Heaven under mother's feet | Your Success nothing complete without Mother

 Your Success nothing complete without Mother

Heaven under mother's feet

These are the days when I was studying at Punjab University Lahore and used to visit Sialkot two or three times a month. On my arrival, the whole scene of the house would change completely. Songs would resound in the silent atmosphere, laughter would fall from the wall. Voices were heard, flowers of laughter and joy were blooming and it seemed that without me this house was shrouded in silence, sadness and loneliness. My presence not only gave me a sense of life, but also performed the miracle of filling the sad faces of my parents with joy. I was attached to volleyball to the extent of love, so as soon as I reached home, the first volleyball The ground would flourish.

On the one hand, the fragrance of friendship of Sufi Idrees Ahmad Qureshi, Khalid Mahmood Farooqi and Saghir Ahmad Qureshi attracted me, on the other hand, Abid Hussain Qureshi, Abdul Karim Butt, Muhammad Saleem Butt, Jaffar Raza, Mazhar Hayat Sher Panja, Javed Pasha and other players. They were waiting for me, so with my arrival, the colors of the volleyball court would once again come to the whole of Joban, enthusiasm would return and a party of rabbis would be organized. Seeing such a heartwarming movement of love, the soul would come in ecstasy. Every hundred buds of friendship, love, desire and adoption would open. Even in autumn, the colors of spring began to appear.

Heaven under mother's feet

I wanted this moment to last forever and the charming performances of my friends to be the beauty of this universe, but the one who has created the season of separation and separation does not allow this to happen. Hands over to the deadly whirlpool. This game of sunshine ends with human life.

My mother's happiness was to be seen on my arrival. She did not say anything with her lips but the storm of love that was raging in her mind was reflected in her actions. A gleam in her eyes. It used to be inhabited which can be felt but cannot be described because the scale has not yet been invented which can fully reflect the infinite and eternal passions of the masses. Love for parents is a natural process, so life is different in their shadow.

Under her shadow, every hundred carefree, carefree and beautiful world of colors shines brightly. The one whose mother is alive should not have any worries because the mother prays in the middle of the night with her sobs, sighs, prayers and Tears turn the arrows of Qaza and consume all the calamities of time. My friend Abbas Tabish's poem is the final word on Mamta's emotions.

The mother is the greatest truth of the earth who is always ready to sacrifice everything for her children for the sake of selflessness. Remember, mother, not with her outward appearance, not with her stature, not with her beauty, not with her beauty, not with her delicacy, not with her charm, not with her charm, not with her knowledge and gnosis. Not because of her higher education, nor because of her superior dress, but because of her greatness, the mother lives in the heart of her children, in which the everlasting spirit of self-sacrifice and sacrifice abounds. The pain is familiar.

Heaven under mother's feet

It is the glory of Nammata to elevate her children from the glory of life by starving herself. She liked the Lord so much that she compared herself to a mother. That is why the Master of the Universe declared with his blessed tongue that (Paradise is under the feet of the mother). His boat ran aground. I used to see him every day to greet my mother's greatness, but I was still thirsty.

My mother belonged to a large family but she was so selfish and selfless that she was never proud of her father's lands and squares. She loved her dignity, respect and sanctity in all circumstances so she Father Shalam Khan never raised a hand in front of Bhatti. Those whose hearts are filled with the light of Istighna, the light surely becomes their destiny.

The statement of the government of two scholars, Hazrat Muhammad Mustaba, that if my mother called me Muhammad in the state of prayer, I would break the prayer and obey her order is a proclamation which increased the greatness of the mother to the highest throne. The prayer of Allama Iqbal written in the Mosque of Cordoba is probably revealing the same secret. Go deeper and ecstatic.