Poetry Recital At Oxford University ISOC, 2015
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Interview with MuslimView’s Masud Ahmed Khan
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WHAT IS ON THE MENU FOR SAHOOR?
WHAT IS ON THE MENU FOR SAHOOR?
Fried eggs sizzling, paratha from tandoor?
Buttered paratha in the shape of the full moon?
Paratha filled with succulent Aloo?
Now that would be so absolutely cool!
In Ramadan I just appreciate the food!
WHAT IS ON THE MENU FOR IFTAAR?
Biryani made with chicken and piyaar?
Mango milkshake, my wife is such a star!
Homemade samosa and pakora!
So spicy they would tantalise a Gora!
In Ramadan the food is best by far!
WHAT WILL BE MY WORSHIP FOR TARAWEE?
Speeding through rakats in such a hurry?
Coz I’m feeling bloated from the curry?
Head and heart pulsating in a flurry?
I need to sleep, Allah, I am so sorry!
In Ramadan, take your time, no need to worry!
“WHAT WILL THEY GAIN TONIGHT?” The angels surveyed.
“Nice suhoor? So, they feel strong at day?”
“Light Iftar, so they feel light to pray?”
“Recite Quran, to clear the disarray?”
“Staying up to perform Qiyam Al Layl?”
“In Ramadan, the nafs can fade away…”
“There’s no fear or grief from these pure days…”
Locked Down
One night as I sat
Shackled up by Facebook
The jitters from the Twitter
Filled my body and my face shook
The trap of the Whatsapp
Enwrapped my intentions
But a voice from beyond
Just arrested my attention
Sallahu ala Muhammad! Sallahu alayhi was sallam!
Locked down to the ground
Of the multiplicity
My heart was aground
A beleaguered city
Spellbound in the haze
Of my lusts’ euphoria
But the voice cleared away
The phantasmagoria
Sallahu ala Muhammad! Sallahu alayhi was sallam!
I arose with a heave
Enclosed by acedia
My head leaking facts
From the Wikipedia
My eyes bleeding tracks
From the social media
But the voice kindled me
I rejoiced with a fever
Sallahu ala Muhammad! Sallau alayhi wa sallam!
I strained to my door
To the ways of the speaker
My phone tingling
Making me feel weaker
My soul signalling
To awake like a seeker
The voice echoing
And the light shone brighter
Sallahu ala Muhammad! Sallahu alayhi wa sallam!
I followed the voice
In my mind’s metropolis
Approached by these hawkers
And hucksters and sophists
They plied me with gadgets
And pure luxuria
But the voice stirred me
Like the Queens of Nubia
Sallahu ala Muhammad! Sallahu alayhi was sallam!
Then beyond the display
Of my urban madness
A pistachio tree
I encountered with gladness
The limbs shivering
With the breezes of Oneness
The leaves whispering
Shimmering with abundance
Sallahu ala Muhammad! Sallahu Alayhi Wa Sallam!
The roots of the tree
Spoke to me in a dialect
The fruits of the tree
Was a map to redirect
“To find the essence
When you’re feeling remoteness
Recite this sentence
Tune in to the gnosis.”
Sallahu ala Muhammad! Sallahu Alayhi Was Sallam!
THANK YOU DEAR NHS!
There’s a group of heroes
Enough we can not stress
That deserve our gratitude
They’re in our NHS!
The doctors and the nurses
And the workers and the porters
They’re helping us negotiate
Covid’s choppy waters!
They’re working 12 hour shifts
They put our safety first
Without their stirling bravery
Our health would be much worse!
Despite the clear adversity
Despite the challenges
Despite the risks to their safety
Despite the ravages
These people just keep fighting on
With undying dedication
They are the darlings of the hour
The pride of all the nation!
Please make their lives more bearable
By staying safe at home
Stem the spread of Corona Virus
Don’t let them fight alone!
We pray that all the blessed staff
Of our great NHS
Manage to steer through this trauma
Without unending stress
And bless the souls who passed away
Whilst caring for patients
They are the martyrs of this war
Which has rumbled since the ancients
So every Thursday clap your hands
Stand by your front door
Say bravo to the NHS!
They serve the rich and the poor.
Sincerity: Inspired by Surah Ikhlas, Chapter 112, Al Quran
Pull your choler through the mud
Collar Beelzebub
Numb your Id
Benumb shrew blood
Succumb through and through to the One True Flood
Notes:
The intention of this piece is to highlight the absolute wonder and majesty of Surah Ikhlas vis a vis the limitations of human endeavour (ie- my own). I also love the sounds and aural qualities of Surah Ikhlas, and I guess I am trying to capture some of the sublime sounds of it within the English language.
