ᑭᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ♡

Patriotic 🇵🇰 | Shia ☪️ | #ISOPakistan l #cricketLover

[ᑭᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ♡ @M_abbas725]

1400 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗴𝗼 𝗮 𝗠𝗮𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗛𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗻ع !
🥺💔
#محرم_1444
#muharram2022

[Seemab Zahra @seemab_zahra_]

Such was my leader. Will never forget Agha 💔

[Munir 🇱🇧🇵🇸 @JnoubiSyrian]

God have mercy on Sayyed Khamenei's soul

[سید علیރ @SAM_121472]

▪️ O Imam Mahdi as of our Time, grant us martyrdom in Your way, and grant us an end as blessed as our martyred leader Sayyid Ali Khamenei🕊️

#قومى_زبان #دیدار_آخر #Iran #Pakistan

[IRANاردو @IRN_URDU]

ہر آنکھ اشک بار 💔
🔹تہران کے مصلیٰ امام خمینی (رح) میں مہدی رسولی کی شاعری پڑھنے کے چند لمحات۔

[ᑭᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ♡ @M_abbas725]

13th Muharram the Burial of the Martyrs

The burial day of the holy bodies of Imam Husaynع and His loyal companions after being left on the land of Karbala for three days.

#تدفین_شہدائے_کربلا

[سید علیރ @SAM_121472]

خاکِ کربلا نے جب لاشوں کو گود میں لیا، ہر ذرّہ اشک بن کے شہیدوں پر رو دیا۔🥺

#تدفین_شہدائے_کربلا

[Shia Visuals @ShiaVisuals]

Same tragedy. Different words. Different emotions.

What Karbala sounds like in Urdu, Arabic, and Persian—and what each language reveals about memory and mourning.

[Narrator @GrandTarikh]

Imam Hussain ibn Ali AS.

By the early afternoon of Ashura, the Imam stood in a field that had taken everyone from him. Since dawn he had carried, with his own hands, the bodies of men he had grown up loving and children he had raised as his own. Habib. Muslim ibn Awsajah. Zuhair. Hurr. Ali al-Akbar. Aun and Muhammad. Qasim. Abbas. And, in the final hour, his own infant son, whose blood he had caught in his palm before burying him in the sand.

There was no one left to carry now. He stood alone, in white clothes marked everywhere with the blood of everyone he had loved.

He went back to the tents one final time.

He went first to the tent of his son, Ali ibn al-Husayn, Zayn al-Abideen, who lay there unconscious with fever, too weak to stand, let alone fight. The Imam woke him gently. His son opened his eyes and saw his father standing over him, dressed in white stained everywhere with blood. He asked about Ali Akbar. The Imam told him: "My son, do not ask me about anyone else. Everyone is gone, except for you and me." His son tried to rise, asking for a sword so he could go and help. The Imam would not allow it. He told him there was a different jihad still ahead of him, one that required patience rather than a blade, one that would ask him to lead a broken family through what was still coming. He gave him his final instructions. Stay patient. Tell the people the truth of what happened here. Remember me whenever you drink water.

Then he turned to find his sister.

What passed between Imam Hussain AS and Sayyida Zainab SA in those final minutes belongs to her more than to anyone else, and we will tell her story in full when we reach it. What the sources agree on is this: he asked her to be patient, to try not to let her grief be seen, and he placed into her hands, without needing to say it outright, the leadership of everyone who would survive him.

He gathered the children. He held his young daughter close. He moved among the women of his household one final time, looking at each of them, the sources say, with eyes that could not stop themselves from filling with tears even as he tried to remain composed for their sake.

Then he walked to his horse, Zuljanah, the same horse the Prophet ﷺ himself had once gifted him as a child, an animal so bonded to him over the course of his life that the sources describe it lowering itself to the ground the very first time the young Hussain AS wished to climb onto its back.

The horse had carried him back and forth across that field since dawn, carrying the weight of everybody he had brought home. It is said that when he tried to mount it this final time, it would not move, as though it understood, in whatever way an animal understands, that this ride had no return built into it.

His daughter clung to its legs and would not let go.

He gently freed himself from her, and rode out, alone, toward an army that had already taken everyone he loved.

What followed is recorded plainly in the earliest chronicles. Imam Hussain AS, completely alone, fought with a courage that stunned the men sent to kill him. Even hardened soldiers, men who had killed without hesitation all day, found themselves unwilling to be the one who closed in on him directly. He held off the army that surrounded him for a length of time no single, exhausted, grieving man should have been able to manage.

When the time for prayer arrived, even in the middle of this, he stopped to pray. Some of the enemy mocked the very idea that his prayer would be accepted. He prayed anyway, the special prayer of one in fear and danger, because some things do not stop simply because death is close.

He was wounded again and again. Stones. Arrows. Spears. The sources record more than sixty wounds across his body by the time it was over. At one point he made his way toward the Euphrates one last time, not for himself, but still thinking, even then, of the thirst of the children behind him. An arrow struck him in the mouth. He pulled it out himself and continued fighting.

Eventually, weakened beyond what anybody could sustain, he fell from his horse.

The army closed in around him on the ground. Even then, some hesitated, unwilling to be the one remembered for what came next. It was Sinan ibn Anas, by the account preserved through Hamid ibn Muslim, who struck him at the time of Asr. Other accounts name Shimr ibn dhi al-Jawshan as the one who finished it, severing his head while the Imam was prostrate, his forehead already on the ground in worship.

Shimr was no reluctant or conflicted man that day. He had spent the entire siege as one of its most eager and merciless agents, the same man who had pressed Umar ibn Sa'd to attack when others hesitated, who had tried to set fire to the very tent sheltering the women and children, and who would go on to be remembered as one of the most cursed names in history. Whatever passed through his mind in that final moment, it was not mercy, and it was not reluctance born of conscience. It was a man finishing, without hesitation, what he had spent days working to bring about.

