A Sufi Reflection on Love, Surrender, and the Vanishing of the Self By Anosha Zereh When I first thought about intimacy, I imagined it as something reserved for romantic moments or private conversations. Over time, I came to see that intimacy is far more vast. It is not confined to relationship—it is a way of حضور, of being present enough to let another soul touch your truth.

To my sisters in Iran and Afghanistan— I write to you tonight not as a distant observer, but as one whose heart beats with yours. If I could, I would sit beside each of you tonight—on rooftops in Tehran, in courtyards in Herat, in dimly lit rooms in Kabul where the curtains stay half‑closed—and place your tired hands between my own. I would say, before anything else: you are not alone, and you have never been forgotten. I know that some days the weight is unbearable: the clo

On being a Muslim woman between Kabul, Tehran, and San Francisco Bay Area By Anosha Zereh When I say I am Muslim, I am not offering you a party, a passport, or a political program. I am naming the wound and the wonder at the center of my being — the place where God looks at God through these borrowed eyes.

A people’s letter from Iran, Afghanistan, and the borderlands, this piece sits with Jalal Al-e Ahmad’s warning about Gharbzadegi and asks what liberation means when it is imposed from above versus awakened from within. It is a meditation on tyrants and martyrs, Western “saviors,” and the quiet, vast freedom that still breathes beneath our borders and our hardest days.

“No More Girls”: How Afghan Daughters Are Being Erased from Public Life

Enhanced Version: Stewardship, Dignity, and a Lineage Older Than Doctrine Long before religion wore names, humans already knew—they were not owners of the world, but guests within it. The Islamic teaching of khalifa is not a new revelation. It is a remembering—an echo of an ancient human responsibility that has traveled through nomadic memory, Zoroastrian ethics, and Islamic consciousness.

My Artistry: Intuitive, Afghan-Born, Rooted in Wholeness The stories I write today rise from Afghan soil, but they follow the path of intuition rather than tradition. They come from memory, from exile, from longing — but also from a quieter place beneath all of that.

A story of ancestry, myth, and the wild feminine that refuses to be named.

A lyrical reflection on the Afghanistan the world never sees—childhood gardens, family, memory, and the quiet grief of diaspora. An invitation to witness a different Kabul.

For those who pray in many tongues—or in holy silence—this meditation gathers the temple bell, the call to prayer, the rosary’s hush, and the breath that forms Om into one warm cup of morning presence. Arrive as you are; read slowly, and pause where your breath naturally pauses.

The world may see the kiss, but we know it is the honest conversation that calls us back when we drift. The world may notice the embrace…

"Welcome to my world: a home for storytelling, poetry, and light meditative Sufi prose—a sanctum, a hush and a heartbeat passed palm to palm across the centuries. Night leans close; the fire answers the stars; elders loosen skeins of courage and tenderness, wisdom spun from labor and loss.”

Step into the sacred seam where dreams and reality intertwine. This blog explores the mystical practice of barzakh—inviting you to pause, imagine, and discover the Divine presence shimmering in every ordinary breath. Where spirit and matter meet, you’ll find your heart’s quiet doorway to wonder.

Part II