Words Fatema L.
Header Credits Fatema A. (@cosmicweavers)
One poem a day is for ohbat my way
From 12 months so special, just 9 days
My preparations continue in so many ways
Formalities of work leave are already done
Search for a laundry for ironing has begun
Schedules with maids have been set
For salawat we’ve finalized on milk and chocolate
A diary to write has been ordered online
The search for a pen is going just fine
Along with the priceless sawaab we’ll earn
There will be so much more to learn
Whether it’s a slice of history or a fable that’s told
There is so much wisdom and insights to hold
My family and friends, just like me, they prepare
Poems written from bayaans everyday I share
When they read a piece of the waaz I’m sure
They’ll remember that Ashara is so deep and pure.
The tree stands tall, alive and well
Like the living world, the teachings tell
Countless leaves on it do thrive
Because of the tree, the leaf is alive
If the leaf falls down or is pulled out
Soon it is dead there is no doubt
It becomes a waste to be thrown away
Though for a day or two it may stay
But it’s freshness is short and it will soon dry
Won’t live very long however hard you try
Man in society is in a similar fate
Entwined together with the whole is his fate
Combined with it, he has a part to play
In isolation it is impossible to stay.
When mud is hard, it becomes a stone
Where only plants like cacti, can be grown
Animals hard, become then wild
Evolution true is for the mild
Soft mud evolves, when the shape of plant it take
Soft plants become animals, when food themselves they make
Obedience of animals to domestication will lead
To the higher being of humans, they become feed
Following by humans of angels pure
Will help them become true angels for sure
So if you wish to truly evolve
All your ego you must dissolve
And remember if an angel you wish to be
Humility within is the only key.
Iblis once wore an old man’s face
And came to speak to Mohammed at one place
You know what I do, to keep your people away
How much I tempt them, so they do not pray
First I whisper into their ear
There is still time left, have no fear
The task you are doing, you can continue
If you hurry a little, you’ll finish it too
If that doesn’t work, a human being I find
In a random conversation, your follower I bind
That the time for prayer may pass away
And I could be winner of the day
But still if your follower his prayer will start
I try to put insinuations within his heart
You haven’t prayed correctly, I plant a doubt
From the complex web woven, he can’t get out
If his prayer in between he breaks
You have no idea how happy it makes
I kiss his hands, his forehead too
Thinking on him again the same trick will do
If he still ignores me, I urge him to pray fast
So that his conversation with Almighty does not last
If along with Imam in the masjid he prays
I push him so forward or behind he stays
If he still hasn’t given in to a single of my pitch
To play with his fingers I give him an itch
From devils in disguise please keep me away
On time correctly, may I always pray.
Maula Ali farmed acres of land
Hasan, Hussain fed Muslims all
In the lanes of Kufa you could hear
Their invitation call
One day to Kufa masjid
A poor traveller came
He saw Maula Ali eating food
Said -Share with me that same
Ali said this is the flour of jowar
Unable to swallow you might find
He said- I shall have what you have
I really do not mind
Ali offered him jowar flour he ate
But he could not gulp it down
Gave him water, told him to
Go within Kufa town
The traveller then asked him
‘Jowar flour is very cheap
Are you afraid of robbers
That locked within you keep’
Ali said ‘my children in this box
Add sugar and ghee to gain
I keep it under lock and key
Cause I like to have it plain
Go to the men in Kufa
Who serve food to all those there’
The traveller went, they called him in
And washed his hands with care
Tears welled in the travellers eyes
When this food he ate
Hasan Hussain saw and asked him why
Does your family lay in wait?
We are blessed, we have enough
As much as you want you may take
I have no family, the traveller said
I cry for that dervish’s sake
In the Kufa mosque, with patched clothes,
On a straw mat sits a man
He eats only jowar flour,
Reach him food if you can
With tears rolling from their eyes
The Imams to the traveller said,
‘That dervish is our father, Ali
After the prophet who has led’
O ye followers of Ali
With his love in your heart
Know that that love is the key
To assure of heaven a part
From the countless lessons of Ali’s life
Of simplicity as we learn
Prayers for me I simply ask
His blessings to always earn.
