GHUROOR TOOT GAYA KOI MARTBA NA MILA

GHUROOR TOOT GAYA KOI MARTBA NA MILA
JAFA K BAAD B KOI HASIL-E-JAFA NA MILA
SAR-E-HUSSIN(A.S) MILA HY YAZEED KO LAKIN
SHIKAST YE HA K PHR BHI JHUKA HUA NA MILA

Mohram ka roza

*Sayyiduna Abu Hurayra ( radi Allahu anhu ) reported:*
*the Holy Prophet (sallal laahu alaihi wasallam) said,*
**
*After the Fasts of Ramadhan, the best fasts are those observed*
*during Allah (Subhanahu wa ta'ala),s month of Muharram.*
**
*{ Muslim }*
**

Battle of Karbala Par-3

At Karbala the traveller is undone!
An assault upon a Sayyid, loved by all!
In foreign lands can battle e'er be won?
Have mercy on these babes so frail and small.
They die of hunger; thirst has plunged its sword.
They are Your Holy Prophet's family, Lord!

Neither Ali nor the Prophet has been kept
To lead this house so cruelly laid to waste;
For Fatima we mourned, for Hasan wept;
Husain alone remains in kingship placed.
Have mercy! Spare the Refuge of our band!
Our company is lost without his hand.'

Drawing near, the Lord of Heaven spoke:
'Be not thou troubled. All thy prayers are heard.
Our cursed foe all faith and pledges broke,
And now they will learn justice at my word.
This is no time, my sister, for thy tears.
Bring forth the holy relics. Cease thy fears.'

Zainab brought the clothes the Prophet wore
When he went to Heaven on that night.
Husain put on his turban, and once more
He donned the cloak to which he had the right.
Those holy garments fitted perfectly;
The scarf of Fatima, his legacy.

The glorious turban-flaps hung down unfurled;
Like jasmine-perfumed locks they graced his race,
And on his shoulders rested black and curled.
Cathay and far Khotan renounced their place.
Musk and ambergris could not compare
With the scented spikenard twisting in his hair.

The Prophet's fragrance wafted from his train.
No bridegroom knew such perfume from a bride.
Haidar, Fatima, Hasan, Husain.
The scent of the Holy Five on every side
Was squandered on the vale; the swaying flowers!
In Paradise Rizwan rocked in its showers.

The King of Time had donned this fine array;
His sister, blessing him, began to weep:
'Ah Haidar, Hasan! Where are you today?
We roam abroad; where does our mother sleep?
My sweetest Joseph now from us will part;
I die; ah, may the Prophet bless his heart!'

The box of arms was opened by the King;
Zainab, chaste and holy, beat her breast.
The armour wrought in heaven began to sing
The prayers inscribed upon the Leader's chest.
The beauty of its jewels shone out afar
And every link was like a gleaming star.

When Zulfiqar, the mighty sword, appeared,
The King of Heaven kissed its hilt with love.
He weighed it in his hand, and Glory cheered:
'I bow to thy magnificence above.
May victory be thy lot, may triumph flow,
And may thy strike fall squarely on thy foe!'

He fixed the sword that he alone could wield;
The crescent moon grew frantic in the sky;
Up to his shoulder mounted Hamza's shield,
Whose dignity increased when raised on high.
The mark of Prophethood was its proud gain
>From being on the shoulder of Husain.

The Lord of High and Low in arms was dressed;
The Sayyid's standard stood before the hand.
The women, hair dishevelled, were distressed;
His sister clutched the pole with trembling hand.
With swords bound to their waists, on battle bent,
The sons of Zainab came before the tent.

Those rosy-cheeked young boys with valour trod.
Their cloaks tucked in and sleeves rolled up for war.
The might of Ja'far and the Lion of God;
In stature small, hut valiant all the more.
They rubbed their eyes upon the flag and sighed.
In ecstasy to clasp the pole they tried.

They eyed the standard, looked with hopeful eyes
Towards their mother, praising loud the King;
Then taking counsel, sure to win the prize
Quietly said: 'From thee we ask one thing.
Who carries Ali's emblem to the fray?
Who bears our grandsire's standard there today?

For when the King takes counsel, let him know
We have the right, although we dare not ask.
Politeness tells us that we should be slow
In coming forward for this glorious task.
We love and serve the Master of Creation,
But also hope to gain our reputation.

Great heroes in the Prophet's army fought,
But Ja'far gained the greatest honour then.
On Khaibar's field all great distinction sought,
But Ali took the standard of his men.
We may be thirsty, but we fight like lions.
Of Ali and of Ja'far we are scions.'

