.:Bullet Proof Read:.

Yesterday, at the crowded bus station, I heard a young boy crying out loudly - the sort of cry of a lost, hurt boy. Then I saw him, about 4 years old, with an elderly man trying to calm him down to no avail. So I got reminded of this video: Stranger Danger: Protecting Your Kids [originally posted here]. I was assured the kid was ok though because I soon saw some ladies coming around the two.

It just made me wonder though. That video… Us. Why do we lack the concern… the compassion? It’s not just this… Everything else. Amongst ourselves even. The irony being just before that I was answering my exam question of “What was the secret to Rasulullah’s (sallallahu ‘alayhi wasallam) success in building an Islamic state?” One of the points I made was that he was a compassionate leader… And indeed he was, the best of man to show compassion, sallallahu ‘alayhi wasallam.

So where is our compassion? What has happened to us? Why’re we such a cold people? When we claim to be of the sunnah of Rasulullah sallallahu ‘alayhi wasallam? Allahu a’lam. You and I could probably go on endlessly listing possibilities… but it’s just one of those moments… baffles me. Allahul musta’an…

And by His Beautiful Names, we seek His Help.
[ART: Hafeez Shaikh]

My Frozen Compassion

My compassion freezes
Lies cold, helpless
Around it apathy
Abides, a permanent address

My compassion, freezing
Lies there, ceasing
Beneath the dirt
Beyond any cleaning

My frozen compassion
Lies still, dead
Capable of resurrection
Condemned though, repulsion

My compassion, frozen
Lies invisible, sunken
Desperate to awaken
Demanding chance, the second

My compassion, it froze
Lied peaceful, alone
Eaten out, in throes
Ending… Existent-non, it goes.

Om Wareke

[Tis all a bit cheesy. But MEH. I'm posting it anyway. Salam!]

الصـــــديــــــق
The Friend فمن هو الصديق الحقيقي وهل يوجد صديق في هذا الزمان
Who is the true friend, and is there a true friend nowadays?

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الصديق الذي تكون معه, كما تكون وحدك اي هو الانسان الذي تعتبره بمثابة النفس
The true friend: He is the friend that when you are with, if is as if you are alone, meaning he is the person who you consider to be on the same level as yourself

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يقبل عذرك و يسامحك أذا أخطأت و يسد مسدك في غيابك
The true friend: He is the one who accepts your excuses and forgives you if you err, and defends you in your absense.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يظن بك الظن الحسن
The true friend: He is the one who assumes of you the best assumptions.

و أذا أخطأت بحقه يلتمس العذر ويقول في نفسه لعله لم يقصد
And if you err in truth, he seeks an excuse and says to himself, perhaps it was not indended.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يرعاك في مالك و أهلك و ولدك و عرضك
The true friend: He is the one who cares for your wealth, and your family, and your offspirng, and your honour.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يكون معك في السراء و الضراء و في الفرح و الحزن و في السعةِ و الضيق و في الغنى و الفقر
The true friend: He is the one who is with you using ease, and hardship, and in happiness, and in sadness, and openness and in constrait.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يؤثرك على نفسه و يتمنى لك الخير دائما
The true friend: He is the one who prefers you over hisself and wishes for you good always.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي ينصحك اذا راى عيبك و يشجعك اذا رأى منك الخير ويعينك على العمل الصالح
The true friend: He is the one who advices you if he sees your faults and encourages you if he sees good in you and helps you adhere to good deeds.

الصديق الحقيقي :هو الذي يوسع لك في المجلس و يسبقك بالسلام اذا لقاك و يسعى في حاجتك اذا احتجت اليه
The true friend: He is the one who makes room for you in a seating, and hurries to greet you with peace if he meets you, and hurries to help you if you are in need of help.

الصديق الحقيقي :هو الذي يدعي لك بظهر الغيب دون ان تطلب منه ذلك
The true friend: He is the one who prays for you, without you knowing, without you asking for it.

الصديق الحقيقي :هو الذي يحبك بالله و في الله دون مصلحة مادية او معنوية
The true friend: He is the one who loves you for the sake of Allah, and not for the benefit of material goods or support.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يفيدك بعمله و صلاحه و أدبه و أخلاقه
The true friend: He is the one who benefits you with his actions, and excellence, and morals and manners.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يرفع شأنك بين الناس و تفتخر بصداقته و لا تخجل من مصاحبته و السير معه
The true friend: He is the one who raised your esteem between the people and boasts his friendship and is not embarrased with his friendship and his walking with you.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يفرح اذا احتجت اليه و يسرع لخدمتك دون مقابل
The true friend: He is the one who is happy if you need him, and rushes you serve you, not wanting anything in return.

