Two Pashtun Men Greeting

Kabul in 1968.

Sky Variations & Nebulae of Water. Part III. Art by StrayChild on ArtStation.

shrines. qawalis. sufism. solitude. heartbreak. cigarettes. leather jackets. alcohol. poetry. football. ali sethi. manto. hadiqa kiani. havelis. photography. love. sunsets. you.

- life, once upon a time

“د مسافرو یاري مه کړه تا به د زړه په رنځ اخته کړي دوی به ځینه Do not fall in love with wanderers You will drown your heart in sorrow And they will leave.”

— Pashto landay

Dark Academia: STEM Edition

(because everyone talks about the literature lovers but not the science lovers)

Staring through a microscope far longer than you should just because you love being able to see what few others have seen

The idea of pushing the boundaries of human knowledge, of making an impact

Studying ocean currents and still feeling amazed when you see them churning the sea’s surface

Messy writing

Going through online libraries and only reading the abstracts of research papers

Thousand page anatomy textbooks

Latin words you don’t quite know the meaning of

That feeling when memorizating facts finally turns into understanding concepts

Knowledge of biological functions even though you’re not quite sure when you learned it

Afghan Dark Academia consists of wearing velvet kuchi dresses and drinking kahwah while listening to classical Rabab music and analysing poems of Rumi, Rahman Baba and Hafez.

Dark Academia for Brown People

 Most people, when they think of dark academia is books (that’s the whole point) and ancient languages such as Latin or Ancient Greek. I’m here to tell you that you all are SLEEPING on brown culture. Love that is conveyed in the languages of Persian and Urdu (my native language) crosses borders. Sure, Shakespeare and Sappho wrote great pieces of literature but the stories and poems of Rumi, Manto, Hafez and Iqbal have a special place in my heart. 

Some of my favourites are:- (all are translated)

Sit at my grave with wine and a minstrel in a trance, so your smell will raise me from the dead.

HAFEZ

My lover’s sadness lit a fire in my heart that burned my chest, there was a fire in his house that burned the nest.

HAFEZ

O the day turned night, what a shame, a gazelle of kindness a lion became, my partner and lover grew tired of my words and prayers too.

RUMI

These are my personal favourites. I can always make a longer post if you all want.

Female poets deserve a whole other post.

As someone who goes to an English-Medium school, we are always taught to converse in English, see the language as a part of yourself but deny a place to Urdu. As I grow older, I have come to appreciate my identity and so should all my fellow brown people. Take pride in your mother tongue.

Muslim academia

Damn!

by Akhil Katyal