By Novid Shaid, Ramadan, 2010
O You, who love to demonize
our Prophet, Nabi Muhammad,
know this:
that we love him more
than you love your own identities.
.
Our Love
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Monthly Archives: August 2010
Are You Lonesome Tonight?
Novid Shaid, 2003, Copyright
Are you lonesome tonight?
Are you friendless tonight?
Is your world fractured apart?
Has your love turned and fled?
Has your loyal heart bled?
It’s not worth living, apart.
Shall I show you a friend?
Recommend you a friend?
Your woes, His love will consume
And His veil He will rend,
And His charms have no end,
His warmth will comfort your gloom.
The Homecoming of My Old Friend.
Novid Shaid, 2003, Copyright
One day, a painful memory shook my heart,
My old friend had served me since my birth,
And I had cast him out onto the street,
Denying his undying faithfulness.
Ramadan Poem
by Novid Shaid, August, 2010
When the crescent revealed its heavenly smile
The spirit of Layla suddenly brushed past me.
I stood entranced as she whispered in my ear
Give up your food and water just for me
And shed your sins, and multiply your prayers
Then I will follow you wherever you may go,
I’ll breathe a breeze of love into your heart,
Be still and remember I am your special friend.
The Feasts Of Ramadan
By Novid Shaid, 1997
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Rumbling bellies, parched mouths,
Searing scents wafting from our breaths,
Empty lunch trays, dizzy spells.
These familiar images appeared in our heads
as our Maulvi announced the good news
the sighting of the moon
and the beginning of a blessed month.
We braced ourselves
and prepared our minds, envisaging
Thirty days of fasting,
our stomachs hollow from dawn to dusk.
We knew the feeling,
our Mothers’ gentle nudges before dawn,
our early cups of tea and large breakfasts,
And that solemn utterance of signing our fast,
“And I intend to fast tomorrow”.
We could see ahead,
The anticipation for the setting sun,
The heavenly feeling
of mango juice coating our abandoned throats,
The community united in the mosque for Taraweeh prayer,
The rowdy lot sniggering in the back rows,
The marathon rakats on Layla Tul Qadr,
Oh and of course our prize at the finish line