
closeted tech bro @stanford 🌲
daiyar e ghayr
Joined September 2020
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i was a neuroscientist, i think back often to my lab days. i held the whole weather of a person in my hands and understood then and there it could not be made twice
the irony is especially cruel now that i work with ai. every brain is a cathedral no one else will ever enter.
dearest, nothing ordinary has ever been ordinary. the woman waiting for the bus is carrying a universe that took 4 billion years to arrive at her.
dearest. the ones who think greatness lives in the few have not sat close enough to the many.
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i’m only 25% irani (one of my grandparents was persian) and 75% pakistani but you best believe i’m milking that 25% for every last drop of shayari & i behave like I personally knew rumi
. retweeted
“maine apne rab ko apne iradon ke tootne se pehchana hai.”
i have always read this quote by imam ali, and i had never understood the depth of it quite like i do now. and there’s something almost existential about it.
visiting my parents house this week & looking at mama’s desk & her Quran while she’s away at work. feeling super emotional. she’s just a girl.
i'm too old to be this surprised. but i am. i'm standing in her chair, knees too high.
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nothing i love can be kept out of reach of the rest of me. every grief is in the only house i have.
whatever i give you, i'm giving from the entire thing. not the leftover, not the good half. there's no other half to hold back. it's all i've got.
مَّا جَعَلَ اللَّهُ لِرَجُلٍ مِّن قَلْبَيْنِ فِي جَوْفِهِ ۚ
Allah has not made for a man two hearts in his interior.
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how heartwarming that it says excellent twice. excellent protector. excellent helper.
as if the Giver of all things wanted to be sure you heard it, and kept saying it, the way you tell a frightened child: you are safe, you are safe.
in my mother's house you cannot say thank you and be finished.
someone brings a plate of something over, and my mom receives it at the door with both hands and says jeeti raho. may you live. then Allah apkay bachon ko khush rakhe. may he give you better than this. by the third
mama wants to be in debt to people forever, in a way that keeps the door worn smooth from use. so she answers a plate of food with a prayer for the giver's whole life, an amount that can never be repaid, so that the exchange stays open and lit like a window.
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