I could not visualise Rasul Allah with my mind

Rather my insight just thrived with the thought of Rasul Allah

I could not attune to Rasul Allah with my melodies

Rather my hearing improved with the tunes of Rasul Allah

I could not describe Rasul Allah perfectly with my prose

Rather my prose was perfected with the description of Rasul Allah

I could not send prayers and peace upon Rasul Allah

Rather the prayers and peace sent me to the shores of Rasul Allah…

“I could praise Muhammad (sws) with my words

Rather my words were made praiseworthy by Muhammad (sws)

(homage to Hazrat Hassan bin Thabit radi Allahu Anhu)

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…” 

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!

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.

One day, two men were arrested at the Id Gah mosque in Kashgar and sent away for cultural citizenship education. Onlookers, rather stunned, watched as the men were ushered into the police van, while the accompanying officers scanned around for potential trouble. No one stirred as the officers jumped in the back of the van, next to the men, who were also seated silently. The authorities were expecting a massive uproar from the locals, especially as intelligence had uncovered that these two men were revered as holy men or healers, who lived on the streets and could heal supernaturally. But there was no resistance; no struggles. The locals seemed pacified and the two men just sat there calmly. Just as the van pulled away, a local grocer woman called out: “see you again, insha Allah.”

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