Yâ Hâbib Yâ Sâhib al-Qadam

Current IssuesMay 29, 2007 8:14 pm

One of the leading Islamic calligraphers Khalil al-Zahawi has been shot dead outside his home in the New Baghdad District. Al-Zahawi (May God have mercy upon his soul) was highly regarded in the Ummah for his classical Arabic script.If we are to look back into our History books, which unfortunately our Masjids do not tend teach, it can be seen that Baghdad had played an important role in the emergence of the Islamic Golden age.

Under the Command of Khalid Ibn Waleed, the newly created Islamic Empire moved into the region of Iraq. By about 762 A.D., the Abbasid dynasty took over rule of the vast Muslim world and moved the capital to the newly founded city of Baghdad, which over the next 5 centuries had made Baghdad into the world’s centre of education and culture. Baghdad now has become the world’s centre of death and destruction due to the war launched for the sake of the most brutal racist state of Israel.

It was in Baghdad where the Islamic Scholars contributed to the subjects of medicine, mathematics, astronomy, chemistry, literature, and more.

Also including that the worlds leading Islamic Scholars had their educational roots in Baghdad. One of the most famous centres of learning was Bayt al-Hikmah (the House of Wisdom) that had attracted scholars from all over the world from many cultures and religions. Here, teachers and students worked together to translate Greek manuscripts, preserving them for all time. They studied the works of Aristotle, Plato, Hippo crates, Euclid, and Pythagoras. The House of Wisdom was home to, among others, as well as the most famous mathematician of this period: Al-Khawarizmi, the "father" of algebra (which is named after his book "Kitab al-Jabr").

While Europe festered in the Dark Ages, Baghdad was thus at the heart of a vibrant and diverse civilization. It was known as the world’s richest and most intellectual city of that period, and was second in size only to Constantinople.
I ask the Muslim Community of Britain to do dua for Khalil al-Zahawi, his family and for the Muslim Ummah. We also ask you to come and join the Muslim communities and organisations, which were once filled with diversity, intellectuality and great values that are based upon the Quran and Sunnah.
We are more powerful together than we are apart.

PoetryMay 26, 2007 1:59 am

Irfan is ogling and stareing once more;

He will trip up and get ensnared somewhere.

You wrong me and then ask naively;

My Good Sir, How are you getting on today?

I am perplexed and understand not what it all means;

She is holding out a promise and i smile incredulously.

Indeed, it is I that am pitted against my heart, It is I that am cruel;

And you are the glory, the mine, and the life of fidelity.

Of all virtues, faithfulness alone managed to escape you and fell to my lot;

Otherwise which of the good qualities have you left for the world?

The same old greumbling over separation, the same whining about love;

Have you no other story to tell, O Irfan?

The mischevious eye, the roving glance, the gay look;

You must remould your face to find a place for modesty in it.

Irfan stays put wherever he sits;

He is not one of those that will quit your assembly.

I am being carried away by my passionate love and she tells all;

Look, how befuddled one gets by too much drinking.

Separation from the beloved and the company of the ascetic;

There is so much to torture one even in paradise.

I had just got a chance to plead my love in private;

Lo appeared there my death sentence.

Perfect hopelessness leads to indifference;

You have peace of mind when you have no desires.

The skirt of hope is not above ones reach;

The responsibility for the failure to reach it lies with the hand that falls short of it.

I did not see the face of the joys that once were mine;

It is wrong to say that the days and nights are still revolving.

The travellers bound for the Ka’aabah arrived at the same resting place;

The only difference being that some came one way and others pursued another path.

It is true only of springtude;

The days of youth return not.

The memory of the beloved visits every mind with a peculiar anguish;

The complaint of one person bears no resemblance to that of another.

Of the truth of this sorrow ask the withered rose;

Who does not recall the days of youth in old age!

What use is it if you pray to God a thousand times!

The true prayer is one that sometimes springs from the heart.

