Thursday, November 27, 2014

The voice of Afghan photographers " Afghan Tales "













Afghan Tales is the voice of Afghan photographers.

The exhibition Afghan Tales features a unique presentation of the best contemporary Afghan photographers, inviting us to see a different Afghanistan of surprising complexity, contrast and change. The Western media’s portrayal of Afghanistan is still largely dominated by stories of a war torn country, emphasising the suffering and destruction of armed conflict. Through the work of more than 20 Afghan photographers Afghan Tales offer a different and richly perspectivised insight into the everyday life of a complex society in process of reinventing itself while navigating a newly found freedom of expression, yet still manouvering ideological and religious tensions. Photos by C&C
For more info "Afghan Tales"

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Where there is peace, there is love.










Winter at Sweden is wonderful if you find chance to have a sunny days, the contrast, the threes with their …, the shadow and the silence, both makes me sad sometimes but I feel myself at peaceful moments where I never had chance to feel.
Here is peace!
Where there is peace, there is love.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Hasti my daughter;

Hasti is groving with the security challenges and crises where all afghan are suffering from it.  she is speaking now as she is 2 years and 4 months old, and she is feeling the war, even i am telling that life is beautiful. 

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Gulshifta Farahani

  Gulshifta Farahani, a famous know Iranian Artist in a concert at Paris City

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Wait

Wait a poem by "Russell Kelfer"

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;

Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . .

And the Master so gently said, "Wait."


"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.

"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!

Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?

By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.

"My future and all to which I relate

Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?

I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,

Or even a 'no' to which I can resign.

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,

We need but to ask, and we shall receive.

And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:

I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,

As my Master replied again, "Wait."

So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,

And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .

and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.

I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.

I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.

You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.

You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.

You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;

You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.

You'd not know the joy of resting in Me

When darkness and silence are all you can see.

"You'd never experience the fullness of love

When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.

You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,

But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,

The faith that I give when you walk without sight.

The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask

From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,

What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.

Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,

But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you.

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see

That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.

And though oft My answers seem terribly late,

My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Monika Bulaj

Monika Bulaj is an Italian photographer who visits Afghanistan 2010 & once before. She is one of the cleverest women photographers with many especial ideas. i like her work.
See her work : MONIKA

Sunday, January 16, 2011

What i can tell you; this is my child hoods

Swimming on the river of Sari Pul province in north part Afghanistan, Child hoods what I can tell you.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Ms Humira an Afghan Artist, Calligrapher

Ms Humira an Afghan Artist, Calligrapher.
She is Student in calligraphy Department on Torques Monotone Institute.
She has already good works for exhibition, as she is trying to work hard to be as excellent artist beside a lot of Afghan girls.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Photo Exhibition "Women ಕೌಂಟ್"


Kabul House of Photo and Film Organization is pleased to invite you to the “Women Count” photo exhibition showing Women’s Political Participation in the presidential election 2009. The event is a joint venture of GTZ and UNIFEM with the cooperation of National Gallery.
The event will take place from 7th of March till March 11, 2010.
Venue: National Gallery
Photos by: Basir Seerat, Reza yemak, Reza Sahel, Adila Ghazal, Najeeb Farzad, Zakya Moradi, Barat Batoor & Habiba Sadiqi

Monday, February 22, 2010

Campaign by Robaba Naibi

Robaba Naibi Candidate of provincial Council in Mazar-e Sharif, she was campaigned on the mosques. Now she is wins the election.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Monday, December 7, 2009

Exercise of Democracy in afghanistan.


The street is not silent but for his pounding heart, slapping feet, and spinning tire.

There are other noises: distant car engines rumble; horns scream point and counterpoint; air force planes roar overhead; and somewhere close by a couple is arguing.

But he hears only three things: his heart, his feet, and his tire. They consume his reality, shoving all else to the side, discarding it as unimportant.

The only thing that matters is getting his prize home before they find him.

He does not turn his head at the sudden shout behind him. He does not feel the struggle of his heart and legs to keep him moving.

Only home matters. He will be safe there. His prize will be secure there.

But then he reaches his street and as he turns to cover the final fifty feet to his front door he sees them waiting for him. He skids to a halt but the tire continues on its way, wobbling on unsteady rubber before collapsing midway between him and them.

He pauses in the midst of silent, swirling dust. They stare at him with no expression. Then smiles creep onto each scarred, dirty face, one by one.

And then they raise their guns and the silence is no more.

by Marc

..................................................................................................................................................

For all the harshness of a world drenched in fear and bombing,

And all the wretched things this young boy has undoubtedly seenor perhaps even been a party to,

And all the horror his young mind has absorbed,

I wonder if his psyche can overcome, can forget.

For now, his mind is occupied by something that gives him hope--just an old wheel caroming through the streets, with an audience of poster people who do not laugh.

I wonder if he finds time to laugh; this photo brings out my tears for humankind.

by Wildspirit

.......................................................................................................

Carve out playin

a bombed reality.

Dodging through streetsa boy focuses his joy.

by Septembermom

....................................................................................................................

Posters hide the pock marks left my cartridges.

Ochre peels from the vertical plane.

Black cloth flaps round slim form as it runs beside.

Simple pleasure in the revolutions of a hoop.

Soon the boy will arrive home, he will be feted.

He will be dressed in a waistcoat of plastic and wires.

A clean robe will cover hiis frame, as his mother covers his face with kisses.

He will walk out with pride until he reaches his destination.

As he atomises, his thoughts will speed from him, racing to meet his glorious destiny, a smile on his thin, chaste lips.

by Christine

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

AFGHAN CONTEMPORARY THEATER
















با فروكشي آتش جنگ در افغانستان براي بار ديگر نهادهاي تئاتري مانند: ديپارتمنت تئاتر دانشگاه كابل و كابل تئاتر با خاطرات تلخ تباهي بالندگي تئاتر افغانستان؛ اما با اميد به فرداهاي روشن بر ويرانه هاي به جا مانده از تماشاخانه ها، تئاتر هايي را به اجراء گذاشتند و ديري نپاييد كه مركز فرهنگي سفارت فرانسه با گشايش تئاتر آفتاب و آشنا سازي شماري از تئاتر دوستان با اصول و فنون مدرن تئاتري و اجراي تئاتر هاي اين گروه در افغانستان و فرانسه كمك شاياني به اين هنر آسيب ديده نمود. نهادهاي ديگري چون انستيتوت گويته نيز در راستاي برگزاري فستيوال هاي تئاتر در كابل، همياري با نهادهاي تئاتري افغانستان نقش ارزنده اي را بر عهده داشتند؛ علي رغم تلاش هاي صورت گرفته در خصوص احياي مجددهنر تئاتر در افغانستان آنچه كه در تئاتر هشت سال اخير به خوبي هويداست، چالش هاي جدي و عميقي است كه تئاتر امروزي شديدا با آن گرفتار است. ردپاي اين چالش ها را مي توان در بي مبالاتي فرهنگي ارگان هاي ذيربط دولتي جستجو نمود؛ زيرا اين مساله سبب آن گرديده كه تئاتر امروزي تاثير اصلي خود را بر جامعه افغاني نداشته باشد.