Thursday, September 13, 2012

Change In The Air



It makes me pensive, 
when i listen for a heartbeat, 
and hear only the
echoing stillness.. 

Or maybe i am seeing 
-the very first time- 
the calm that follows a storm.

It makes me fear, 

the road ahead, 
when i realise that you won't be
holding my hand.. 

Or maybe i need to trust 
-take a leap of faith- 
that i am you...
and you are me.

It makes me wonder, 

where the blooming flowers went. 
Or maybe, if i looked closer, 
-with eyes shut- 
i would notice the ripening fruits.

It makes me sad, 

that i lack the words, 
to give voice to my heart.. 
Or maybe i am witnessing, 
-with each vanishing page- 
that no eloquent ink 
can pen an empty heart.

It makes me worry, 

when my call receives no rejoinder..
Or maybe i am learning 

-the hard way- 
that the speech of lovers,
resonates with silence.
And then some more


Then.
It makes me happy, 

to look into the horizon 
-and our shadows falling behind us- 
and realise..
That our paths crossed,
and became One.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

For What Crime?


The door that struck;
And crushed my lady,
The nail that tore;
And punctured my hope,
The gloom that spread;
That night of doom, and
The sorrow that filled
The house of Ali.
The moon that witnessed,
The silent burial;
After the sun had lowered,
Its face in shame.
The rose from heaven,
That left its fragrance;
After it was plucked in haste,
From its earthly resting.

The mother of four,
And a fifth left unborn:
Zainab, Kulthum, Hasan and Husain.
For Mohsin who will mourn,
More than his father Ali,
Who lost first his brother,
Now his wife through such pain.

Every time we relive and experience,
In Kufa, the striking of Ali,
Every time we remember,
In Madinah, the poisoning of al Hasan,
Every moment we mourn,
In Karbala, the beheading of al Husain,
Every time we are stunned,
In Toos, by the treachery against al Ridha,
Every moment when we call,
On the earth, Al Ajal ya Mahdi!
Every breath we hear an echo,
From the skies: Ya Zahraa!

The lovers’ souls are ripped,
Torn with anguish,
When they see no stone,
To mark where she lies.
The scorching fire of love,
Is awakened in them, and
Their frenzied calls fill the sky.
When they ask every time:
Bi ayyi dhambin qutilat yaa Zahraa?
Bi ayyi dhambin.. yaa Zahraa?

Monday, March 26, 2012

Sayyid Ali Son of Ali

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Right from the days of your brilliant youth,
You stood by and strived to learn the truth,
Today for the house of wilayah you are the roof,
Today for our nation you are the fountain of youth!

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Like a lion you fought, giving your hand and your blood,
When the streets with martyr’s souls did flood,
To ensure that justice was the only word,
And by these sacrifices, falsehood was nipped in the bud.

With every noble stroke of your guided pen,
You awaken the souls of slumbering men,
Saving them from their entry into the lion’s den,
And the enemy clucks like a frightened hen!

When comes the time for prayer,
And you raise your one-handed pair,
See how flourishingly well we fare,
Under our father’s nourishing care.
Ah! The enemies can only stare!

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The pleasure of your Master is your pursuit,
And your unshaken nature is of repute,
For your warm, left handed Salute,
Shakes the throne and seat of taghoot.

I am awestruck, blinded, dazed by the rays of your light,
The noor that you are, illuminating our long, dark night,
I follow you without question in this mighty fight,
Which blinded needs a vote to tell them who is right?

Our leader, our friend in the far land Iran,
May God keep you healthy, inspiring us to Iman.

~S~