Kumbhalgarh Fort in Qila Kumbhargarh, Rajasthan, INDIA
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Qila (1998). Even in your anguish, please dispose of trash appropriately.
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🙏👏 ਦਸਮ ਪਾਤਸ਼ਾਹ ਸਾਹਿਬ ਸ੍ਰੀ ਗੁਰੂ ਗੋਬਿੰਦ ਸਿੰਘ ਜੀ ਦੇ ਛੋਟੇ ਸਾਹਿਬਜ਼ਾਦਿਆਂ ਬਾਬਾ ਫ਼ਤਿਹ ਸਿੰਘ, ਬਾਬਾ ਜ਼ੋਰਾਵਰ ਸਿੰਘ ਅਤੇ ਮਾਤਾ ਗੁਜਰੀ ਜੀ ਦੀ ਲਾਸਾਨੀ ਸ਼ਹਾਦਤ ਨੂੰ ਕੋਟਿ-ਕੋਟਿ ਪ੍ਰਣਾਮ। 🙏 👏
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When in Delhi, don't miss out on the Purana Qila. 🧱🏰 Purana Qila in Delhi is absolutely spectacular with an amalgamation of Islamic as well as Rajasthani architectural styles..🏰🧱 https://www.instagram.com/ghumanvilla _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ #puranaqila #delhi #delhiphotography #puranaqiladelhi #puranaqila #newdelhi #newdelhiindia #newdelhi #oldfort #oldfortnite #fort #qila #qila #delhitravel #travil #indiaphotography #newdelhiphotographer #olddelhi #olddelhi #puranidelhi #photonature (at Old Fort) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmTof-qLQ3E/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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( @tormxntum ) the mughal empire had outdone themselves this time. in the aftermath of many nations grief they had gone and thrown caution to the wind for him and his army to catch. he had been walking the perimeter, off-shift; the corridors were quieting, guests had gone to bed, however, off in the distance, the sounds of chatter echoed. the sun had gone down long ago, the moon was ripe, casting shadows out across the courtyard like paintings upon artistic tile. the gardens were empty, no movement catches his attention in the fields; he was alone.
with his attention on his feet as he rounds a corner, he doesn't see them until he's standing out in the open. dark curls, pretty eyes, strong cheekbones, agility, command; he supposed, if the light of the moon had struck them in any other way, his breath might've stilled in his chest. instead he stood still, watching them from a silent distance, the quick pace of their heart causing tremors to erupt in their hands. they persuaded their mind into believing they felt like earthquakes, their aftershocks felt by cailean's energy field, wishing to draw them closer, even though they wished to remain separate. profanity hits the air, his feet take him forward to find cover behind a column but miscalculation and fixation causes his shoulder to come up solid against it instead. "f*cking hell..." he mutters, his back to the pillar in hopes the other truly hadn't noticed them. he rubs the spot gingerly to remove the deep ache stone had manifested there but close footsteps make their stomach flutter.
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britishers should for real not be allowed into the indian subcontinent
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she's been avoiding the main hall , ever since the portraits had been hung . too many eyes weighing down on her , suffocating . but knowing this can't last forever , and as activity around the palace meets a lull in the night , suzume finally goes to try meeting their gaze . which proves successful , at first , but as she trails over to the young chakris , there's a familiar , deeply - detested sting on the inner corners of her eyes . by the time she reaches the emperor and empress ( she assumes ) , their portraits are but blurry outlines . she turns on her heel , rushing out of the room with so little awareness that she nearly collides with @classiqals @espionisms @balteren @bxrnfrxmashes in the process . no one was supposed to be here . she shoots them a withering look , but in that very moment , the first tear rolls down her face . immediately , she turns her head with a sniff , swiping at her cheek . " excuse me . "
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Jamia Umme Salama Lil Banaat
Takreer
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Jamia Umme Salama Lil Banaat
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Red Fort, Netaji Subhash Marg, Lal Qila, Chandni Chowk, New Delhi, Delhi, India
Martijn Vonk
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playlist: aiming for heaven ; angel ain't what i need [devil's minion]
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( closed - 5/5 ) late night, his body is rigid in high concentration as he makes his way through the halls of the palace towards his chambers. although the sultan had been weary of the party at first, politeness had brought him to a state where he could no longer feel his elbows and while he'd never been sailing to know for sure, it felt as if every step he took was akin to being on a small wooden boat in the middle of the vast, angered ocean. he believes he's alone and quiet, but decorated in dark jewels and heavy on his feet, most would attest his similarities to an elephant.
flighty by nature, the sound of a door opening startles him in his drunken stupor, one foot slipping from underneath him on the stairs and a curse falling from his lips. catching himself with surprisingly quick reflexes against the bannister for his state of being, he leans against it, his dark eyes settling on the person who had appeared behind him. "good evening." rostam greets. "are you...well?"
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