Healing whole Dr British Pendu

📚 📙🖋
Creative scientist trying to find their place, their passion, their purpose. Trying to fall back in love with words & life, a day at a time. ♥

[Healing whole Dr British Pendu @ms_pendu]

“The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.”

—Ben Okri

♥♥♥

via @SoledadFrancis

[ONLY POEMS @onlypoemsmag]

buttons for writers ☆彡

[#L3Xpressions @AlexisAffirms]

“Gather with creatives. May your life be a sacred work of art.” ~@drthema

[Healing whole Dr British Pendu @ms_pendu]

Lollllllllllllllllllllllll 😅😂🤣🫢🫢🫢

[Healing whole Dr British Pendu @ms_pendu]

Do you remember when you joined X? I do! #MyXAnniversary

[Healing whole Dr British Pendu @ms_pendu]

Uffffffffffffffffffffffffff my heart, my heart!!! 🙏🏽🤲🏽🥹🥹🥹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[Mind Essentials @Mind_Essentials]

He smiled first. Then collapsed inside.

[Healing whole Dr British Pendu @ms_pendu]

پریتم ایسی پریت نہ کریو
جیسی پیڑ کھجور
دھوپ لگے تو سایہ نا ھی
بھوک لگے، پھل دُور
پریت کبیرا ایسی کریو
جیسی کرے کپاس
جیو تو تن کو ڈھانپے
مرن نہ چھوڑے ساتھ
پریت نہ کیجیئو پنچھی جیسی
جل سوکھے اُڑ جائے
پریت تو کیجیئو مچھلی جیسی
جل سوکھے مر جائے
- بھگت کبیر
#bhagatkabirji #love

[Dr. Ezzideen @ezzingaza]

A few moments ago, my phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
I answered.

“Is this Dr. Ezzideen?”
“Yes,” I said. “Go ahead.”

He spoke politely, almost carefully.
“I got your number from someone.
They told me you might be able to help me.”

Then he paused.. and added:
“Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not asking for money.
I just .. have a problem. And maybe you can help.”
I told him to go on.

He took a breath.
“My daughter is six years old.”

There was a weight in his voice even before he continued.
“Two years ago, during the war, she was injured.
Her face.. was badly burned. Her cheek .. most of it.”
“She has had two reconstructive surgeries. Both of them failed.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.
“She was four when it happened,” he said quietly.
“Now she’s six.”
“She has started to understand.”
That sentence stayed with me.
She has started to understand.

He continued:
“She is being bullied by other children.”
“She feels ashamed when people look at her.”
“Even on Eid .. she refused to go outside.” “She told us she is not as beautiful as the other children.”

He stopped for a second, then added, his voice breaking:
“She cries when she looks at herself in the mirror.”
“She refuses to take pictures .. completely.”

I could almost see her.
A six-year-old girl,
is standing in front of a mirror,
trying to understand why her face is different.
Trying to understand why the world looks at her differently.
Trying to understand how something that happened before she even knew what war was .. has now become part of who she is.

At six years old,
she is already learning shame.
Already learning to hide.
Already learning that the world can be cruel to what it does not understand.

The father said something I cannot forget:
“I feel like I am watching my daughter’s life collapse in front of me.”
He was not asking for sympathy.
He was asking for a chance.

“Anything,” he said.
“Anything that could help her get a referral to leave..
maybe somewhere they can treat her..
maybe save her future before it’s taken from her.”

War does not end when the bombs stop. Sometimes it continues..

in the face of a child who no longer recognises herself,
in the silence of a girl who refuses to be seen,
in the tears, she hides from everyone,
except the mirror.

She is six years old.

And instead of dreaming about toys.. she is learning how to live with a face that the world has already judged.

There is a kind of injustice that kills instantly.
And there is a kind that stays.. and grows quietly inside a child.

This is the second kind.

Sometimes, what a child needs is not something extraordinary.

Just a chance,
to be seen without fear,
to be treated,
to grow up without carrying a wound that the world keeps reopening.

And sometimes, that chance begins with someone choosing to care.

#WoundedGaza

[🍂 @Lovandfear]

this hits too close to home rn

[🍂 @Lovandfear]

When Khaled Hosseini wrote “a man’s heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn't like a mother's womb. It won't bleed. It won't stretch to make room for you.” I had to stop, put the book down and breathe because never had a sentence knocked the breath out of me like that did.

[Tom Snarsky @TomSnarsky]

Slow / to learn,

William Bronk

[Joseph Fasano @Joseph_Fasano_]

I love this little message to all writers 🕯️

[Healing whole Dr British Pendu @ms_pendu]

🙏🏽🤲🏽🥹🥹🥹

[J.C @jessaricc]

“Her wings are cut and then she is blamed for not knowing how to fly."
— Simone de Beauvoir

[Joseph Fasano @Joseph_Fasano_]

This is everything.

[ChiefHerbalist @HerbalistChief]

You are NATURE! everything is connected.

[LiteraryVienna @LiteraryVienna]

Mascha Kaléko

[✒️ @Literariium]

so soft it hurts

[Yoon @nicoscosc]

“Le silence éternel de ces espaces infinis m’effraie.”

(Pascal, Pensées)

[Folklore of Scotland @StephenGeoRae]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping...

~ from The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe, #botd 1809

art: The Raven by Gustave Doré

[Elle Lookbook @EvaLovesDesign]

In Japanese, "tsundoku" means collecting books and letting them pile up, not for neglect, but for the joy of knowing they're there, full of untold stories.