Sunday, 9 February 2014

Good News

She tried to write with rain
Though her reflections ran true
I am lack of sincerity
Muddled advices
And time in the pursuit of you

She tried to write with rain
Cup destiny in the palms of her hand
Tired limbs regress
Pillows find heavy heads

She tried to write with rain
But words morph
Mercy paints masterpieces
Across open horizons at dawn
I asked for little
And I got more

I tried to write with rain
Time passes slowly
Around familiar streets
Plot twists weave in and out of hearts
I watch your life turn
Almost a stranger traverses traffic
Open arms
I hear the final chapter play

You don't need to do any more

By the forenoon
And by the night when it is still
Your Lord (O Muhammad ()) has neither forsaken you nor hated you.
And indeed the Hereafter is better for you than the present
And verily, your Lord will give you (all i.e. good) so that you shall be well-pleased.
Did He not find you (O Muhammad ()) an orphan and gave you a refuge?
And He found you unaware and guided you?
And He found you poor, and made you rich ?
Therefore, treat not the orphan with oppression,
And repulse not the beggar;
And proclaim the Grace of your Lord Surah Duha 





Saturday, 4 January 2014

Frozen

It would be a dream to say
The pages of my book drew dust
That nothing passed in my absence
If life was to freeze on peace
Are my hands too numb to read
All the things I've written

So tell me about my departure
Oh but how could it be
When you were on my lips
My hands cupped
Towards a Lord of all the Lords
Upon a throne,
Within a night
Amongst the rain
I hope that some things
Would never change

If I was an ice sculpture
In that moment
All I am in need of
is shade

Jabbir reported :I heard Allah's Apostle (ﷺ) as saying. Every servant would be raised (in the same very state) in which he dies
Sahih Muslim 2878


There are seven whom Allah ill shade in His Shade on the Day when there is no shade except His Shade: a just ruler; a youth who grew up in the worship of Allah, the Mighty and Majestic; a man whose heart is attached to the mosques; two men who love each other for Allah's sake, meeting for that and parting upon that; a man who is called by a woman of beauty and position [for illegal intercourse], but be says: 'I fear Allah', a man who gives in charity and hides it, such that his left hand does not know what his right hand gives in charity; and a man who remembered Allah in private and so his eyes shed tears.' 
Narrated by Abu Hurairah
Sahih al-Bukhari & Sahih Muslim 

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Train Ride

It feels as if noises accumulate
Like falling snow on shoulders jutted
Outwards with pride , inwards with
Nothing much, masks the sound
Of passersby
One face ticks over to the next
And you'll see them filling time
Filling boxes on crosswords
Reading headlines that
Few make time to do anything about
And the worst thing is
When you see eyes in thought
Quiet crawling on the skin
The lids they
Close
How strange? How ajeeb
Over the most beneficial thing
They choose sleep
Truly, did he think that he would not have to return (to Us)!
Surah Inshiqaaq

Friday, 13 September 2013

One Autumn Later

Surpassed Part II
She was a winter coat, a long scarf and boots reaching her knees under her abaya. Her gloved hands gripped an oversized folder and occasionally a thermostat filled with coffee . She was the type to stay late at the library , typing furiously, finishing biro pen after biro pen, one job to the next. She was also the type to wait until the librarian was preoccupied and climb two flights of stairs, to walk back and forth between the shelves , just to admire long forgotten books. You’d seldom know she was there at all save for the occasional dusty finger print.

It was 4:07 when she left the house that morning, an old backpack slung across her shoulders. Less thought more walk.  There was dawn not quite sprawled across city pavements and a girl walking with such determined footing you’d never guess.

A small, black stairwell opposite the park.

It didn’t take much, just the kick of a heel, her boots flung surprisingly neatly into a corner, her bag much the same, with a small chink –a bracelet she didn’t have the heart to throw away.

Saturday, 13 July 2013

Naseeha and Futility

If I took words that I
Was too weak to say
And said them anyway
If I cried and wrote poetry
If I tried
How much would be enough
I gave it everything I had this time
She told me to speak on a human level
How much more human could you get
I've ripped scabs off old wounds
Just so you can see they exist
I gave it my all
It feels like deep
Inside somethings bleeds
I gave it my all
If it isn't enough
Then I'm afraid
Terrified
That there is nothing
Else I could do

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Both

The dual nature of things hurts

I wonder how it could be that
The ones you love that become the means
To save you, hurt you
And I love the person but hate the sin
Where did all our promises go?
This heart hesitates to write again
But that is how it is

I guess never agains fade
You could say things a thousand times
But if your words have no weight
then it's all just worthless

I cried when my Grandfather died
I cried when she was hospitalized
I cried when my Grandmother died
But not much
It's all relative and I have cried far more
For you, I woke countless nights
And couldn't sleep countless more
I hate the sin, I hate it like words couldn't describe
When you are stagnant in your own words for so long
I think thats when little parts of you die
Again

I'm sorry if you thought this was going to be on Ramadan , Inshallah maybe another day

Tuesday, 25 June 2013

The End of a Chapter

It began in a small college prayer room
And it ended in a small college prayer room
As for what came between the two
The poetry of the poets does little justice
It was all Quran, prayer and sisterhood
It was a home for uneasy hearts
There was advice and sincerity  and time
Passed so gently
You cannot explain a chapter perfectly
Without rewriting the chapter itself
Shall I start at the first salaam
Or pen the letters of a Friday sujood
Start at the beginning but my heart
It runs in loops and we've tied the loose ends
Whats left is fabric, silk and green
Gold brocade and a place
Where there are no goodbyes
Just eternity, and excellent company
Ameen

'The Deen (religion) is naseehah (advice/sincerity)'. We said 'To whom?' He (peace be upon him )said 'To Allah and His Book, and His Messenger, and to the leaders of the Muslims and their common folk.'
 Muslim
As for such, theirs will be Gardens of Eden, wherein rivers flow beneath them; therein they will be given armlets of gold and will wear green robes of finest silk and gold embroidery, reclining upon throne therein. Blest the reward, and fair the resting-place!
Surah Kahf
Verse 31