@ik._.su: #fypシ゚viral #fyppppppppppppppppppppppp #foryoupage #fypシ #fyp

🇺🇸👸🏻Ik._.su💫🫀
🇺🇸👸🏻Ik._.su💫🫀
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drmuhammad.din.4
Muhammad Din Khilji :
da sa. qisa da 😮
2026-08-17 10:07:57
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mohammadaewazkaka
mohammadaewaz kakar :
جان جان
2026-08-17 06:43:26
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nasir.khna3
Nasir khna :
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dil.soze2
dil soze :
2026-08-16 05:38:39
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walimar.khan1
Walimar Khan :
2026-08-17 04:15:03
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mohammad1ullah
Hameedullah Shah Harifal :
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dil.soze2
dil soze :
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dil.soze2
dil soze :
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dil.soze2
dil soze :
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nasir.khna3
Nasir khna :
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user902491611487
نجیب اريانه :
2026-08-29 10:09:24
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dil.soze2
dil soze :
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dil soze :
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araj.uddin.wazir.1
Araj uddin wazir 1122 :
2026-09-14 20:49:23
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hajimashal88
آجي مشال :
🌹🌹🌹
2026-08-16 11:28:16
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awal.jan3
Awal Jan :
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2026-08-16 13:29:08
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khizar Wazir :
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
2026-08-16 13:59:02
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shoaibshawki18
🇦🇫Shoaib Jan Kurramiwal 🇵🇰 :
💔💔💔
2026-08-16 10:29:09
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ikramafg111
Ikram AFG :
🥰🥰🥰
2026-08-16 05:40:40
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user65740747505248
وزیرګل حیران :
🥰🥰🥰
2026-08-16 10:47:06
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khizargulwazir
khizar Wazir :
💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
2026-08-16 13:59:09
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ikramafg111
Ikram AFG :
❤️❤️❤️
2026-08-16 05:40:42
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ikramafg111
Ikram AFG :
❤️❤️❤️
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ikramafg111
Ikram AFG :
❤️❤️❤️
2026-08-16 05:40:50
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ikramafg111
Ikram AFG :
❤️❤️❤️
2026-08-16 05:41:06
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Suffering felt smaller when I was a child. Maybe the world was always cruel. I simply lived behind the love of my grandparents. My grandmother, a devoted practitioner of Guru Rinpoche, taught me compassion, non-violence, and karma. Even harsh words frightened me. Then I grew up. Away from that protection, I learned another language of humanity: humiliation, violence, abuse, unwanted touch, and fear. And I learned something terrifying: Human beings can get used to almost anything. Give us enough darkness and our eyes adjust. But the body remembers what the world tells us to forget. So I began asking: Why do we hurt each other? Why do wounded people wound others? Why does humanity create suffering and then ask heaven why suffering exists? I read about killers, dictators, genocide, war, and humanity’s darkest chapters. Different histories, but familiar poisons: Power. Greed. Fear. Hatred. Ego. We point at history’s monsters and ask how human beings could become so cruel. But perhaps we should also look in the mirror. Cruelty does not always begin with war. Sometimes it begins with humiliating someone weaker. Silencing someone without power. Destroying someone who threatens our status. And religion does not automatically cure the ego. Sometimes the ego simply learns to wear robes. We can build magnificent monasteries while compassion dies inside them. We can bow before a hundred Buddha statues while ignoring the suffering human being beside us. Have money, status, followers, and connections, and people call you important. Stand alone with nothing to offer them, and you discover who truly respects your humanity. Perhaps the real spiritual test is simple: How do you treat someone who can do absolutely nothing for you? I could have become hateful. I could have taken everything that hurt me and handed it to someone else. I could have made innocent people pay for wounds they never gave me. I could have become what hurt me. But my grandmother planted something in me before hatred arrived. Compassion. The world taught me that people can hurt you. She taught me something greater: You don’t have to become them. So let the pain reach you. Let it teach you. But don’t let it recruit you. It reached me. It hurt me. It changed me. But I refuse to hand it to the next person. Maybe that is Dharma. Not how many prayers we recite. Not how many buildings we construct. Not how many titles we collect. But simply: After encountering us, does another human being leave with less suffering or more? — Almost Turned Hatred, Dordrak Gyalsay
Suffering felt smaller when I was a child. Maybe the world was always cruel. I simply lived behind the love of my grandparents. My grandmother, a devoted practitioner of Guru Rinpoche, taught me compassion, non-violence, and karma. Even harsh words frightened me. Then I grew up. Away from that protection, I learned another language of humanity: humiliation, violence, abuse, unwanted touch, and fear. And I learned something terrifying: Human beings can get used to almost anything. Give us enough darkness and our eyes adjust. But the body remembers what the world tells us to forget. So I began asking: Why do we hurt each other? Why do wounded people wound others? Why does humanity create suffering and then ask heaven why suffering exists? I read about killers, dictators, genocide, war, and humanity’s darkest chapters. Different histories, but familiar poisons: Power. Greed. Fear. Hatred. Ego. We point at history’s monsters and ask how human beings could become so cruel. But perhaps we should also look in the mirror. Cruelty does not always begin with war. Sometimes it begins with humiliating someone weaker. Silencing someone without power. Destroying someone who threatens our status. And religion does not automatically cure the ego. Sometimes the ego simply learns to wear robes. We can build magnificent monasteries while compassion dies inside them. We can bow before a hundred Buddha statues while ignoring the suffering human being beside us. Have money, status, followers, and connections, and people call you important. Stand alone with nothing to offer them, and you discover who truly respects your humanity. Perhaps the real spiritual test is simple: How do you treat someone who can do absolutely nothing for you? I could have become hateful. I could have taken everything that hurt me and handed it to someone else. I could have made innocent people pay for wounds they never gave me. I could have become what hurt me. But my grandmother planted something in me before hatred arrived. Compassion. The world taught me that people can hurt you. She taught me something greater: You don’t have to become them. So let the pain reach you. Let it teach you. But don’t let it recruit you. It reached me. It hurt me. It changed me. But I refuse to hand it to the next person. Maybe that is Dharma. Not how many prayers we recite. Not how many buildings we construct. Not how many titles we collect. But simply: After encountering us, does another human being leave with less suffering or more? — Almost Turned Hatred, Dordrak Gyalsay

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