Saturday, 28 April 2012

Reminiscing Muharram 1433


Muharram 1433 was somewhat a revolutionary occurrence in the Sajjad household this year. First off, Alhamdhulillah we were able to see this holy month once again this year, commemorating the tragedy of Imam al Hussain (as) once more, and with increasing sincerity. There is not a feeling in the entire Universe that soothes and satisfies the soul like shedding tears for Aba Abdillah (as). The way the spirit of Muharram binds us as a community, serving this one cause is like no other.


Growing up, like many youngsters, I did not appreciate the true value of this treasure. I thought it would be enough to physically attend traditional Urdu majalis at our local mosque. Having no regard to the spiritual or emotional aspect of Muharram, I would spend the nights in mindless chatter and behaviour. My ignorant teenage years. However, as the years went on, I grew as a person. I matured being placed in different environments, surrounded by different people. At times life presented me with the most unexpected scenarios, were they in the form of sudden deaths, academic failures, bickering family members or disloyal friends, I decided enough was enough. I was sick and tired of this routinely, selfish lifestyle I followed putting everything else in my life before Allah (swt). 


In search of inspiration, I started volunteering at my local mosque hoping it would help me connect better with my Lord. Alongside adhering to obligations to the best of my ability, I would get involved in simple things like, cleaning up after children (and their mothers), initiating salam to the popular girls at the mosque and so on. Such activities would keep my heart content. I also started attending Islamic events more regularly. The idea of befriending likeminded followers of Ahlulbayt (as) made me happy. It still does. I joined Islamic forums online in attempt fill in the gaps in my limited knowledge. During my time on these forums, I was introduced to some of the loveliest people with the most genuine of hearts who influenced my decision to attend live English majalis for the first time during the first 10 days of Muharram. 


So, one November evening I plucked up the courage to ask my dad if I would be allowed to attend these gatherings, travelling one hour to the other side of London, in the blistering cold weather, during awkward hours of the night. And just like that he said “yes”. Not a second thought was given. I just thought Subhanallah, how decisions are swayed in the name of Imam al Hussain (as), that even someone as stubborn as my father would surrender at the mention of this great personality. (I know it seems a bit petty, but if you knew my dad, you’d understand...) Indeed Allah (swt) is the best of planners.


Accompanied by my brother, we set off plodding our way up the high road towards the station to attend our first Muharram majlis of 1433. It was cold, dark and wet, but worth every step for Aba Abdillah (as). The struggle made our remembrance that little bit sweeter.


The lectures recited by the honourable Sayed Hossein Al-Qazwini were absolutely brilliant. He covered a range of extremely relevant topics over the 10 nights. Great structure of delivery for the English-speaking/youth/reverts of our community. 


Sayed Hossein Al-Qazwini



Asalam Majlis - Scout House


8th, 9th and 10th Muharram aside, the eve of the first of Muharram, in my opinion, was the most blessed night. I read a line that night that couldn’t be more befitting: “After a year of being drowned in falsehood, beauty emerges...” and how beautiful a gathering it was in honour of Fatima al Aleela (sa) (Lady Fatima Sughra), the daughter of Imam al Hussain (as) who was unable to accompany her family to Karbala due to her illness. It was a very different experience to the typical Urdu majalis I had been attending up to now. This year our local centre hosted the lovely Maulana Ghulam Hussain Adeel of Hidayat TV (Sky 803), which I had the honour of listening to only on the 10th of Muharram. May I add, it was the most heartbreaking recital of the Maqtal I’ve ever listened to in my entire life. Post Ashura, whenever I was alone, I’d just sit and close my eyes. I’d remember Maulana Adeel’s voice that day and all the raw emotion displayed through it – I’ll never forget. Just like that, the 10 days flew by as if they never came.  All the stress, all the numbness, all emotions released. How I wanted to relive those days all over again, only Allah (swt) knows. Even until Arba3een and Eid al Zahra (marking the end of the mourning period), I was not ready to let go so easily. I wanted to live and die eternally in this grief, in this beautiful darkness.


My best attempt to keep this remembrance alive within me was though recitation of Ziyarat Ashura:




Peace be upon you O’ Aba Abdillah!
And the souls that clustered in your presence
Upon you, from me, the Salaam of Allah
Forever, so long as I live and as long as the days and nights endure...
And may Allah not make this the last Ziyarat of mine
Peace be upon you O’ Hussain, and upon Ali the son of Hussain,
And upon the sons of Hussain, and upon the companions of Hussain.

***

O’ Allah! To you belongs all praise, the praise of the grateful to You on their afflictions
All praise is to Allah on the greatness of my grief
O’ Allah! Grant me the intercession of Hussain on the Day of Arrival
And keep me steadfast, a firm footing before You with Hussain & the companions of Hussain
Peace be upon those who gave their life without regret for Hussain (ع)



Initially I decided to recite it for 40 days, but it eventually became a habit for me and I lost track of the days. Reciting this ziyara after Salatil Fajr made my heart smile, it’s the reason I cry.


Finding solace in the sanctuary of Aba Abdillah (as) meant my desire to visit the holy lands increased day by day. My decision was made. I wanted to be at one with my Beloved. Each and every thought of mine now belonged to karbala. How the dormant volcano of my heart finally erupted, overflowing with my love and longing to visit these pure lands.