Choler- formal- anger
Beelzebub- ancient synonym for the Devil
Id- from Freud’s theories about the subconscious- the Id refers to the hidden desires and obsessions within human consciousness
Shrew- refers to a rebellious personality
Wa La Nablu Wanna Kum
In appreciation of verse 155, Sura Baqarah, Al Quran Al Hakeem
I’d heard this verse
Many times before
But I fell in the world’s momentum
And now I’m drawn,
Like a looping moth
To the light of
Wa La Nablu Wanna Kum
I’d heard this verse
So deep and terse
But I swayed in a sea of fevers
But now I am swept
Like a floating wreck
To the shores of
Wa la Nablu Wanna Kum
I’d heard this verse
With a heart immersed
In the dread of the world’s hysteria
But now the only thing to panic-buy
Is the key for
Wa la Nablu Wanna Kum
I’d heard this verse
In the Friday prayers
While my mind viewed conspiracy theories
But now the fake news
Needs to be rebuked
With the truth of
Wa la Nablu Wanna Kum
I’d heard this verse
In the universe
Of talks and the deen intensives
But now all the notes
And inspiring quotes
Need to act on
Wa la Nablu Wanna Kum
I’d heard this verse
When things were worse
For the poor folk mired in outbreaks
But now the vaccine
For my uncertainties
Is the pledge of
Wa la Nablu Wanna Kum
COVID 19 BY NOVID 77
Dear COVID,
I’m NOVID
And I’m older by 42
I’ve seen the SARS
Mad Cow disease
And AIDS and Avian flu
Bird flu, Man-flu, Ebola
I’ve seen them on the news
And now you’re here, Corona crown
Pandemic so epically
Epidemic of our media age
Behaving untypically
Scourge of men and stock markets
Endemic to the earth
A pulsing strain of pathogens
You’re spreading round your worth!
Soon you may encounter me
Coughing through NOVID then
Coasting through my veins and blood
We’d meet and start to blend
COVID could imbue NOVID
Then I would be your host
Conflated with an acronym
Not such a thing to boast!
Now name-calls in registers
Could make me squirm in shame
People may remember you
When they gaze at my name
I guess if I spread ill like you
They’ll see COVID in NOVID then
I guess if I harass the weak
COVID in NOVID then
Your name could blight me, permanently
No cheer would my name give
Thoughts of dire suffering
By saying just: NOVID
But if I learn the art of love
Like Tiresias transcend
If I spread verse and elegies
OVID in NOVID then!
But If I learn to weather storms
Like Ulysses and his men
If I ride waves of discontent
OVID in NOVID then!
So COVID 19 here you are
With NOVID 77
Perhaps there’s poetic justice
Perhaps there is a blessing
Perhaps through you I’ll know myself
And wash hands for 20 seconds!
By Novid Shaid
Intermandias
For Shelley
I met a traveller from a digital land
Who said: “Two vast and wireless screens and phones,
Stand in some memories. Near them, on discarded toilet rolls,
Spread out, a printed message lies, with fonts
So micro soft, and typefaces for command prompts,
Tell that its printer well that software read
Which yet survive, stamped on these paper sheets,
The ink that stained them and lines that smudged
And on the strips of rolls, it can be read:
‘My name is Intermandias,
Look on my works, ye ancients, and despair!’
Nothing online remains. Round the decay
Of this obsolete tech, boundless and rich
The lone and loving souls stretch far away.”
The Walls- Short Story
Adam and Hira had just turned twenty, when they realised, they were in prison. Now they could see four monumental walls topped with barbed wire to the north, south, east and west. Now they could make out the prison officer uniforms on men and women they had not noticed before. Now they could see other prisoners around them, looking and behaving much like themselves. Fear and anguish grew chains around their hands and ankles; the couple struggled to move as the realisation took hold of them; their breaths quickened and sweat trickled on their heads. How on earth did they not realise this before? Why were they prisoners? What had they done wrong? As far as they knew, they had lived an average life in an average town, following the law of the land, most of the time, and keeping out of trouble. Yet now they found themselves languishing behind towering walls and barbed wire.
Continue readingIf You Dream Of The Valleys Of Kashmir
(CHORUS)
Allah Allah
Laa ilaha illallah (*3)
Allah
If you dream of the valleys of Kashmir,
And the iridescent fields
And listen to the reeds
You’ll find Allah
Continue readingTrue Stories: The Rise and Fall Of Aylesbury Asians (1991/1992) Part 2
Before I begin this second, extended memoir of the Aylesbury Asians saga, I must give an apology. All that is written here is but fragments from my flawed memory and perception, so I ask those whom I have missed out to forgive me, and to those who disagree with my version of things, you are more than entitled to pull me up. May Allah give us the wisdom to say what is beneficial and leave out the nonsense! Ameen! My intention in sharing these stories is to shine a light on the past, with the hope that it brings cheer and nostalgia, which enriches our present moments and futures. I would also like to thank all the people I have mentioned in these accounts for making our collective lives richer, funnier and greater, both then and now. Alhamdulillah, in Aylesbury, us Paks have grown up together, inhaled the same air, walked the same streets and chilled in the same parks. Long may it continue! Ameen!
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