الصديق الحقيقي : هو الذي يتمنى لك ما يتمنى لنفسه
The true friend: He is the one who wishes for you what he wishes for himself.

Translated by Ibn El-Sheikh.

Posted here.

An Iron Age grave. If only the bones could speak.

When I was a kid, I was totally ignorant of the true ‘aqidah. I had the vaguest idea of the Hereafter (let alone my Rabb) and would quickly latch on to the ideas presented on TV. One particular movie I remember proposed the belief of rebirth… So this guy died and went through the whole process of rebirth but he’d missed out on the most important part - the “injection” to make him forget about his past life. So he was born into the world as a new person and slowly picked up memories from his previous life. He typically meets his wife, falls in love with her, etc. I kinda thought it was pretty cool… Living different lives, knowing what it was like before. I know. Ridiculous to the T. May Allah forgive me :-/.

Having such ideas running wild in my head without certainty about Islam, I’d start wishing that someone from the dead could just come back and tell us, “YES, Islam IS the true religion!” Years later, as I began taking the deen seriously, learning and implementing, alhamdulillah, I had full conviction that Islam is the Truth, the Straight Path, the Only religion in the sight of Allah… And I dropped all bogus ideas of needing a zombie to come tell me my deen.

But sometimes, in these trying times, when the going gets rough, the little wish for the dead to return with a message would creep up on me again… But this time, to tell me, to warn me, that the punishment in the grave is indeed severe, the true horror of it. Just because… you know… They’ve actually experienced what Allah says in His Book. It’s those times when you feel so low, nothing really moves you, there’s no stopping you from that next sin…

But is that really necessary? Would the fear of Allah increase with such an admonition? I fear not. Allah, the All-Knowing, has given us enough warning. And if such warnings suffice for the best of the believers, it should suffice for us. Certainly, if those words aren’t enough for us, then nothing could move us. We read in the Qur’an how the ones doomed to the Fire will wish to be returned to the earth to do good but how vain will that request be then…

وَيَوْمَ نَبْعَثُ مِن كُلِّ أُمَّةٍ شَهِيداً ثُمَّ لاَ يُؤْذَنُ لِلَّذِينَ كَفَرُواْ وَلاَ هُمْ يُسْتَعْتَبُونَ
And (remember) the Day when We shall raise up from each nation a witness (their Messenger), then, those who have disbelieved will not be given leave (to put forward excuses), nor will they be allowed (to return to the world) to repent and ask for Allah’s Forgiveness (of their sins, etc.).’
(Surah an-Nahl: 84)

The truth is the Warning has been sent, the Warner sallallahu ‘alayhi wasallam conveyed it so clearly… Even they will admit as such.

قَالُوا بَلَى قَدْ جَاءنَا نَذِيرٌ فَكَذَّبْنَا وَقُلْنَا مَا نَزَّلَ اللَّهُ مِن شَيْءٍ إِنْ أَنتُمْ إِلَّا فِي ضَلَالٍ كَبِيرٍ
They will say: “Yes indeed; a warner did come to us, but we belied him and said: ‘Allah never sent down anything (of revelation), you are only in great error.’”
(Surah al-Mulk: 9)

If we keep wishing for the impossible (that the dead could come warn us), we will be like the ones mentioned in the above verses who never found any warning satisfactory. May Allah protect us from that.

But still, you’d find that Allah, the Most Merciful, guides His slaves through such “scary warnings” - through dreams. How many of our brothers are moved to the deen because they had nightmares of how they’d turn out? I remember a brother telling about his dream where he was standing on a field… with many others around. But they were so far away from him, he’d felt so left out, so isolated from the group. It’d felt like the Last Day… And he didn’t belong. Subhan Allah.

These, coupled with certain tragedies like maybe an accident that’s described as “a brush with death”, are the closest you’d ever get to a real glimpse of what is to come.

It’s kinda ironic when you think about it. The modern world attributes certain matters to the “supernatural” and claims such beliefs are backward… But they are the ones still waiting, waiting for that one final warning that’ll come when it’s much too late. How unfortunate then…

So keep a heads up. Turn to the Qur’an, the sunnah, the beautiful writings of the great scholars and you’ll find abundant, more than enough, admonitions. Admonition to rightfully inspire you into action, into protecting yourself and your family from the Fire. Anything else is a lame excuse.

The Poem.
If only the dead could warn us!
The truth of the afterlife
How nothing here
Would matter at all

If only the dead could warn us!
The pain of the underground life
How suffering on earth
Would seem heavenly

But if the dead could really
Would I really
Be spooked to change
Drastic as it may be?

I need the feeling
Sinking,
Heart to the toes
Gets me down on my fore
Realisation, please
Come hit me
Straight
The warnings just
Aren’t what they were
like before.

- Me.

