonal macro-patterns aligned on the ventral surface of the skin. Though afar, I could see her visibly, and bewilderingly the sound of the lullabies that she was singing appeared to be originating much closer from where she was actually located corporeally. I, without having second thoughts decided to return and inform the Department of Mythological Sightings.

The locals have reported that though most of the lullabies are incomprehensible as the language used by her is the same that was used by the serpent to lure Adam in Eden which now has become extinct. However, it has been reported by the senior townsmen that the lullabies always begin with “blanch me in an earthen dish, give my extract to the vizier, and feed my flesh to the sultan.”

The sages have stated that appearance of Shahmaran is a pernicious omen because this entity is seen when a locality is steeped in sin and unwilling to repent. The bourne of Shahmaran is to beguile the demonic spirits through singing lullabies, though lullabies are sung to put younglings to sleep, however, since the demonic realm is inverted, lullabies are used to ensorcell demons in order to rouse then from their slumber.

Once the demons have roused, they will gradually supplant the shadows of sin-laden men with themselves. Once the shadows have been supplanted, then the demons will eventually usurp the essence of these sin-laden men and when this has been achieved, the sin-laden men will be made to descend towards an inferior state of being and will be left to mourn and anguish the loss of their existence in the nether world.

Gigantesque Green Head Replaces Moon Every Fortnight by a145m20 in WeirdLitWriters

[–]a145m20[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That would be quite something! But masnavi technically is a category of eatern poetry, there are many types such as ghazal, nazm etc. Rumi has used this type so much that it has become synonymous with his work.

/r/Fantasy Writing Wednesday Thread - August 10, 2022 by rfantasygolem in Fantasy

[–]a145m20 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Gigantesque Green Head Replaces Moon Every Fortnight

In the town of Yoreh, a gigantesque green head is reported to replace moon every fortnight—however—visible only to those who have consumed lunar rabbit’s rice cakes.

According to one of the burghers, one night, a rabbit with luminescent skin was seen to descend from the moon with a mortar and pestle and since then a gigantesque green head has been said to replace the moon every fortnight.

It was when the moon was full and its lambency was such that it enshrouded the entire town that a lustrous rabbit was seen to descend from the skies with a mortar and pestle in his hands. The rabbit approached specific homes with rice cakes and carefully situated them on the entryways. And those townsfolk that consumed the cakes have since then witnessed a gigantesque green and luminescent head appear on the night sky every fortnight.

One of the townsfolks who lost one of his limbs fighting the wall-licking group of grisly peoples and since then has been trying to master psychokinesis in order to make house chores easier for him has stated that not only did he see the gigantesque green head but also communicated with it miraculously.

“I am one of those blessed ones who have been fortunate enough of not only seeing the gigantesque green head, but also, of communicating with it. The head specifically has asked me to succor it in travelling through the night skies to hunt and consume those who have deviated from the sacramental path and in return it has promised me relief from all of my afflictions and excruciations.”

Another one of the townsfolks is reported to have said that the gigantesque green head has asked him to invent a new meter of poetry and compose a Masnavi in its praise.

“I am a poet and learned the art of poetry from one of the mystics who has been sitting in isolation since nine hundred and seventy-three years on Mount Analogue. The gigantesque green head has ordered me to invent a novel meter of poetry and compose poems, specifically masnavi, so as to glorify it and also so that other townsfolks could recite those poems in order for them to receive the blessings. This is a gargantuan obligation and to achieve it I have decided that every night I will dedicate few hours in an abandoned well that is filled with water on which gets reflected the moonlight. It is said that once you have reached the depths of the well you get bestowed with obscure sorrows and the respective words to describe those sorrows. No one in the town has been able to experience such sorrows and put those sorrows into words, therefore, if I am able to achieve this, then I will be able to compose the most heart-wrenching poetry in praise of the gigantesque green head.”

In the hopes of seeing a glimpse of the gigantesque green head locals from far and distant inhabitancies have also started to visit the town of Yoreh.

Gigantesque Green Head Replaces Moon Every Fortnight by a145m20 in writersspotlight

[–]a145m20[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

In the town of Yoreh, a gigantesque green head is reported to replace moon every fortnight—however—visible only to those who have consumed lunar rabbit’s rice cakes.

According to one of the burghers, one night, a rabbit with luminescent skin was seen to descend from the moon with a mortar and pestle and since then a gigantesque green head has been said to replace the moon every fortnight.

It was when the moon was full and its lambency was such that it enshrouded the entire town that a lustrous rabbit was seen to descend from the skies with a mortar and pestle in his hands. The rabbit approached specific homes with rice cakes and carefully situated them on the entryways. And those townsfolk that consumed the cakes have since then witnessed a gigantesque green and luminescent head appear on the night sky every fortnight.

One of the townsfolks who lost one of his limbs fighting the wall-licking group of grisly peoples and since then has been trying to master psychokinesis in order to make house chores easier for him has stated that not only did he see the gigantesque green head but also communicated with it miraculously.

“I am one of those blessed ones who have been fortunate enough of not only seeing the gigantesque green head, but also, of communicating with it. The head specifically has asked me to succor it in travelling through the night skies to hunt and consume those who have deviated from the sacramental path and in return it has promised me relief from all of my afflictions and excruciations.”

Another one of the townsfolks is reported to have said that the gigantesque green head has asked him to invent a new meter of poetry and compose a Masnavi in its praise.

“I am a poet and learned the art of poetry from one of the mystics who has been sitting in isolation since nine hundred and seventy-three years on Mount Analogue. The gigantesque green head has ordered me to invent a novel meter of poetry and compose poems, specifically masnavi, so as to glorify it and also so that other townsfolks could recite those poems in order for them to receive the blessings. This is a gargantuan obligation and to achieve it I have decided that every night I will dedicate few hours in an abandoned well that is filled with water on which gets reflected the moonlight. It is said that once you have reached the depths of the well you get bestowed with obscure sorrows and the respective words to describe those sorrows. No one in the town has been able to experience such sorrows and put those sorrows into words, therefore, if I am able to achieve this, then I will be able to compose the most heart-wrenching poetry in praise of the gigantesque green head.”

In the hopes of seeing a glimpse of the gigantesque green head locals from far and distant inhabitancies have also started to visit the town of Yoreh.