Imam Ja’far al Sadiq (as) states: “When Allah (swt) wants to favour a believer, He puts in his heart a yearning to visit Imam al Hussain (as).”


No words of mine shall ever suffice this yearning and anguish deep within my heart. I can only pray Allah unites me with my Master, and soon.


“Can one who the heart has stolen...be worlds apart from his servant?”


Allahuma Irzoqna Ziyarat al Hussain (ع)    

Saturday, 17 March 2012

Spiritual Revolution - A Poem

Bismillah...

Salam Alaykom

This poem was written in honour of the blessed wilada occasions of our Masters Ameerul Mu’mineen Imam Ali (as), Sayed Shohada Imam al Hussain (as) and Abu Fadhl Abbas (as). Coinciding with the Arab spring, I attempted to draw parallels between the two themes and this is what I came up with.

I thought it was pretty decent considering I’d just recovered from a one-year writer’s block, had a deadline, and finished it at 3am. However, reading it now after 7 months, there are definitely some gaps which need to be filled. Meh. I hope you enjoy reading it, let me know what you think :-)


________


Days like these disclose mysteries of the heart.
They seek to rekindle dormant flames, illuminating the shadows that surround our hearts.
Intellect of man is forced to wonder, why the glorious sun shys away behind clouds so tender.
Or why the moon veils its beauty in silken black?
Listen, as zephyrs congregate in their remembrance.
 Listen as they recite a ballad of the ages, presented through golden scriptures and pages.
A time in shackles, it silently yearned for a new dawn, a truth.
The Kaba split, the birth of truth.
The sun emerged as if God’s own Noor has descended from the heavens to the earth.
The Prophet’s eyes glistened as he handled his brother, a protector and friend, for mankind a lover.
Ya Ali... The one who cradled the religion in his arms, at Khaybar who threatened to split the world in half.

Ya Haidar... Words would drown and sentences would diminish into the ink of this world, describing your essence.
Your valour, your class, could only be transcribed into the hands of Abbas.
That Hashimite moon, that glistens in the sky.
Nay! It glistens in the pupils of every lover’s eye.
The one who steers our floating dreams.
Set your heart sail in the sea of Abbas.
Let his name govern your speech.
Ya Bab al Hawaij! You are the station no one could reach.
He reflected Asadullah in the shine of Dhulfiqar.
Yet no individual was able to outshine this Alamdaar.
The embodiment of faith, to whom faith pays allegiance.
No leaf has quivered nor constellations formed without the consent of Abbas and ofcourse, our Lady of light, Fatima al Zahra.
Without whom we would not have been.
This entire universe and everything within.
When the Lord said, “Kun”, and it was.
A loyal warrior, an illustration of beauty.
Abbas reminisces.
He cannot remain calm, but who can extinguish the fiery flames of this lion’s heart?
A voice calls out “brother!” and he replys, “Master!”
It is none other than his beloved Hussain.

Now cast your minds to a revolution of eternity as we sit in the examination of this world.
No man, no jinn, no realm of time.
From apparent dimensions to hidden designs will ever comprehend the greatness of Hussain.
This love, this light, the Ark of Salvation.
A lighthouse for some, for some a destination.
A king who sacrificed everything he had.
From his glossy gem sons to rose daughters so delicate, to uphold the identity of Islam.
In all suffering envisioned nothing but beauty.
Constructed a University of Justice within hours, taught how to stand firm in the face of wrong...
And so chants are echoed from street to square.
White fist are raised high in the air.
Hussain is their crown and they do not look back, whether they are faced with bullets and deadly attacks.
Allah is the goal and surely they return...Allah is the goal and surely they return...

This land is only for a day or two and all its processions will crumble to dust.
Ruthless tyrants indulged in worldly lusts.
Justice will prevail in the hands of the One.
Al Hujjah, Al Qa’im, the final rising sun.
From Falasteen to Bahrain, flags will flutter, freedom will cheer and jealousy will mutter, but God’s promise will be fulfilled.

Ask me about revolutions and I will say: no words can describe the tragedy of genocide.
I never held a mother while she mourned over the corpse of her son, or consoled a sister as she gazed with lifeless eyes.
Ask me about revolutions and I will say: even silence is a crime.

Afreen Sajjad - 9/7/11


Thursday, 13 October 2011

Oh Dear...

Bismillah

Okay, first things first, sincere apologies to anyone who reads this blog. I haven't checked it since my last post which was about a month ago. I obviously need to get used to the concept of blogging, and that I need to update every now and then.

So, what I'm saying is, "I'm sorry". Will promise to start posting regularly as long as my studies don't weigh me down eventually dragging me into a pit of eternal doom. -Sigh-

Thursday, 22 September 2011

Well hello there! Salam, Hola, Shalom, Bonjour, Namaste, Ni Hao...

Salaam,

I've always been fascinated by bloggers and the world of blogging. In my early teens, I loved reading about people's experiences of life and how they handled situations. From wild hijabi fashionista blogs to more composed poetry blogs. Islam, marriage, cooking, knowledge, you name it. I was hooked to the computer screen, following interesting strangers in their day-to-day lives.

Many years passed, then on a random evening in September 2011, something clicked... I wanted my own little space to VENT. It finally came to me! Blogging ofcourse!

I hope everything I write here will scream my personality out to you and I hope you'll enjoy reading my random musings.

Until the next post (which should be very soon!) take care of yourself.