The Ocean

 Ocean, you’re black; ocean, you’re blue 

You choose garments of many a hue

Ocean, you’re grey; ocean, you’re  green

Moody? Playful? Wild? Or Mean? 

Lovingly gentle, you can lap at the shores 

Or rage and storm with deafening roars

You can let mighty cruisers sail without sinking 

Or swallow them whole - in an eye’s blinking

Ocean, o ocean how soft is your touch

So silky so smooth so extravagantly plush 

Yet sharp as a knife, huge caverns you carve

And bite off big boulders - you will not starve!

Deep are your dungeons, and dark are your ways

Mysterious and awesome are your hidden pathways

Currents are your highways for migrating denizens 

Hurtling along in search of new tenements 

 

Busy are your nooks and filled are your crannies 

With mums, and dads and siblings and grannies

Of creature quite bright and of creatures quite pale

As large as a whale or as small as a snail

Treasures you hide, no one knows what lies 

In the folds of your gut, in the rise  of your tides

Abundance of life forms survive in your waters 

You are their world, you’re all that matters.

O ocean, great ocean you are the key 

To the evolution of life, to the making of me.

You source the clouds, you bring the rain

On mountains, deserts, woodlands and plains. 

Sleepy and lazy, you are almost benign 

But alert: God’s agent, with a keen watchful eye

Witnessing man’s mad and mean machinations 

You can turn in a flash, demand reparation

A reminder that all arrogance must fall

A tsunami, you rise and devour it all.

Then roll on: it’s business as usual for you

While abased and humbled, man starts life anew.

The River

 

I - an ancient river - am old and wise

On-the-go always, in the hills I rise.

My journey is long, as I tumble down hills

And into the oceans my water spills.

 

When dark clouds gather and it rains

I crawl over banks to flood my plains.

I bless all the fields with mineral-rich soil,

So you can grow grain, without any toil. 

 

Having hurried down mountains, I stop to breathe

Meandering and lazy as slow as I please.

I sprawl out and flatten, reflecting the sky

The clouds and birds as they fly in the high.

 

The fishermen throw in their nets to catch

Fish I am rich in, batch after batch.

Deep in my belly the brave divers find

Pink and white pearls of every kind.

 

I - an ancient river - I am rich

I have plenty of wealth and I like to give.

Water I give, and fresh fish to eat,

I let you ride me: boat, canoe – fleet!

 

But, you! O human, you! What have you done?

You’ve used me and trashed me, spoilt all the fun.

You have taken my joy, now I am filthy and grey,

Head low, I flow slow, with nothing to say.

Afshan Ali

The Summer of 2019 - Day 2

We were up ripe and early. It had been a cold night with the wind making its own music on the the fragile plastic tent right up to the early hours. We did not brave the weather to see the sun rise, although it was a tempting prospect. As the day grew though, and it became warmer, we emerged, showered and breakfasted. 

Mohammad slept on though :) while we chilled. 

 


It was a lovely morning – all the discomfort of the night before were forgotten. I settled down to read my book – something I haven’t done in years, preferring to listen and watch most of the time.
Later, with breakfast done, Mo browsed, I read, and Insh and Mahdi went of on a trek - equipped with a bucket and a net - in search of a brook to study the bugs that lived in the water. 

After the Prophet is an engrossing read - giving an interesting insight into how Islamic History appears from the outside - to a relatively unbiased writer - trying to understand what led to the unfolding of events that followed the death of the prophet. 

Mahdi is a tireless walker - he can go on and on, and now he was in his element  - vigorous and energetic, in wellies, ready for any adventure that came his way. 
The gentle breeze, the silence not disrupted by city noises, and the sun stealing through the clouds to warming my skin every now and then - i spent some of my most idyllic moments. 
Before we left the camp - Mahdi had some Mamu time. :)

 

We left Upper Hurst Farm - in search of the elusive Ice-cream shop in Tagg Lane - the makers of the creamiest, most satisfyingly flavoursome ice cream ever. What makes a visit to this ice-cream parlour more exciting is that it is in the middle of no where. Surrounded by fields and grasslands in all directions - the Tagg Lane farm is a lone building, ordinary and small, something that you can drive by without even noticing it, unless, of course you are actually looking for it. And we  - we always have our eyes peeled for it. 
Surprisingly, Tagg Lane Ice-cream is quite popular, especially at this time of the year - particularly with bikers; and inevitably we meet a bunch of motor bike enthusiasts taking a break - ice-creaming here. The gleaming silver and black motor bikes and their riders in professional gear and helmets, lent an exciting ambience to the small parlour. Mahdi went off with Mamu to get his ice cream. 

THE SUMMER OF 2019

Saturday – 20th July – we drove off at 8:51am – not early enough from Mohammad’s point of view - his target was 6:30! Fairly good from mine - considering that we’d been working through the week. Definitely better than Friday afternoon though, which Mo had been rooting for, for the past one week. Immediately after school, he said. I’ll pick you up at the gate and we drive off - pack up Thursday night and stack the car, he said. In the last week of school?! With innumerable things on the list of things to do?! It was an impossibility. Thankfully, he conceded. And we settled for 6:30am, Saturday morning. Alhamd.

