farshad
@farshad-mahmoodi
1229 Following
564 Followers
For me, the ideal Saturday means hearing the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves, sipping a cold drink, and thinking about nothing but the present moment.
Summer feels like time stretching out, like a morning yawn, and I just want to go along with it.
True peace is when you forget about the clock and lie down comfortably in the shade of the trees.
Most of my restful moments happen in nature,with the sound of birds, butterflies gently fluttering above my head, and the quiet companionship of trees.
A do-nothing Saturday, to me, means letting my mind wander freely,without any musts or shoulds.
Oh, and by the way, I recently bought that basket for short trips. It fits everything inside and looks just like the ones from old cartoonsš
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Today, Iād like to invite you to a celebration of colorsš
A place where every flower speaks the language of life, freshness, and hope.
They sit side by side , the passionate reds, the energetic yellows, the gentle pinks, and the peaceful whites.
In this little garden, nature has expressed all its emotions through blossoms, as if each color tells a story, and each flower hides a quiet smile.
Letās take a moment to walk through this colorful world and enjoy its unmatched beauty. 24 replies
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Beneath an old wall, scented with earth and memory, the hydrangea has emerged
a flower with petals like the ruffled skirts of childhood, painted in the pink of kindness and ancient rains.
It does not bloom with a shout, but with silence
quiet, unassuming, yet magnificent.
As if all the tenderness of nature had gathered within it.
Each cluster of blossoms is a mass of emotion
the kind that cannot be spoken, only seen, only felt.
Hydrangea is the child of kind soil and gentle sun.
Born of balance;
it does not long for harsh heat nor does it crave biting cold.
All it needs is a hand to water it,
a gaze to love it,
and a heart that understands its presence.
Perhaps that is why, when it grows beside a weathered, dust-stained wall,
it gently reminds us:
Beauty needs no stage. It only needs to be
in silence, in grace. 17 replies
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It cameā¦ the moment to say goodbye.
Have you ever experienced a farewell?
The kind that arrives in silence, yet leaves a weight that lingers in your heart for a long time?
Are all goodbyes bitter?
Not necessarilyā¦
As the years pass, we face more seasons of farewell. Some come with tears, some with quiet smiles, but many of them carry growth, maturityā¦ even love. Sometimes, we need to say goodbye, to someone, to a place, or even to an old version of ourselves, so we can find who we truly are once again.
So a path can open to a new beginning, a breath of fresh light.
A goodbye isnāt always an endingā¦
Sometimes, itās just a pause. A meaningful distance, to return, not as we were, but with new light in our hearts and a deeper way of seeing life.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes,
With open wings, ready for a boundless flight. 15 replies
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Today, I want to turn your hearts purple by introducing this flower.
Every time I look at it, butterflies of imagination flutter through my mind.
Its name is Oxalis Triangularis, though hearts know it as the purple shamrock, a butterfly that, instead of flying, has settled on the earth to offer beauty to life.
Its leaves, like gentle wings, open with the morning light and fold at dusk, as if theyāve learned the secret of peace in the silence of night.
It reminds us that even in stillness and simplicity, there can be grandeur
A humble beauty, born of purple silence. 19 replies
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I spend a lot of time in solitude.
The purity I find in those precious moments of being with myself is something Iāve never found anywhere else.
Sometimes I lie on the grass beneath the shade of the trees, gazing up at the sky.
On other days, I walk along the rice fields,and maybe it sounds funny, but I listen to the frogs.
Sometimes, I talk to myselfānot with words, but with thoughts that pass through my mind like a gentle breeze.
In those moments, it feels like everything gains meaning in the silence.
Within this solitude, thereās no sadness, no noiseā¦ only a quiet kind of peace that canāt be found anywhere else.
And in these simple moments, I find myselfāagain and again.
Sometimes I think solitude is a gift life gives us, to help us reconcile with ourselves.
Not to distance us from others, but to bring us closer to that inner voice that often gets lost in the worldās noise.
In this stillness, even the simplest things begin to hold meaning.
Everything is calmā¦ and yet within that silence, a whole world of feeling and unspoken words flows through.
And maybe itās in moments like these,effortless and quiet,that we truly return to ourselvesā¦
Softly, humbly, just like nature itself. 22 replies
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Today, I want to write about painā¦
The kind of pain we all carry in our hearts. Some of it, those around us can sense- maybe in a glance, maybe in our silenceā¦
But much of it stays hidden inside us for a lifetime, quiet, unspoken and without a name. It settles somewhere deep in the corners of our hearts. And only God knows how many nights we fall asleep with that same pain, and wake up with it again. Sometimes, these wounds donāt want to be forgotten. Theyāve become a part of us- apart that has made us deeper, more human, maybe even more compassionate. And so, weāve only learned to live with them, not to erase them.
