Beneath the Grand Dome: Poems of Peace and Presence
Author having tea on top of the hotel.
In Istanbul’s embrace, where East meets West, A tale of domes and minarets that crest. A journey’s whim, a skyline’s bloom, A chapter penned in the Blue Mosque’s room.
Beneath the gaze of its spires so tall, History’s whispers in every hall. A breakfast view, a feast unfolds, A city’s heart, in morning’s gold.
Breakfast facing the Bhosphorus
Olives dance, cheese whispers tales, Börek sighs, a scent that sails. The city wakes, the Bosphorus sings, In my teacup, reflection’s wings.
The streets a canvas, time’s own muse, With every step, the past infuse. The tram’s clang, a living thread, Through ancient paths, my curiosity led.
Courtyard of Blue Mosque
To Sultan Ahmed’s hallowed ground, Where six minarets in sky are found. No rivalry, just harmony’s play, Beside Hagia Sophia, they proudly sway.
A courtyard vast, with waters clear, Echoing prayers that the faithful hear. I enter in, a cool respite, From Istanbul’s endless appetite.
The beauty of Blue Mosque
The ‘Blue’ revealed in tiles’ embrace, Stories in ceramic grace. Sunlight dances through colored glass, Time’s mosaic, a kaleidoscope’s mass.
Amongst the pillars, I quietly stand, Feeling the touch of a timeless hand. A visitor, yet welcomed so, In this peace, the world feels slow.
Inside Blue Mosque
The carpet’s weave, the light’s soft kiss, Humanity’s tapestry, in silent bliss. Not just a site for eyes to roam, But a lived experience, history’s home.
Hours I linger, in corners’ peace, Where murmurs of prayers never cease. In vastness found, a bond profound, To all who’ve walked this sacred ground.
As daylight fades, the mosque in glow, The call to prayer, a familiar flow. I take my leave, with heart so full, Of beauty’s quest, and life’s pull.
The city breathes, alive, awake, In every scent, in each sound it makes. The mosque at night, a beacon’s call, A haven of peace, amidst it all.
With memories rich, I find my way, Knowing Istanbul will call me back one day. Where history lives, stones share their tales, In the shadow of minarets, my heart sails.
The Blue Mosque, a giant kind, Whispers stories to the mind. In its presence, we’re all but guests, In Istanbul’s story, where beauty rests.
From Breakfast Views to Blue Tiles: Discovering the Wonders of the Blue Mosque
Istanbul — My Travelogue
Istanbul, a city that straddles two continents, has always been a melting pot of civilizations, a blend of the ancient and the modern, the tranquil and the chaotic.
It was on a crisp, sunny morning in this historic metropolis that I found myself perched atop my hotel, looking out over a skyline that’s been a backdrop to history for thousands of years.
The view was breathtaking, and the minarets of the Blue Mosque punctured the horizon, commanding my attention even from a distance.
The view was breathtaking, and the minarets of the Blue Mosque punctured the horizon, commanding my attention even from a distance.
With a generous spread of Turkish delights laid out before me, the flavors of the city began to unfold with every bite.
Olives, cheese, and cucumbers paired with a warm, flaky börek filled with spinach and feta — the quintessential Turkish breakfast.
It was more than just a meal; it was a celebration of culture, a sensory introduction to a land that’s been the crossroads of empires.
I lingered over my Turkish tea, the glass cup delicate in my hands, and gazed out at the city waking up.
The mosque’s six minarets reached skyward as if in competition with the nearby Hagia Sophia.
With the taste of honey still on my tongue, I set out for the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, known to many as the Blue Mosque.
The streets of Istanbul are an open-air museum, and every step towards the mosque was a walk through time.
The city’s tram clanged by, a reminder that while Istanbul is a guardian of history, it’s also a vibrant, living city.
The mosque’s six minarets reached skyward as if in competition with the nearby Hagia Sophia, yet there was no sense of rivalry here — only harmonious coexistence.
The space was filled with the sound of water from the ablution fountains, a reminder of the mosque’s spiritual purpose.
As I entered the courtyard, I was struck by its sheer size — the biggest of all the Ottoman mosques, they said, and I could well believe it.
The space was filled with the sound of water from the ablution fountains, a reminder of the mosque’s spiritual purpose.
Slipping off my shoes, I stepped inside and was enveloped by a cool, serene atmosphere that contrasted with the city’s hustle and bustle.
