Abbas protects the proof of God

In Karbala, both of his
hands were unjustly taken
For in return, 2 wings were
gifted to him in heaven.
I now understand why was Hazrat
Abbas given something so high
He protected the proof of God,
with every pain and every cry.


With no vision, within his heart
he saw God in his every action
Yet with clear sight, the poof of
God, from us remains hidden.


The White Cloth

White as pearl, a cloth that covers my body head to toe,
They blame me I’m sinful and this is just a show.

Well hear me out now, for this is a story untold.
And even after this, you fail to understand, than I don’t know what humanity you possess to hold.

Chained due the tragedy of circumstances, by the hands of the devil.
If I deny to sell what I have, there will be no survival.

For hunger, for living. For the sake of paying
off the debts my late mother was unable of giving. 

I gave and they took,
not even once had anyone asked in what thunder my heart would shook

But a day came,
It was time I took the stand for a change.
I ran away, away from that hell.
I found a job where my body was no longer for sale. 

I served at a restaurant, leaving my past behind.
I often wonder, what religion I would be of if only my mother wasn’t happiness deprived.

And then a day came, a man, a Muslim asked me for my name
We exchanged basic information and with a smile I received happiness again.

He would talk to me often, make sure our physical distance was kept afar
From what all I noticed, I saw how he would never miss and offer his prayers from different hour to hour.

Through him I decided, to learn more about Islam
for him, I learned to cover my head, and not reveal my skin to the world of harm.

I accepted, I accepted his religion for in it purity I found.
I was now a new convert whose past sins were forgiven and didn’t matter what hell my life had once sound.

Then a blessing a beautiful day came,
He asked me for my hand, and vowed to be mine with his name.
It was as if my night mare was finally over.
My prince had finally come down as a blessing to change my life forever.

I was now married, for 3 years with a son. Never did I ever complain what my husband’s family had in demand.
I was out of hell, I had a family, I believed in Allah, what more can this servant ever want.

But the tragedy didn’t end there. He invited a friend in for dinner one day.
I noticed a familiar look, till it took a while to realize his friend was once my client back in those days.
A lightning creeped through me, I quickly went back into my room weeping.
I begged and begged Allah, please let his friend reveal nothing of my past sinning.
‘’Please hide my faults, Oh dear lord please help me’’, she cried out in her ambulation,
I laid my praying met, crying, sobbing in prostration.

But it was too late, he had told him everything.
Saying, you wife is just doing a show
for her past holds her identity of being a hoe.

In anger he rushed in. I stood pale putting my hand’s pressure on the wall.
deep down, I believe he would forgive me, for it was circumstance that made me lock up inside the jar.

‘He is a good man, he prays, he fasts.
He is man of God why would he not forgive me
for never have I ever betrayed since he brought me to his house’

I was wrong, he accused me of my purity, he said how long would I last
3,4 or 5 years? He said I was always a prostitute and marrying me would keep a disgrace in his cast.

He said I married for money, for status, for fame, because that’s all my type can ever want
I denied saying no, don’t compare me of what I’m not with my past
I’ve changed, I’m a Muslim! And I’ve never disobeyed any of your commands.
Look deep into me, whatever happened is now behind me
Look deep into me, for now you won’t find a single fault within me.

He gave no heed, the man I’ve ever loved walked away with my only child.
I watched him leave with a heavy heart, I could just weep and never repair the damaged caused.

I moved away from the city, I didn’t want to live in such misery.
I began becoming an active member in the Islamic center, where no one would ask about my past and leave me as I desired.

For 5 year I was content, accepting whatever my God had gifted,
Till a lady walks up to me saying she thinks I’m perfect for her to be wed with.

But how could I say yes.. while I was still in love with my first?
I sat down wondering…They say Allah is the keeper of all hearts
it may be that he might instill love in my heart for this man like my last.
They say all others love is subject to change but only one love is constant and that is the love of God.

I took a deep breath, I left this situation in the hands of my lord.
I finally met the man, and I revealed my past present and all that my life had brought.

He didn’t judge, he didn’t yell, he was clam and understood what circumstances my life had played.
He wasn’t like my 1st, he wasn’t rich, nor educated.
He was semi-literate, he was poor, and he was nothing but a vegetable seller.
Being double my age he was Generous to a fault, humble and self-sacrificing, he was perfection in most respectful manner.

Years passed by, He and I never complained of the trails Allah had brought forth.
What more could I desire, acceptance and elevation in my lord’s sight
left me with no sadness in my heart.

And now, im in my death bed. Allah had decided to call me towards him.
I think of my past, from what I was and where have I reached, how much I’ve lost and how much better was I gifted by him.

I learned that, there are many in this world who beat the drum of religion only to impress others
Yet when it comes to observing the real value – Kindness, forgiveness, compassion and charity there are none.
But I, out of millions around the world was gifted the one.

Just like how in the Quran it says ‘’ What comes to you of good is from Allah, but what comes to you of evil (O man) is from yourself (4:79)

Indeed the good people Allah gave me was from his own will
he said be and it was and I was blessed to in his gracious will.

Now let me tell you, the white as pearl cloth I wore head to toe was my sign of purity from Allah
So tell me who are you? Just who are you, made of mud to disagree with Allah?

Ps: It took me an entire night to write this poem, I know it is super long but I had to let it out.
The reference are taken Obviously from the Quran, and a book by Umera Ahmed called ‘’La Hasil’