Did you know that the beautiful Sultan Ahmed Mosque in Istanbul, also known as "The Blue Mosque," has over 250 stained glass windows? And over 20,000 blue tiles in its interior? The mosque is open for prayer and visitors alike, so check it out for yourself if you get the chance — tag who you'd bring with! (📷: @harimaolee 📍: , Turkey)
🏆 P H I N D E R S A P P 🏆
⭕⭕⭕ use #phindersapp and tag @phinders.app for chance to be featured!
L'une des expériences les plus folles de ce voyage...Avoir accéléré pendant quelques heures dans les rues d'Osaka, de nuit, dans des kartings à la Mario Kart.... Déguisés en Mickey et Minnie🐀🐁. C'était extraordinaire, on a vraiment rigolé, et adoré voir le sourire des gens à notre passage.
Sometimes the best way to baffle them is to make moves that have no purpose, or even seem to work against you.
Remember that, Sansa, when you come to play the game.” “What … what game?” “The only game. The game of thrones."
Expecting great things from Episode 2! .
I don't usually take photos with my Canon, basically because it's heavy, and a mobile camera works just well.
But here, inside my mobile screen, is a photo we(me and the tripod),took infront of the Taj Mahal, where I'm just candidly ecstatic(😜)with the white mausoleum and the wind is just candidly whipping up my dupatta🤥, and I happened to be captured by an accidental timer in the camera.
It was not as if we planned this, or that people were looking behind their backs, wondering what this girl was really upto 🤐. To weird unplanned moments that make great memories.
To impromptu travel plans, and the amazing people who make it possible.
Investigative journalist, Jary Joseph, has penned down this non fiction book A Feast of Vultures: The Hidden Business of Democracy in India, which examines, documents & draws attention to the deep roots of corruption in both business and government.
To the narrow streak of light that used to filter through my window,
I miss you.
All the LEDs now trying to look like you and succeeding,
they don't have the warmth of your skin,
I miss you.
To the gathered dust dancing in that diagonal curve of your yellow hue,
To the sweat on my skin you made them glow like dew,
To the blush of my cheeks,
The residue of our rendezvous,
I miss you. .
My day starts with the screech of the alarm.
My first sight is not the face of my lover dozing softly by my side, it's the face of the clock telling me another long day has begun.
Now, as I stand here, almost midnight, my eyeball alternating between the familiar clock that seems to mock me with its ever slow trail of time, and the various monitors with intimidating parameters flashing in the room; My ears are alert to the slightest noise of danger; My reflexes prepared, like a soldier crouched under cover ready to attack; when I see this little creature-baby of someone, bed no 5. Someone's baby who is just a bed number to me. Someone with heart rate of 160, respiratory rate of 62, saturation waxing and waning, antibiotics flushing through his system, peep 5, FiO2 30%. Someone I wish wouldn't crash on my call.
Almost not a someone. Just a somethig.
Cynical. Selfish. Mechanical. Heartless. I know.
I look closely now. I notice his tiny countenance. His miniscule features, obscured by the many devices keeping him alive with Allah's permission and will. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, his hands and feet bearing needle marks so numerous, you would think he was a regular drug abuser.
I look at this baby of someone, lying limp on bed no 5, ICU.
And suddenly I am grateful. The heaviness that I carry perpetually in my chest, lifts for a while. I sigh and thank Allah under my breath.
You would think I was rejoicing in someone's misery.
But often, most often, almost always, we find relative happiness- Happy that we are better off than someone else. That we are safe from the calamity that hit them.
Because real happiness? It doesn't exist.
An age old adage teaches that it takes misery to know happiness.
The world of Illness is lonely, and often unforgiving.
In that moment, that baby of someone, made me grateful that my lungs were capable pumping air for me, that I did not need artificial products to make blood for my body to function, that I was awake, alert, conscious, and free to be where ever I wanted to be.
That possibilities for me..were endless.
Crying, is sometimes the only option left to explore.
With the hope that it will take away some of the hurt in its flow.
The red eyes, runny nose, and quivering lips left fades slow.
Life starts to feel like an onion.
You peel a layer at a time.
And then weep.
In the world of Roaming Women, we have Léa!
Location: Prague, Czech Republic
Selected by: @outoftheofficetraveling
Follow and use our tag #roamingwomen for a chance to be featured.
Tic tac tic tac ⏰ Travel. Your money will return. Your time won’t.
The Astronomical Clock of Prague is one of the most photographed spots of the city, and even of all Europe. But not really hard to understand why right? You can swipe right to see what happens when the hour strikes, and also how many people come every hour to witness it! Have you been to Prague already?
L’horloge astronomique de Prague est l’un des lieux les plus photographiés de la ville, et même d’Europe. Mais ce n’est pas très difficile de comprendre pourquoi, hein? Swipez vers la droite pour voir ce qu’il se passe quand l’heure sonne, et aussi combien de personnes viennent chaque heure pour l’observer! Vous êtes déjà allés à Prague?
“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life”. Londres tava no topo da minha listinha de cidades pra conhecer e cumpriu com todas as expectativas! Ainda quero voltar e ficar mais tempo por la ❤️ Semana que vem tem destino novo 🌍 Quem adivinha?