The nickname ‘Blue Mosque’ became immediately apparent.
The nickname ‘Blue Mosque’ became immediately apparent.
The blue Iznik tiles, each telling a story of its own, climbed the enormous interior walls, and the sunlight filtered through more than 200 stained glass windows, bathing the space in a kaleidoscope of color.
It was a quiet moment of awe, standing there among the pillars that held up the grand dome.
I was a mere visitor, but the mosque didn’t differentiate. It stood as a sanctuary to all — a symbol of peace in a world too often divided.
The intricate designs on the carpet, the soft light, and the hushed tones of visitors from around the globe created a tapestry of human connection.
The intricate designs on the carpet, the soft light, and the hushed tones of visitors from around the globe created a tapestry of human connection.
The Blue Mosque wasn’t just a monument to visit; it was an experience to be lived — a moment where time stood still and the past and present merged into one.
I spent hours inside, sitting in corners, watching the play of light on the walls, listening to the gentle murmurs of prayers.
In that vastness, I found a profound sense of peace, a deep connection to the millions who had come before me, each with their own stories, their own hopes and dreams.
I looked back at the grand structure, thinking of the sultans and architects, the worshippers and tourists, and the many sunsets it had seen.
As the day began to wane, I made my way out, the call to prayer once again resonating across the courtyard.
I looked back at the grand structure, thinking of the sultans and architects, the worshippers and tourists, and the many sunsets it had seen.
The Blue Mosque, with its domes and minarets, was more than just the pride of a skyline; it was a testament to humanity’s quest for beauty and meaning.
Leaving the mosque, the city’s energy enveloped me once more.
The scent of roasting chestnuts filled the air, and the sound of seagulls blended with the buzz of conversation.
Leaving the mosque, the city’s energy enveloped me once more.
Istanbul was alive, a city that never truly rests, yet within its heart, there was a haven of tranquility in the Blue Mosque.
As night fell and the mosque lit up against the darkening sky, I carried with me the memory of its blue tiles and silent prayers.
Istanbul is many things to many people, but to me, it will always be a place where history breathes, where every stone tells a story, and where the Blue Mosque stands as a gentle giant, whispering tales of the past to those who take the time to listen.
In the land of dragons and ancient lore, I found myself at the Great Wall’s door. A structure vast, against the sky it sprawls, Echoing whispers of dynasties and brawls.
There I stood, so humble and small, At the foot of this immense and storied wall. Its stones have borne the weight of time, Witness to history, silent and sublime.
Author at the bottom of Great Wall of China many years ago.
With every step upon its weathered path, I felt the echoes of ancient wrath. Imagining soldiers, stern and grim, Guarding fiercely the wall’s vast rim.
The climb was steep, my breaths grew deep, Upward I pressed, the summit steep. “My legs may falter, but not my will,” I thought, as time seemed to stand still.
The climb was steep, my breaths grew deep
With each new height, a view unveiled, Of misty mountains and valleys hailed. Nature’s beauty and man’s might, In perfect harmony, bathed in light.
As higher I climbed, fewer joined my quest, To conquer the wall’s challenging crest. But within my heart, a fire burned bright, Spurred by the past’s relentless plight.
As higher I climbed, fewer joined my quest
Atop the wall, the world seemed new, Vistas of wonder, breathtaking view. “I’ve done it!” I cried, heart aflutter, Amidst the stones, no words to utter.
There, in my hand, a hero card was placed, A simple token, with meaning graced. Not just a souvenir or a mere memento, But a bond with those, who long ago,
To conquer the wall’s challenging crest.
Stood where I stood, gazed as I gazed, Shared in the spirit, equally amazed. This card I held, more than a prize, A symbol of connection, under the endless skies.
For the Great Wall is more than stone and lime, It’s a testament to will, transcending time. A journey there is a journey within, A tale of struggle, triumph, and kin.
We’re all heroes, come what may.
So when I recount my climb that day, It’s not just a tale of a wall, per se. But a story of unity, strength, and grace, A memory of the human race.
For in that climb, and the card I hold, Lies a story of resilience, age-old. A reminder that, in our own way, We’re all heroes, come what may.
And though years have passed since that ascent, The lessons learned, the time well spent, Continue to inspire and to mold, A reminder of a journey bold.
So here’s to the Wall, majestic and grand, A symbol of strength, across the land. May its legacy inspire us all, To rise each time we stumble or fall.
