Monthly Archives: January 2012

The Room.

In the name of Allah, and Allah alone.


How does one pour out the contents of her heart without emptying it?

C: it is strange.

M: indeed, very strange.

C: will you not defend yourself?

M: for whatever reason should i?

C: whatever you may please, but at least – something. You are a person of valour – I knew you as such and you told me as much.

Valour, indeed.

M: and if I refuse?

C: that is not the companion I know.

M: have you ever known me at all?

Her back straightened, something sparked, in her eyes, but she recollected herself.

C: come, darling. Let’s not waste time talking about such silly things. After all – I am your only ally in this world. It has always been this way.

Silence hung in the still air, which thickened with warmth – a fire was ablaze in a corner of the room. Its embers cackled steadily.

I inhaled. Silence. Hesitation. Then I began.

M: did it ever occur to you, that this – this, alliance –


[enter H]

H: hearken! Love, where art thy soul?

M: to whom are you referring to?

H: there is no one else here.

Indeed, every shadow in the room was still. Except mine, and his, chests rising and falling to the rhythm of life.

M: odd.

H: odd? To whom are YOU referring to?

M: never mind that – and what heavenly inspiration drove you to interrupt me in such a manner?

H: there was nothing to interrupt to begin with.

I found myself lost in my own contemplations once more – the room was dim and gloomy despite the fire, alight, ablaze, and cheery. An apt paradox to an apt situation.

H waits patiently. I finally raise my head.

H: love! What arrests your thoughts? Your soul isn’t at peace – do speak to me.

M: it is the same matter, like every other-

H: is it the companion that worries you? Is it now? You do talk so much about her – even though you talk very little and your sentences are always so curt.

Taken back by his sudden outburst, I am shunned back into silence. The fire cackles on, slowly, almost unnoticeably, growing.

M: would you prefer me that way?

H: I’d be surprised if you have ever been, any different.

You are wrong, I think quietly. Never have two moons passed with the same set of eyes.

M: that was a brave, and foolish, thing to say.

H: do I not know you well enough?

all at once I caught a glimpse of C, her eyes, like the fire, ablaze – ablaze they were. Embers dancing ferociously in those otherwise calm, black pearls of her eyes.

M: calm ye, and gather your senses. I will not bear any mischief from you anymore.

C: senses indeed! Have you forgotten yourself?

M: perhaps I have.

H: Heavens! What possesses you this time, young lady?

M: that which doesn’t concern you. Be gone.

H: I believe I have the right to refuse.

M: and I, the right to insist, and impose. This is, after all, my property.

H: but the heart of the owner, will belong to me.

M: foolishness.

H: if that is your wish, love. I only seek your consent.

C: fools. Fools – all and each of you.

My eyes close, wishing the scene away. Although I knew that to despise reality is idiocy, to deny the tangible is irrational.

That didn’t mean reality needs to be a part of me.

And deep within, I kept on wishing. Wishing. Hard.

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Posted by on January 21, 2012 in Poetry


The friend.



A million and one thoughts

In the corner of the mind

A million and one thoughts

Wait! – none are mine.


I am brought to wonder

What inspiration

Sparked those eyes

And smile, so handsomely fashioned?


In a corner I lurked,

And peeked, peeved

Yet peevishly appealed

With so much to conceal.


I am brought to wonder, again.

Shall I throw myself into the thunder and rain –

When all I ever wanted was to see the Sun?

Will the reader and story, in the end, become one?


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Posted by on January 19, 2012 in Poetry


“Whoever knows God turns his back on all else.”


And here I am, sitting and pondering my morning away. Milling over words and rolling them in my fingers – the urge to write is strong, yet the mind feebly hesitates.

Looking back in retrospect – I can’t help but wonder sometimes – just what exactly happened in the past 18 years? It somehow feels like everything was nothing but benign and halcyon, tasteless to a certain extent but endurable still. I did feel myself different from the little friends I played with, not knowing to what or whom I owe that feeling to – but instead of reflecting and investigating, I thought nothing of it and carried on with accepting the reality, ‘I am this, this is me.’

