Seven Nufus Were On The Loose

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Seven nufus were on the loose

One day from Ramadan

They met in Sousse for some couscous

Before the maghrib azaan.

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The first, a rioter, the sin-inciter,

The crazy imp, Ammara.

The second ilk, ridden with guilt,

Reproachful soul, Lowwaama.

The third, on fire, with love inspired

The stirring one, Mulhama.

The fourth, serene, like mountain streams,

The earnest, Mutmainna.

The fifth, contented, with perfume scented,

The honourable, Raadiyya.

The sixth, found-pleasing, the love unceasing,

The gracious one, Mardiyya.

The seventh, perfect, from the elect,

The wondrous, Kamila.

 

As they met and sat then began their chat,

Awaiting their great couscous,

Ammara cursed like the devil’s nurse

His face twisted with disgust:

 

“This Ramadan; it does me harm,

I really can’t be bothered!

One whole month, down in the dumps,

Pleasures are banned; O brother!”

 

“I’ll try my best to pass this test,”

Lamented poor Lowwaama,

“I find it hard to stay on guard

I wish I was a llama!”

 

“I can not wait to taste a date

At the end of each day’s fasting

A blessed time will here arrive,”

Mulhama said, forecasting.

 

“Enjoy the food, enjoy the mood,”

Exulted Mutmainna,

“Be pleased with fasting, grace everlasting

Purifying the sinner.”

 

“I am contented with this unprecedented

Occurrence of Divine favour

Each year unique, with special mystique

I love Ramadan,” Said Raadiyya.

 

“I am most pleased with His decrees,”

Celebrated Mardiyya,

“We are so blessed, with Ramadan our guest

It’s sustenance from our Sharia.”

 

“Come join me brothers! Let’s rediscover

Our origins in Ramadan,

We’re nothing but meanings, which is He conceiving,”

Said Kamila, so captivating and so calm.

 

“Don’t give me drama!” argued Ammara

“I ain’t missing out this month, mate!

X-Men will be on, the Euros are on

And a girl has asked me out on a date!

You keep up your fasting, I’ll keep flabbergasting

the ladies with my exhilaration

I ain’t got the time for things so sublime

Ramadan is a scourge on my reputation!”

 

Lowwama got haughty: “you are such a naughty!

Haven’t you got any shame?

I don’t find it easy; I find fasting queasy

But I’ll still have a go all the same.”

 

A smile had arrived upon the other five

Who sat eating their couscous so gently

“Ammara, we’ll guide you, Lowwama we’ll help you

Ramadan will fill you with plenty.

If you listen to us; follow without a fuss

Allah will make you His familiar

In just a brief moment, His works are so potent,

Ammara can become Kamila.

We are seven nufus, we’re all on the loose

And our gathering here was intentional

The prince and the pauper, the sinner and scholar

Ramadan equalises our potential.

We are seven positions, in the Quran we are mentioned,

The seven degrees of the soul

Allah bless Al Shabrawi, wise as the Kalahari,

The author, the crown of the poles.”

 

Notes:

This poem was influenced by the following work:

Degrees of the Soul by Shaykh Abdul Khaliq Al Shabrawi, translated by Dr Mostafa Al Badawi.

 

Nufus. Plural Noun, egos/selves/souls

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About Novid Shaid

I am a Muslim writer and English teacher. I have written poetry, short stories, a play, and I am currently working on a novella. My subject matter and themes are related to Islam, Sufism, politics and also my job as a secondary school teacher. My work is copyrighted and any works published here may not used or copied without my prior consent. You can contact me via the "Contact Me" page, if you wish to use any these writings. I am keen to gain the notice of publishers and if any are interested in my writings, please contact me via the "Contact Me" page. Was salaam, Peace

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