So close to an emperor once grew a slave
That the title of ‘vizier’, the emperor gave
The courtiers with this closeness with envy were filled
To poison the king’s ears against the slave they willed
Finding his weakness was now their aim
They called in a meeting, to disgrace and defame
One courtier said, his secret I know
In a house with a big lock, everyday I see him go
I assume from the emperor’s treasures he steals
Then within this house, he hides and seals
Let us all go to the emperor and complain
He will be caught and that will be our gain
They went to the emperor and told him of their mind
Unperturbed he said, Go within that house and find
All of them entered and searched about
The ground, walls, roofs, it didn’t leave any doubt
There was nothing in that house except an old hideskin coat
And an old pair of chappals, not worth any note
Ashamed, the courtiers told the emperor what they had seen
The vizier was called in private to ask, what they did mean
“That house has only a coat and footwear
Why then do you lock it with so much care??”
The vizier said- When to your palace I came
I had only these two things to my name
Only your kindness and grace have paved the way
That I stand in this elevated position today
The emperor said, These are ordinary things
Your visit to them daily, what reason brings??
He replied I see them every day
To keep pride and arrogance away
They serve to remind me from where I came
Of the abundance of your favours I don’t lose aim
Gratefulness then fills my heart
Humility becomes of me a part
These words did the emperor happy make
(Have the) wisdom of reality for every human to take.
Who swept this earth with her hair?
Ma Fatema, showed how much its care
From the dawn of ashura before dusk
This earth became more precious than musk
Every martys blood did it take
Every tear accepted in its wake
From the death of the groom that they tore
The limbs of Maula Abbas it bore
The blood from Ali akbars side
Hussains hands trying to stem its tide
That grief that the earth did save
And little Aliasgars grave
As Imam Hussain gave sajda that day
With his tears, flowing blood, he did pray
What fate of the earth that be must
That it turned into healing dust
Now the world over disease is rife
People everywhere suffer in strife
We pray that soon peace we may know
And as blessed pilgrims, to heal there we go
Maula Ali says – Oh ye people wise
When your mother gave you birth, the world heard your cries
Happy were people of your birth to learn
But when it’s time for you to return
May the world be crying that you are dead
And you be happy with the life you’ve led
To achieve this you must work through life
Keep a smiling face through hardship and strife
When all your organs work through life’s goals
Remember on death they are collected in your soul
Live an active life with his love in your heart
So that with a smile this world you depart.
Prophet Eesa once travelled
From one place to another
A worldly man joined him
“May we travel together?”
Along their journey when this man
Could not his hunger bear
He went inside a village
To bring back food to share
He bought four rotis, ate one
Thinking no one could see
The prophet smiled and enquired
He said, “There were only three”
When they shared the rest and went ahead
The prophet asked him, “May I know,
There were four rotis you had brought
Where did the fourth one go? “
This worldly man believed for sure
Forever he could hide
“There were only three, O companion”
Once again he lied
Along the way a roasted deer
Awaited them at God’s will
The hungry travellers reached there
And they ate their fill
The deer was made alive again
A miracle witnessed with his eyes
But when asked about that roti one
He continued with his lies
When the travellers walked ahead
They came to a flowing stream
The prophet held his hand, on water walked
God’s special blessing, not a dream
Then again the prophet smiled
And asked about that roti once more
But the man, now used to lies
Added one more to his score
As they went forward they saw
Four gold bricks lying near
The worldly man, tempted he said
“I wish to remain here”
The prophet explained, this place is wild
Come let us go ahead
But temptation and greed ruled now
And he refused to be led
Alone then in the jungle
Happy with the gold he’d got
3 robbers saw the worldly wealth
And killed him without a thought
One robber went to bring the food
And poisoned the other two’s share
The gold bricks now he wanted all
For his companions he didn’t care
The two robbers remaining back
Made plans to kill their friend
And so then in a little while
All their lives did end
The worldly man, those robbers three
Oh what their love, what fear
Those golden bricks, so attractive then
Like a waste remained back here
Countless lessons here for the discerning eye
How many do you see??
How many do you take??
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