 

 

 

 

 

PoetryMay 19, 2007 11:48 am

“Life means a passionate burning, an urge to make,
To cast in the dead clay the seed of heart.”

O friends who carry the stones
Striking each other to create sparks

Would you throw them to the mire
If after a try or two they make no fire?

Would you not hit them again and again
Until the moment you see the flame plain?

O friends who are in distraction lost
In your remembrance of Lord of Alast

O those who are in confusion embarrassed
When before Him your forehead is placed

O those who in forgetfulness ruined
When His nearness have you gained

O those who fall asleep
When to Him you want to leap

Dishearten not!
Tighten the knot (of hope)!

One day the devil will lose his game
All his tricks shall one day be lame

Give up not your habit of repeated trial
One day shall you fall in His lovers’ file

Every ignorant hypocrite has days of faith
Didn’t these lines fall in my fate?

Therefore,
Keep to your self the stones of spirit
For, they shall one day Sinai-like fire emit

And if you strike them like al Mustafa-
That Sweet Beloved of Lord-
(sallallahu alaihi wa sallam)

Greater will be the fire from Mount of Nur
For, old-fashioned is the talk of Mount of Tur

MediaMay 11, 2007 5:53 pm

PoetryMay 10, 2007 8:36 pm

‘Tis has been quite long
A secret of love
Have I made known

My soul thrives
On love alone
Its mission is
To reveal the unknown

But this time
I shall make you speak:
Nightingale to quite remain
And, Rose shall speak plain

Lord has in me inspired
A truth to be revealed

O Friend!
Tell me when in life
Would you most joy feel?

Reply:
“It is indeed the time
When I’d meet with ‘My Him’”

O Heart!
Tell me when in life
Would you most pain feel?

Reply:
“It is indeed the time
When I’d face my end”

O Friend!
“Tell me the one in life
Whom you love most”

Reply:
“Love endears remembrance
Infidelity comes from Indifference”

O Friend!
You have always told
Truth golden in ways bold

Now hear what I say, for
This is not a word for play

Recall the moment when-
Meem reached Highest Heaven
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

Even as he stood closer
Than ‘two bow lengths’
Facing the Ultimate Realty
He remembered his faithful folk

Recall the moment when
Meem had his soul taken

Even as Azraeel
Hesitantly arrived
Love for his caravan
In his heart overflowed

To his Lord he prayed
Death’s pain be halved (for them)

O Freinds !
We are am,from, among those
From his garden a rose

We are among those
Rays which by Meem glows

We are among those
Our love for him aroused

O Friend!
He remembered we humans
When he stood over the angels

O Friend!
He remembered we sinners
When such devout life was to end

His love for us was the most
Mothers’ wouldn’t be as close

Madina was
The motherland of love

Madina is
The capital of mercy

Madina will
Be the gate of paradise

How else could the truth reveal
Which Lord make this sinner feel

My lips can move
So that I greet his love

My pen can write
So that his praises continue

My eyes blink
Wet can they become in his thoughts

My soul is still with me
Ah! I can love him in return!


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Notes

  • There are two occasions when we feel the biggest joy and pain respectively. The greatest moment of joy for a believer would be the sight of his Creator, which he shall enjoy in the paradise. And death is the time when we feel pain in extreme. “There is no god but Allah. Death is full of agonies.” [Sahîh al-Bukhârî, 2/640]

    During the two moments mentioned above, the person involved in it can remember nothing or no one except his or her most dearest person. Remembring the beloved one during critical times is the test of true love.

    There is Blessed One who during his lifetime reached the Highest Point and beyond during the night of Miraj to meet with his Lord. But even during that moment, he did not forget his faithful followers. The same Servant of Allah, when he was breathing his last, was also concerned and full of love for the believers. He is really the one who loves us the most, more than our mothers. And in return, he is to be loved the most. And that is why we conclude, Madina is the motherland of love, the capital of mercy, the gate of paradise!

    Sallallahu ala Muhammad, sallallahu alaihi wa sallam