Then one comes to a stage in life where he indefinitely ceases to have that sort of worldview. He finally stops in his tracks and observes the life he has been cultivating, the ideas and opinions in his heart and subconscious mind that hold the reins to his actions and speech. This reflection is somewhat akin to the thoughts that run through one’s mind the moment he gains consciousness – ‘so what happened last night?’ – although not all of us take the time to do this, in fact most of us simply spring forth and thrust ourselves into the day’s activities, yesterday being a distant memory buried far away.

A few months ago I was exposed to a beautiful poem by Sheikh Al-Ninowy, when in his speech he quoted Christian poet Iliyya Abu Madhi’s poem, Tholasim:

جئت، لا أعلم من أين، ولكنّي أتيت

ولقد أبصرت قدّامي طريقا فمشيت

وسأبقى ماشيا إن شئت هذا أم أبيت

كيف جئت؟ كيف أبصرت طريقي؟


“I came, I do not know from whence, but I arrived,

My feet have witnessed a path so I walked,

And I shall continue walking if I willed, or stay still,

How did I come? How was I shown this path?”


A verse he mentions a few lines afterwards, though, really caught my attention. He addresses the sea beautifully and says,

وهل الأنهار تدري أنّها منك إليكا

“and do the rivers know that they are from you, and to you?”


Is that not an apt parable describing each of our situations?


And finally, piercing through the heart with his soliloquy as he walks through a graveyard,

أيّها القبر تكلّم، واخبرني يا رمام

هل طوى أحلامك الموت وهل مات الغرام



“speak to me, o grave, and tell me, o decaying matter,

Did death fold away your dreams, and did your passions die?”


After further reflection one then comes to realized that the focal point on which this whole worldview is leveraged is one’s aspirations. Ambitions and dreams are powerful things. You will find yourself at the mercy of the people you allow to control this. But if your trust is in Allah, you are, the happiest, liberated person on this earth.


Allahu a’lam.

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Posted by on January 17, 2012 in Rants, Spirituality


Silence, still.

In the name of Allah, the Incomparable, Irresistible. The One who Suffices for all. And salutations and peace to our guide and teacher till the end of times, His servant and messenger Muhammad pbuh.


Thus are the confessions of this heart –seeking to seek.


The shadow has stopped dancing.

In the silence it resists,

Yet a conjecture of patterns still,

Illuminates the darkness within.

With embers – unfriendly,

Threatening to ignite

In the storm that heaves

So ferociously

in struggle and might


and she observes,

in fear,

with weary eyes,

a heavy heart.

Conflicts she refuses to address,

And in numbness she succumbs to docility,

Yet she observes still,

In the silence she knew so well.

She seeks the gleam beyond the threshold she faces.

Where once stood the handsome figure of,

What she thought was,

Now no longer.


Posted by on January 14, 2012 in Poetry


In remembrance of the silence that remains.

In the name of Allah – My Creator, Most High, Most Exalted.


These are the concerns of my seeking heart.


It bows like a willow tree but snow doth avoid it;

It stretches to the sun, weak branches threatening to wither and break in the wind – too strong;

Yet still, palms upright, clear in sight,

Seeking alms from the sun,

Yet the shame I am encrusted in

Drives me to run;

Where is the Truth

And has the Truth really come to me?

Am I to question, lies and Truth,

Or a hypocrite be?

Why doesn’t the silence I hide in

Sing to my heart?

What part of the equation

Has torn me apart?

Should I continue to lie

Not to one, but to all?

Is this ladder worth climbing

When I know I will fall?


It may be that the moment I raise a sword in Your name,

A million more will cut me down,

But Glory and glory are not the same,

and in no other sea do I wish to drown.



This heart despairs in the sight of man,

For in the sight of man lies agony and falsehood.

It worries so much of the disease

That it has forgotten the existence

Of the Cure.


Is it this fear that has kept me away from You?

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Posted by on January 11, 2012 in Poetry