The pain of war, the pain of losing loved ones, the pain of enduring injustice.
After a long time, when we finally look into the mirror carefully. We no longer see the person we used to be.
Maybe we donāt even recognize ourselves anymore. Many of us break under the weight of these silent burdens,
And only we can hear the sound of our bones shattering. Itās a kind of pain that has no remedy.
And in the end, we are left with these pains that move with us like shadows- silent, constant.
We no longer have the hope to speak them aloud, Nor the chance to let them go.
Weāve simply learned to breathe with them, carrying a weight that no one else can see.
As if some of us were given a share of life that is made only of endurance, the endurance of silence that, at times, is louder than any scream. 12 replies
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If you remember, I once told you about the puppies and their mother ā well, now theyāve grown up. When they were small, they often tried to leave their home, but now that theyāre older, I think their mother doesnāt let them go out anymore, and I find that really interesting , even when sheās not physically near them.
Today, we decided to give the whole family a bath.
When we took the first puppy to wash, their mother got very upset.
But when she saw her baby return safe and sound, she relaxed ,and the rest of the washing went much more smoothly.
That maternal instinct , itās always there, and you can feel it deeply in every living creature. 10 replies
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Living among tall trees, walking beside the rice fields, and watching the waves crash every day feels like a dream to me, a dream that smells of damp earth, where birdsong wakes me gently, and the breeze through the leaves pours peace into my veins.
In that dream, time slows down. People are simpler, smiles more honest and my heart feels lighter.
Itās as if every leaf, every wave, every grain of air whispers a quiet message:
"Be stillā¦ you are held by nature."
I wish I could stay there forever- in the endless green, the boundless blue, and the grounding embrace of the soil.
A place where dreams stay awake. 7 replies
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Fire is not merely an outer flame.
It is warmth, and itās destruction; itās light and itās shadow.
There is something of life flowing through fire: a longing to burn, to transform, to bring light where darkness has settled.
I see fire in the hearth at home
A warmth that awakens hands and draws hearts closer.
I see fire in the eyes of those who dream, who fight, and who carry on.
Fire can be recognized in anger, in the sudden outburst of pain, but there is desire in it too, a longing for change, for beginning, for rebirth.
Fire reminds us that every ending
Can be the start of something new; from ashes, the phoenix rises, and from destruction, awareness is born.
Each of us carries a flame within, and if we guide it well, it can light the path ahead. 5 replies
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Sometimes, what we see is only the surface, a simple piece in the game of life.
But within, beyond the light, in the quiet of our shadow, lies a hidden majestyā¦
The majesty of a soul that remembers its greatness, even when the world forgets.
This image reminds us:
You may appear as just a"small piece" to others, but in the depth of your being- in your silent truth- you are a queen: powerful, graceful and whole.
In a world that constantly demands external validation, this image whispers:
True greatness lies within you, not in what others see.
To be a queen is to know your worth, even when the world does notš 9 replies
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Water is more than just an element
Itās the living soul of the world. Sometimes it becomes the sea, its waves carrying both fury and calm in the same breath. Sometimes it falls as rain- the skyās quiet tears, gently tracing the face of the earth to awaken life.
Water remembers, the memory of rivers carving paths through stone, the memory of eyes watching the ocean, hearts drifting toward faraway places.
Water is soft, yet powerful. It can heal or destroy. In one moment it soothes, and in the next, it swallows whole.
We have lived in the arms of water, slept to its voice, built memories beneath its rains, and sometimes, fallen in love with its waves.
Water is alive
And with every ripple, it reminds us what it means to truly live. 7 replies
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I was thinking about war and the aftermath it always leaves behindā¦
The fears, the losses,
The sound of explosions that, even after they stop, continue echoing inside.
Eyes that no longer smile the way they used to,
Hands that hold their loved ones only in memories ,not in reality.
War doesnāt just wound bodies;
it quietly wears down the soul.
And sometimes, the silence after war
is even heavier than the war itself.
Now that a ceasefire has apparently been declared in my country,
my friends in Ukraine are still trapped in this never-ending nightmare.
The sirens still scream, the sky is still not safe,
and there are still children growing up with the sound of fear instead of lullabies.
My heart is with them ā with the mothers waiting at the door,
with the fathers trying to hide their fear,
and with all those who wake up each day and keep going, despite the pain.
War may end for a country,
but within human hearts,
it continues as long as the wounds remain unhealed.
And so, this prayer rises from deep within me:
May the day come when no one hears the sound of war again,
and may we all breathe in true peace
with a calm heart and a quiet, open sky. 10 replies
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