 

Mohammad’s newly bought Land-rover was about to take us off on an often-dreamed-but-never-lived adventure – with just a vague idea of where we would be spending the next night and absolutely no idea of where our next breakfast would be. Quite exciting, really! TBH, we were heading off to Peak District... generally; but specifically... had no idea exactly where, once there. Over the past week Mo had been researching while Insha and I got on with our last week of school. And, thanks to Maulana Google, (christened by Sh Z) found a number of farms we could tent up in around Peak District. 

While, Insha, in the back seat, called around to find the ideal place, I settled down to enjoy myself. The weather was lovely, pleasantly warm, albeit cloudy. Honestly, just the way I like it. I don’t really care for too much sun and sweat – stops my mind from thinking rationally. The drive was relaxing, Mahdi was in his usual chirpy mood with his torrent of questions. In the background we had ABBA’s lilting tunes punctuated with Julie Andrews’ catchy and ever green songs from the Sound of Music to keep Mahdi entertained. 

Upper Hurst Farm – our final choice – was a small place packed with families in caravans and tents. We were high up, surrounded by rolling hills checkered with farms in different shades of green as far as the eye could see where the land met the white, overcast sky. The Skyline was spotted with brief patches of darker-green wooded areas – picture perfect.

It was steadily growing colder – for which we were not as prepared as we should have been – but the warmth of the novelty of the experience kept us cheery. Mahdi was thrilled to bits. Quite in his element. In a thin t-shirt and shorts, he insisted he was warm. They set up the wickets for a round of  cricket as the wind literally threatened to carry away the tent! Mo made tea – we drank and watched. 

Surat Al Hijr 6 -11

بِسْمِ ٱللَّـهِ ٱلرَّحْمَـٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ

They said, ‘O you, to whom the Reminder has been sent down, you are indeed crazy.(6)

Why do you not bring us the angels should you be truthful?!’ (7 ) 

We do not send down the angels except with due reason, and then they will not be granted any respite. (8) 

Indeed We have sent down the Reminder, and indeed We will preserve it. (9)

Certainly We sent [apostles] before you to former communities, (10) 

and there did not come to them any apostle but that they used to deride him. (11)

Qarai

___________________________

Bismillahhir Rahmannir Raheem

Above ayats are quite explicit in themselves – and what is obvious is: the basic mindset has not really changed. We may be living in the computer age: flying supersonic jets, manufacturing organs in factories and sky diving for thrills – but, the human beings have not come very far in actually ‘knowing themselves’.

Who are we? Why are we here? Where have we come from? Where are we going to? Is there a purpose to life?

We are not really troubled by any of these questions. And, even if they do occasionally appear on the screens of our mind, we ‘change page’ and divert ourselves – there is too much happening in our lives at present to be bothered – to be bothered about the great eventuality – that all of us must die and return, perhaps to where we came from.  And that is a great shame.

Prophets, over centuries have tried to guide and educate, to cajole and coax man to think - but the human race has always rebelled – been a non conformist, unfortunately, responding only to the ‘rule of the whip’. We more easily obey a tyrant – the gentle Warner has always been met with derision, disregard and disrespect.

It is important to acknowledge that the Prophets were here only to nudge us in the right direction. Time and time again, Allah (swt) says about the Prophets in the Quran that they are but ‘Warners’. They are here to educate and train us – if we allow them. It is not their responsibility to ‘exercise the whip’. They are to show the way and leave it up to man to ‘think’ and make the right choices. 

And, the mechanism for this is already implanted – all true knowledge is already embedded in our minds – we only have to access it by using our ability to ‘think’ – to open The Book of Truth and read. Man, to be fair, has been doing it – the clear proof being his evolution from being a cave dweller to a space traveller. However, somewhere along the line – progress in this world – which was really, only a means to an end, has become the end in itself. We have ‘forgotten’ that we are only travellers, journeying through this life on earth. There is a greater mission we are on. We have come from somewhere and we will be going forward to someplace else. 

Therefore, NOW, while we are alive, is the time to open up ‘The Book’ saved in the folder our mind, and allow the truth to reveal itself. It is time to ‘remember’. Get off the high horse of heedlessness, liberate from the shackles of self indulgence and use this time – the most precious wealth – to recognise that life in this world is an opportunity to get an ‘upgrade’ in the greater scheme of things.

Subhanallah!