Author at the bottom of the Great Wall of China many years ago.
Years ago, I had the unforgettable opportunity to visit the Great Wall of China, a journey that remains etched in my memory for many reasons.
It’s not every day you get to walk along a structure that has stood the test of time, embodying centuries of history and human endeavor.
My trip to the Great Wall was more than just a tick on the bucket list; it was a profound experience that connected me to the past in a way I’d never felt before.
As far as the eye can see.
As I approached the Wall for the first time, its sheer magnitude struck me.
Stretching as far as the eye could see, the Great Wall wound like a dragon across mountains and valleys, an architectural marvel that spoke of ancient China’s grandeur and ingenuity.
I remember thinking, “Here I am, about to walk on a structure that’s been standing for over two millennia, a structure that has witnessed the rise and fall of dynasties, the invasions, and the peace times. What stories it could tell!”
Tiring climb — Not many reach to the top.
The climb was no easy feat.
As I started my ascent, a series of dialogues ran through my mind. “Can I actually do this? This is steeper than I thought!”
With each step, the history of the Wall seemed to seep into my bones.
I imagined the soldiers who once patrolled this very structure, vigilant against invasions, enduring harsh weather, and the loneliness of remote outposts.
“What determination they must have had,” I mused, pushing myself forward, inspired by their perseverance.
Magnificient view from the top (almost)
The Wall’s construction itself is a testament to human will.
As I huffed and puffed up the uneven stairs, I thought about the immense effort it took to build this fortification, stretching over 13,000 miles.
“Every stone here was touched by ancient hands, every path laid with purpose. How many stories are buried beneath these bricks?” I wondered, running my hand along the weathered stones, feeling a connection across time.
You can see less people climbing the steps to the top.
The higher I climbed, the more the beauty of the surrounding landscape unfolded.
The view was breathtaking, with lush mountains rolling into the distance, dotted with colorful wildflowers and punctuated by the snaking Wall.
“This is why they built it here,” I realized, “not just for strategic defense, but because this place holds the heart of nature’s beauty.”
It was a perfect fusion of human achievement and natural splendor, a harmony that only magnified my awe for this ancient wonder.
Imagine how they defend the walls.
Reaching the top was an emotional moment. I was out of breath, my legs were shaky, but my spirit soared.
The dialogue in my mind shifted from doubt to triumph. “I did it! I’m standing at the top of the Great Wall of China!”
The sense of achievement was overwhelming, not just for the physical feat but for the spiritual journey. I was awarded a “hero card,” a simple token that symbolized my accomplishment.
But it meant so much more to me.
It was a tangible connection to the countless souls who had stood where I stood, who had gazed upon these same vistas and felt that same indomitable spirit.
Hero Card
The hero card wasn’t just a piece of paper; it was a reminder of the enduring strength of the human spirit, a tribute to the builders, guardians, and visitors of the Wall who, across different eras, shared a common thread of resilience and aspiration.
Holding it in my hands, I felt a surge of gratitude and a profound sense of belonging to a larger story, a narrative woven through time, culture, and the collective human experience.
A cherished memory of my encounter with one of humanity’s greatest treasures.
The Great Wall of China is not just a wall; it’s a symbol of human achievement, a bearer of historical legacy, and an emblem of cultural endurance.
My journey there taught me the true value of perseverance, the beauty of human-nature harmony, and the depth of our connection to history.
These lessons, symbolized by the hero card, remain with me long after the trip ended, a cherished memory of my encounter with one of humanity’s greatest treasures.
It’s one of those places that just sticks with you, you know?
Right there in Sydney, Australia, it turns into something straight out of a dream at night, especially when the fireworks are on.
The whole vibe of the place changes as the sun sets.
It’s like the energy levels just dial up, with everyone coming out to soak in the nightlife.
There I was, mingling with both locals and tourists, all of us drawn by that buzz.
We’d grab a bite at one of the waterfront restaurants, laughing and chatting, all while waiting for the night’s main show.
And let me tell you, those fireworks are something else!
They’re not just any old fireworks; they’re an art form over there, lighting up the sky in a way that just captivates you.
It’s like they’re dancing across the harbour, reflecting off the water, and just for that moment, everything feels magical.
The view?
Absolutely killer.
You’ve got the city lights, the harbour waters, and these bursts of color all in one go.
It’s the kind of view you want to bottle up and keep with you forever.
