Ayyaan Kirshi Wali and the Majdhoob

.

One night, after a sell-out conference, entitled: “Female, Apostate and Proud”, Ayyaan Kirshi Wali strolled towards her car in the car park outside the convention centre, when her attention was drawn by a most singular woman.

Continue reading →

Before

.

Before, I thought it all a hopeless mess

Imagined all a helpless cry of distress

Considered all a hapless guess

Rejected all a heartless process

Abandoned all, a homeless essence

Until I found it All a hidden blessing

Discovered All a hopeful beginning

Accepted All a history of genesis

Unveiled to All a heavenly gnosis

 

 

 

Law and Love

“We have three reliable witnesses,” explained Mullah Ameer, “who are ready to testify that Azmat Khan consumed whisky and consorted with an unknown courtesan during his nephew’s wedding.” And with that, he gazed across the bare room, where Mullah Ghazi sat against the wall, resting against a cushion. The latter looked worried, like his heart was aching.

“So, he will face the judges and he will feel the penalty. This district will see how serious we are; they will see the law of Allah ruling over them.”

Continue reading →

For Imam Al Hussain, Allah sanctify his secret

.

The prince of truth and martyrdom,

Al Hussain Ibn Ali!

The prince of youth and cherubim,

Al Hussain Ibn Ali!

The denouncer of ignorance,

Al Hussain Ibn Ali!

The splendour of the Prophet’s glance,

Al Hussain Ibn Ali!

Continue reading →

TheTicket

.

Adam suddenly caught glance of it on his windscreen and felt his blood boil like a bubbling volcano. That white slip stuck there like a clumsy plaster on his car. A penalty ticket.

“Oi!” He shouted after the uniformed man, casually strolling ahead. The man promptly swivelled around.

Continue reading →

Sam, the Truth and Good Parents

.

Recently several journalists have sought to interview me about Samantha Lewthwaite because I contributed to a BBC Radio 4 programme about her a few years ago. I chose not to speak this time because I had nothing more to add about her on a personal level.

.

Continue reading →

The Beginning of the End

.

Part One: The Miracle

One of the strangest things I have ever seen, during these years of the infected, is as follows.

It was in the second year of the virus, when they, basically, dominated everything and everywhere. Escaping to another country was pointless. Hoping for a safe haven was fruitless. All there was to do was to survive. So you could only move around in the daylight because at night, hundreds, if not thousands, roamed the streets, with their blazing eyes, raging fists and pounding feet. But daylight didn’t give much respite. When the infected retreated for their daily nap when the sun shone high, you had to be in constant watch for the gangs, the psychos and also the blood suckers. Those who were still kind of rational, but had developed a taste for human blood. Sick times beget sick desires.  But you could fight off the blood-suckers, psychos and the gangs. At least they were still human. A punch to the head. A metal pole to the groin. And they screamed out in pain just like the rest of us.

Continue reading →

Matrimonial

Advert taken from The Azali Times

Requirements:

Male or female

Young or old

Black or White

Rich or poor

Single or married

Divorced or disowned

Total submission needed

Continue reading →

The Robbery

.

“This is a robbery! Everyone put your hands in the air, NOW!”

The large grey-suited man, masked with a brown stocking which made him look like a scarecrow, jumped on the nearest table, pointing his automatic rifle around the bank, as the shrieking employees and customers cowered behind desks.

“I said put your hands in the air! Are you totally thick or something?” He barked aggressively.

Continue reading →

I’m A Muslim Man In Britain

.

                                                  

I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien. Sting            

.

This is what I think it means to be a British Muslim today, who was born and bred in England but hailed from immigrant parents. To have an eclectic medley of voices swirling around in your brain. Living and constantly shifting between different worlds, religions, languages, cultures, traditions and voices, all competing for some kind of hold on your identity, on your spirit, your will. All this baggage, mixed-loyalties, competing face masks and fashions stuffed into a short-lived life, which, for many of us, typically consists of home, school, mosque and holidays to Pakistan and the holy lands or whichever country you hail from.

Continue reading →