Iltemase dua for the awakening of the Human Intellect

SURAT AL HIJR 1 - 5

بِسْمِ اللَّـهِ الرَّحْمَـٰنِ الرَّحِيمِ

Alif, Lam, Ra. These are the signs of the Book and a manifest Quran. (1)

Much will the faithless wish that they had been Muslims. (2)

Leave them to eat and enjoy and to be diverted by longings. Soon they will know. (3)

We did not destroy any town but that it had a known term. (4)

No nation can advance its time nor can it defer it.  (5)

_______________________

Bismillah Hir Rahmaan nir Raheem

When all is revealed, Inshallah,  – there will be regret from the people who did not submit – those who rebelled, unwilling to acknowledge the truth of the signs that have been sent down over the centuries through the teachings of the Prophets, and through holy scriptures, culminating in the final words: the Holy Quran.

In this world there are numerous diversions – both in terms of seeking sensual pleasures (pleasures for eyes, ears, taste and touch) and desires (longing for these pleasures – perhaps out of reach – yet there to be had) that preoccupy man. And there is opportunity to do both, Allah (swt) has given everyone the time – albeit fixed. And people have been given the power of intellect and freedom of choice on how to use this time. They are free to spend ALL their time enjoying themselves pandering to their whims and desires, wallowing in all the pleasures and excitement this world can provide. 

Soon enough though, they will find out for themselves (a moment of haq ul Yaqeen!). When the truth about the purpose of this life  becomes evident – man will, inevitably, accept that the Quran is the book of Truth and in it all the signs have been manifest for people to take lessons from for centuries. He will acknowledge that nations afore were given a ‘fixed time’ and opportunity to prove themselves;  and this ‘time’, came to an end; and they were annihilated. He will realise that no people can extend their window of life on this earth beyond the prescribed limit.

And then will come the REGRET.  REGRET he cannot escape from. REGRET that is perpetual for eternity.

If only, if only...he had put his time to better use.

An extended discussion on time:

For example – people might think that science is extending its boundaries and new medical advancement means that life’s tenure is extendable. But that is man’s naivety – this ability to use science to rejuvenate himself is also a part of this ‘term’ allowed to man – different peoples over centuries have had different life expectancies, depending on the circumstances and the environment they are living in. Therefore, yes, it is a matter of great pride for man that he has used his intellect to an excellent advantage by speeding his mental evolution; nevertheless, he must recognise that this ability itself is only an ‘opportunity’ resulting from the ‘intellect and freedom of choice’ bestowed on him. He must also, if he is wise, recognise that this ‘progress’ (that is perhaps making him arrogant) is also ‘terminal’ and is subject to ‘fana’. An earthquake, a tsunami, a fire or even a computer virus can bring the progress of this world to an absolute, perhaps irrevocable standstill. The One who has given the opportunity – can take the opportunity away too.

Subhanallah!

Iltemase dua for the awakening of the human intellect.

The Peaceful Souls

  

As the setting sun said bye,

And shut his eyelids for the night, 

'Salam!’ said the moon, ‘It’s time to rise!'

Called out to the stars, 'Lets fill the skies!'

'On an exciting adventure let us go

Cities and towns let's go explore!'

Off she sailed across the sky,

By low valleys and mountains high.

Silver she painted the roofs and trees

Silvery waves making silvery seas.

As she looked down on cities in sleep,

Towns and villages in slumbers deep;

All of a sudden from the edge of her eye,

A tiny gold light, in the distance she spied.

Who could be up at this late, late hour?

Over this window she paused to hover.

Two faces were shining, emanating light.

Two hands raised in prayer, a wonderful sight.

One face: a lady’s so peaceful and calm.

The other: a little boy, still by her arm.

The moon looked around this simple, small room

Two millstones, a stove, a mat and a broom

And nothing besides - the room was bare

Yet shining! She thought - rich beyond compare!

The moon waited - patient. She heard the lady say:

'God help my neighbours on each step of their way.

The hungry, the poor, the lonely, the needy

The traveller, the orphan, the sick and weary.

God, feed them and keep them all safe from harm’s way

God, ease their pain, I beseech you, I pray.'

A beautiful prayer, thought the moon as it lingered

And heard the little boy, soft, as he whispered,

'What about us mum? Shall we pray for us?'

His mother smiled gently, 'Yes, let’s pray for us …

Now that we’ve asked God for peace on our neighbours

It is time to beseech Him for Mercy on ours.

Remember, it’s selfish to pray for ourselves

Before we seek God’s blessings for those around us.'

Faces lifted, hands rose, lips parted again

In prayer for self: ‘Allah, You hold the rein

Of life. Control our thought, action and speech;

Steer and direct our course so we reach -

You – O Fashioner, O Origin and Destination –

Perfected: forged, hammered, shaped - patient

Worthy, tranquil souls, at peace with Your Will.'

The moon tarried longer  - curious and still.

'Who are these two graceful people?' she thought               

Who've traded their sleep, seeking closeness to God?'

A passing star whispered: 'Fatima and Hasan.'

The Prophet's daughter and his little grandson.'

‘What a privilege it is,’ thought the moon in a daze

‘To witness this amazing moment of praise,

'May Allah's peace be on them.' star heard her say.

As once more on her journey she drifted away.