The Blasphemous Art Project

The Bible:

"Yet she became more and more promiscuous as she recalled the days of her youth, when she was a prostitute in Egypt. There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses. So you longed for the lewdness of your youth, when in Egypt your bosom was caressed and your young breasts fondled."

Source: Ezekiel 23:19-21 (NIV)

In the arid dunes of 7th century Arabia, a humble shepherd who was destined to become the Prophet Muhammad tended his flock under the relentless desert sun. One scorching day, a mysterious sandstorm uncovered the entrance to an ancient, hidden cave. Driven by curiosity and whispers of folklore, Muhammad ventured inside and stumbled upon a feared and fabled fallen angel named Iblis. Contrary to legends, Iblis's eyes held not malice, but a deep loneliness that resonated with Muhammad. The two spent hours in conversation, and it wasn't long before Muhammad saw past Iblis's satanic exterior and into his misunderstood soul. The jinn shared tales of his eternal solitude, forced to exist as a misunderstood symbol of evil. A peculiar affection grew between them, transcending the boundaries of human and demon. Their love was a secret bond, defying both earthly understanding and celestial rules, yet it flourished in the hidden recesses of the desert, an oasis of empathy and connection in a world that would never understand.

In the quiet corner of a sunlit library, their hands brushed against the same poetry book—an unspoken connection sparking between them. Amina, bold and brimming with curiosity, who saw the world in metaphors and stardust. Leila, soft-spoken yet resolute, her strength tucked beneath layers of self-doubt and lilac perfume. Their laughter began in whispers, growing into shared secrets and stolen glances during Friday prayers. Each smile carried a weight of defiance against whispered judgments and unseen barriers. They found solace in each other’s arms, a quiet revolution wrapped in headscarves and love. In their shared silence, they redefined faith—not as a cage, but as a tapestry where love and courage wove their own sacred verses.

Mandodari. Queen of Lanka. Wife of Ravana, a demon king feared across the three worlds. Devout, wise, and bound by duty. Hanuman. The monkey god. Devotee of Rama. Fierce warrior and mischievous wanderer. Their worlds should never have touched. Yet, in a moonlit garden of Lanka, amidst war and destruction, their gazes met. Mandodari saw not an enemy but a soul carved from honor and compassion. Hanuman, for a fleeting moment, glimpsed the sorrow behind her regal grace—a caged bird yearning for freedom. They spoke in whispers, forbidden truths laced with trembling affection. Duty pulled them apart. Yet, in the secret folds of their hearts, an ember of impossible love burned.

Khadija, the first wife of the Prophet Muhammad—a wealthy, independent businesswoman, revered as a symbol of strength in early Islam. Sita, the devoted wife of Rama from the Ramayana—a beacon of resilience and virtue in Hindu epics. Under a sprawling banyan tree, they meet across centuries, beliefs, and worlds. Eyes meet, an unspoken understanding passing between them, as if they’ve known each other for lifetimes. Sharing stories of sacrifice and longing, laughter rises like whispers across ages. In this timeless realm, love blooms softly, defying traditions and sacred scripts, binding them in a bond beyond time.

The warrior goddess Durga—resplendent in her eighteen arms wielding divine weapons—never expected to find tenderness in the eyes of her sworn enemy. Mahishasur, the mighty buffalo demon who had terrorized both heaven and earth, found himself equally stunned when their fated battle unexpectedly turned to fascination. Where their weapons should have clashed, there was instead a hesitation, a moment of recognition that shook the foundations of their predetermined roles. Though she had been summoned by the gods specifically to slay him, and though his demonic nature drove him to conquer all he encountered, they discovered in each other a shared loneliness that transcended their cosmic duties. Under the blood-red sky of an eternal dusk, their fingers intertwined—some of hers still gripping celestial swords—as they chose love over destiny, sending shockwaves through the three worlds and forcing both devas and asuras to question everything they believed about the nature of good, evil, and the heart's impossible choices.