PS. My deepest apologies for the long delay in this post. I’ve been inconsistent in posting (and will be more so in the next few weeks) so please keep your checks to a minimal - to save you the hassle insha Allah, heh :$. I believe sites like Bloglines help you track updates to blogs so instead of having to manually check every blog for new posts, you can simply subscribe to them and be informed whenever there is any update :-). Barakallahu feekum.

I looked up some of my poems and found my favourite. This means a lot to me because I wrote it about a special someone, and had meant it for my dearest, beloved father as well, rahimahullah. Reading it again now makes me realise it fits in many general circumstances too. Presenting my poetry pride…

If I looked over my shoulder
Would I find you staring at me
Watching, gazing, pondering
Awaking memories that sparkle in your eyes.

If I looked over my shoulder
Would I find you praying to the One
Seeking, begging a chance of return
To a moment where nothing failed us.

If I looked over my shoulder
Would I find you tripping, falling
As you chase illusions of me
Grasping nothing but foggy air.

If I looked over my shoulder
Would I find a smile upon your face
A grin so wide it hides all the hurt
But nothing’s concealed as your tears falter.

If I looked over my shoulder
Would I find you
Or would I find myself, alone, lost and trapped
In a future that refused to have existed.

- Om Ahe.

The secret’s out
Your diary’s opened wide
Will you be safe
Or drowned by the media tide?

I worry for you
And my heart it aches
Yet I know to be strong
That your faith won’t break.

I knew it vague
Enough to set me apart
As news draws closer
Wishing it would never start.

Inevitably facing
With hopes so high, so nigh
To Allah our Lord
We share a prayer, a sigh.

It gives me a shiver
As my tears grow cold
I might’ve been with you
Had I been told.

May Allah protect our imprisoned brothers and sisters everywhere and keep them steadfast. May He hasten their release and grant patience and tranquility to them and their families.

I guess I never did explain why I gave up on blogging the project, or why my project failed in the first place. It’s just a personal essay, but I felt I had chosen a topic way off my league… Something that if I self-studied, I would misinterpret beyond horror. And it wouldn’t be all that worth it. Lame excuse? Maybe. But here’s a poem to make up for it…

Open the envelope
An eye of wide surprise
Information overload
A cry of time’s demise

Too much detail
Continuous, grossly disfigured
A simple word
Void, impeccably weird

Til conveniently brain-dead
A mind vacant and hollow
Vague attempts feed it
Yet afraid of overflow

Alas, refusal of knowledge
Excuses, excuses galore
O my wasted privilege
Your departure I adore.

- Umm Waraqah

Taqabbalallahu minna wa minkum, ameen.

I hate it when I feel sad, but it’s not a righteous type of sadness. Because it’s not wrong to be sad, so long as I don’t become ungrateful and lose hope in Allah… And yet I just wish I don’t feel sad like this. Know what I mean? Ahh, where has the shareefness gone…

Anyway, ‘eid was pretty good, alhamdulillah. I shan’t go into details about that… Not only will it be a boring account (yea not surprising) but also it seems like I have lost my entire fanbase. Which was mainly made up of Hass… And a special guest appearance by Dorkie. But you know what? I know out there somewhere, there’s a certain someone, a special someone who’s lurking around this blog, reading my posts, longing to make comments but hesitating… Yea, I know very well who this person is. I mean seriously, how in the world does she think she can hide from me? She’s MOTI! Uff.

And as such, I’ve decided to write this poem for her, to get her out of the dark corners of this daft site. I call it Uff.

Oh meri moti
How moti you be
If only we’d see
Food in the world be free

Then eat we would
After saying bismillah
As much as we could
Then say alhamdulillah

We might fight a bit
For that last piece of pie
But I won’t get into a fit
As they say no pie, no die

Then we’d sit and wonder
Just how much we had
Oh what a blunder
We just went mad

So no, it’s not nice
For all food to be free
And we should think twice
Before we go on an eating spree

Imagine the stomach ache
Imagine the pain on a tooth
Just for an extra piece of cake
No thanks man, UFF.

Hiding my eyes
I appear sightless
But the view glares back at me
Right into my soul

His eyes peer into confusion
He questions why
His finger trembling as he points to the sky
He says, “Accountable.”

Meek excuses
I pour forth my lifestory
But the hurt, bleeding,
It blinds me.

He shakes his head
His tears began flowing
Too late, much too late
He vanishes as I awake

But my eyes were opened all the while
Stark, clear vision
Where did he go?
Why did he leave?

I bring my hands up, seeking
Only to see them covered in blood
I begin to drown in it
But I couldn’t move

Or did I not want to move?
O little brother, I have failed you
I couldn’t save you
And yet I watched

The blame is upon me
Nothing can bring you back now