There’s no shortage of things to do either.
One moment you’re tapping your foot to some live band, and the next, you’re caught up watching some street performer.
It’s this mix of sights and sounds that keeps the whole place feeling alive.
The food scene is top-notch, too.
Imagine sitting there with your favorite dish, the fireworks painting the sky above you, and just feeling like this is exactly where you’re meant to be.
And if you want to mix things up, there’s always something happening at the SEA LIFE Sydney Aquarium or the WILD LIFE Sydney Zoo right nearby.
Getting around is a breeze, and the whole area’s just so welcoming. It’s like Darling Harbour’s got this way of making everyone feel at home.
Those fireworks nights are a real treat – they turn a regular evening into a celebration of just… everything.
Honestly, that vacation was unforgettable.
Between the sheer beauty of it all, the endless entertainment, and that indescribable feeling of being part of something bigger, Darling Harbour at night is just unbeatable.
It’s not just a place; it’s an experience, one that I’ll always look back on with a big, goofy smile.
Imagine standing under the shadow of the Burj Khalifa, feeling like an ant next to this towering giant.
It’s not just a building; it’s a statement, showing off what humans can achieve.
The Burj Khalifa
And then there’s the luxury — I felt like royalty stepping into the Burj Al Arab, even if just for a peek, and the Dubai Mall was like shopping in a small city!
But Dubai isn’t just about the glitz and glam.
I got to dive into some really cool, futuristic stuff too.
Visiting the Palm Jumeirah was like seeing a world map redrawn by humans.
Palm Jumeirah
And the Dubai Frame?
It’s this crazy picture frame that lets you see the old and new Dubai in one shot, literally framing the city’s transformation.
Dubai Malls
Now, the nightlife there is something else. Every night felt like a weekend, with endless bars and clubs buzzing with people from all over the globe. It’s this melting pot of cultures, and I loved the vibe — so welcoming and vibrant.
Dubai at Night
But here’s the thing: Dubai isn’t just this futuristic city; it’s got its soul in the old streets too. Wandering through the Al Fahidi Historical Neighbourhood, I felt like I’d time-traveled. The wind towers, the cobbled streets, and those cozy art galleries gave me a glimpse into a Dubai that once was, long before the skyscrapers.
The souks were a whole adventure on their own. Bartering in the Gold Souk and sniffing through the Spice Souk, I got a taste of the old-world charm. And the food! Oh, the food in the old city was just heartwarming — authentic Emirati dishes that made my taste buds dance.
Riding an Abra on Dubai Creek
Riding an abra on Dubai Creek was the cherry on top.
It’s like this simple, wooden boat cut through all the modernity and just floated me back in time.
So peaceful, yet so full of life.
So, yeah, Dubai is this incredible blend of then and now.
One minute I’m gawking at the tallest building in the world, and the next,
I’m sipping tea in a centuries-old alleyway.
It’s a place that shows you where humanity has been and where it’s going, all in one day.
And that, my friend, is why my trip to Dubai was absolutely unforgettable.
Then there’s the architecture – oh boy, the architecture! The Treasury, Al-Khazneh, is this massive, intricately carved facade right out of a sandstone cliff.
Standing in front of it, I was just awestruck, thinking about how they managed to create something so detailed and grand with the tools they had back then.
And it’s not just about the buildings and tombs; the whole setting of Petra is dramatic.
You walk through this narrow gorge called the Siq to get there, and it’s like the world outside just disappears.
The cliffs tower over you, and then suddenly, you’re in this open space, and there’s the Treasury, just like in the movies.
Speaking of movies, yeah, Petra’s been in a bunch, like “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.”
Walking around, I half expected Indy to come racing around a corner, being chased by bad guys.
The cinematic fame is well-deserved because every corner of Petra feels like a movie set.
But it’s not just a place for tourists and movie buffs.
Scholars and historians flock to Petra too, trying to unravel its secrets and understand more about the people who lived there.
It’s a live classroom for anyone interested in history, architecture, or archaeology.
For me, though, beyond all the history and architecture and movie fame, it was just the sheer, raw beauty of the place that struck me.
The colors of the rock, the vastness of the landscape, the quiet – it’s a place that stays with you long after you’ve left.
If I had to sum it up, I’d say Petra is more than just a travel destination; it’s an experience, a journey back in time, and an absolute feast for the senses.
Dr. Mazlan Abbas 