It was Friday, the tenth of Muharram, 61 AH.

The earliest sources record what is said to have happened in the heavens and the earth in that instant. Darkness. A trembling of the ground. A red rain. A voice, heard by some, saying that an Imam, son of an Imam, had been unjustly killed, the one who had cared for the poor, the sick, the widowed, and the orphaned, butchered without cause.

His body was stripped. His shoes, his sword, even the tattered shirt he had worn so the looters would have less to take, all of it taken. He was trampled, as Ibn Ziyad had specifically ordered, by the horses of the same men who had just killed him.

Zuljanah did not flee from any of it. The devotional tradition tells us the horse circled its fallen master, drawing arrows meant for the Imam's body onto its own, before finally turning and running back alone toward the tents, blood soaked, saddle empty and twisted to one side. When Sayyida Zainab SA and the women saw it approaching with no rider, they understood before a single word was spoken. They ran out toward the field, uncovered and wailing, needing no messenger to tell them what an empty saddle already had.

He was sixty years old, by most accounts. He had spent every one of those years, by the testimony of everyone who knew him, exactly the way he spent his last morning. Praying when it would have been easier not to. Giving water to enemies who came to him thirsty. Refusing to let injustice pass simply because resisting it would cost him everything.

It did cost him everything.

We have told you, across two months and dozens of names, what that cost actually was. Every companion. Every nephew. Every son. His own infant child. And finally, himself, alone, on a field he had purchased with his own money so that what happened on it would always belong to him and never to the empire that surrounded him.

A grandson of the Prophet ﷺ, the child once carried in his arms at Mubahila, the heir to the Wilayat declared at Ghadir, walked out alone into a field of thousands, having buried his own son with his own hands an hour before, and did not turn back.

إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعونَ
"Indeed, we belong to Allah, and to Him we shall return."

#YaHussain
#Karbala

[سید علیރ @SAM_121472]

The night was the hardest and heaviest night for the family of Hussain as..💔

#شام_غریباں

[من انقلابی ام @ManInqelabiyam1]

إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعونَ

اَلّلھُمَ لَعَنَ قَتلَتَ اَلحُسَیِنَؑ َوَ اُولاَدُ الَحُسِینؑ وَ اَصحَابُ الحُسینؑ علیہ السّلام

[ᑭᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ♡ @M_abbas725]

"إِنَّا لِلَّهِ وَإِنَّا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ"

أَعْظَمَ الله اُجُورَنا بِمُصابِنا بِالحُسَيْنِ عَلَيْهِ السَّلامُ وَجَعَلَنا وَإِيَّاكُمْ مِنْ الطَّالِبِينَ بِثارِهِ مَعَ وَلِيِّهِ الإمام المَهْدِيّ مِنْ آلِ مُحَمَّدٍ عَلَيْهِمُ السَّلامُ..
#ياحسين

[ᑭᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ♡ @M_abbas725]

اَلّلھُمَ لَعَنَ قَتلَتَ اَلحُسَیِنَؑ َوَ اُولاَدُ الَحُسِینؑ وَ اَصحَاب الحُسینؑ علیہ السّلام

#شب_عاشور

[ضياء أبو طعام | حساب جديد @abu_taam44516]

من عجائب #عاشوراء:
أنّ جيشًا كاملًا خاف من رجلٍ واحد كان يعلم أنّه ذاهبٌ إلىٰ الشَّهادة.

أن صرخةَ ألا من ناصرٍ ينصرنا كانت لوحدها انتصاراً مؤجلاً للمستقبل.

أن الحرب لم يكن دافعها تغيير السلطة بل غربلة الناس.

عظم الله لكم الاجر بمصاب أبي عبد الله #الحسين

[Reza Zainab @zainabReza_13]

This is not IRAN nor IRAQ
its my beloved KASHMIR 🍁

#8thMuharram

[Khamenei Voice @Khamenei_Voice]

Muharam Insights

[Syeda Farwa Batool @Syedafarwa110]

It was only the patience of Imam Hussain (as) that holds the body of his little innocent child of six months, which was martyred merciless with a heavy arrow that slaughtered his small neck and also his ears by heartless archers of Yazid. Lanat Bar Hurmala Beshumaar! 💔

[Haider Ali 🇵🇰🇵🇸 @muntazireimam84]

Lebanese latmiyahs are so beautiful, I cannot thank Allah enough for understanding them

[Al Hasan ³¹³ الحسن @DrAlHasan313]

مراحل تطور ضريح الإمام الحسين (عليه السلام) على مر السنين 🖤

[Shia Visuals @ShiaVisuals]

On the Day of Ashura, when the camp of Imam Hussain (AS) had been deprived of water for days and the cries of thirsty children filled the tents, Imam Hussain (AS) brought Ali Asghar (AS) before the enemy army. He held the infant in his arms and appealed to them, saying that if they considered him guilty, then at least give water to this innocent child. Instead of showing mercy, Hurmala ibn Kahil al-Asadi shot a three-pronged arrow. The arrow struck the neck of Ali Asghar (AS), martyring him in the arms of his father. Imam Hussain (AS) caught the blood of his infant son and raised it toward the sky, submitting to the will of Allah. The martyrdom of Ali Asghar (AS) is remembered as one of the most heartbreaking moments of Karbala, symbolizing the cruelty of the oppressors and the ultimate sacrifice made by the family of the Prophet (SA)

[Shia Visuals @ShiaVisuals]

Muharram in Najaf - Holy Shrine of Imam Ali (AS)