Zainab answered: 'What is this to you?
Can I advise or sway the Lord of Men?
Please know your place. Accept that which is due.
I shall he angry if you speak again.
Now stand aside, clasp hands and show respect.
Ali Akbar stands alone through your neglect.

Move aside. Go by the standard. There!
Make sure our Heavenly Master does not see.
You come and drive me mad. Now is that fair?
Your behaviour is not good. Please let me be!
You cry, but I can do no more nor less.
As far as I'm concerned that's childishness!

You're babies. Still you crave the highest place.
Well, find a way of putting on some years.
But I admit there's courage in your face.
No one can match you from amongst your peers.
This issue must be weighed up carefully.
No one receives what is not meant to be.

The standard was not made for hands so small.
You are the youngest, though you think you're wise.
Before the Prophet's Grandson you must fall.
This is your duty; here your glory lies.
You wish to fight, but what can be attained?
Today in death alone is honour gained.

What if your forebears won that rich reward?
Do you think it good to steal their reputation?
Real qualities are those shown by the sword.
Let Haidar guide you; aim at Ja'far's station.
You do have Ali's blood, but do not boast.
Be worthy of that title midst the host.

Battle of Karbala Par-2

The glory of that russet-coloured tent!
A fresh sky o'er the earth had been unfurled.
To the canopy no pole's support was lent;
This ancient house! Faith's pivot in the world.
For Allah's loved-ones dwelt beneath this sky
Like stars in the empyrean on high.

The desert land smiled mocking at the skies;
The seventh heaven thought it dwelt above.
Its curtains were the veils of beauties' eyes,
And heaven plucked its stars from it with love.
The morning thought the sun a wretched sight
When it compared it to that desert's light.

Then suddenly the dawn's white light came in;
To lead the prayer the King came from his throne.
All stood behind the Lord of Men and Jinn;
Ali Akbar called the prayer in Hasan's tone.
The eyes of everyone were filled with tears.
As if the Prophet's voice fell on their ears.

The birds fell silent; trees in ecstasy
Rocked to an' fro; their buds and fruit sang praise.
The towns and deserts joined in harmony,
And ocean-beasts emerged to hear their lays.
The darling of Shabbir to all lent weight;
O'er land and sea they cried: 'Our God is great!'

The women of the King wept hitter tears;
While Bano of renown stood silently,
Zainab repeated blessings with her prayers:
'My muezzin, I give thy life to thee!
They call in praise of God; oh, hear their joy!
As beautiful as Joseph is my boy.

He reads from the Quran; what majesty!
His grandsire once for speaking held the prize.
Ah, may his voice remain eternally!
The strains of David, who was called The Wise!
Those melodies like petals of a flower!
A nightingale chirps in the Prophet's bower.

Let someone take these blessings on my part;
May God protect him from the evil eye!
His eloquence would capture any heart,
Although for two long days his throat is dry.
In foreign lands misfortune strikes Husain.
Three days of hunger torment him with pain.'

'Make ready for your worship!', came the cry.
'The King of all Creation leaves his seat.
In ranks of light the Leader passes by;
Salvation's path bows down to touch his feet.
His radiance in the highest heaven will reign.'
The Quran became a prayer-mat for Husain.

The company's prayers were verses from that age;
Like bismillah the King stood at their head;
The ranks were lines of writing on the page,
And proudly stood behind the one who led.
The dawn blinked at the whiteness shown between
The rows of words that Ali once had seen.

They magnified the Lord in glorious tune;
All heaven's angels blessed them for their sake.
In faith their faces shone bright as the moon;
In fear of God their limbs began to quake.
Their necks were bowed in humble adulation.
Like the crescent moon they folded in prostration.

Haidar's scions, Muhammad's noble kin,
Eighteen brave young men stood in one place;
All peerless, righteous, humble, free of sin,
The friends of the Imam in wisdom's grace.
Theirs the praise of God in all directions.
Theirs the beads that told their benedictions.

They stood, then bowed; their prayers flew to the sky;
To the One Existing Lord they showed devotion.
Prostrate upon the ground, their time passed by;
Their hands, their arms, their feet betrayed no motion.
But of their own dire plight. they made no word.
They prayed beneath the shadow of the sword.

They raised their heads and pointed to the air;
The gates of heaven received their adulation.
Their hands, the pinions of the bird of prayer,
To the trembling sky sped on their supplication.
In humble pose they fell upon the ground;
In Gabriel's domain their words passed round.

The prayer of the King of Men was now complete;
His thirsty friends came forth to shake his hand.
One kissed his cheek, another touched his feet;
What stalwart spirits had this hungry band!
His soldiers pledged their faith with every breath;
Embracing on the feast-day of their death.

Here one fell upon the ground in thanks;
Here the Quran was read in doleful strains.
Praise of the Prophet echoed in their ranks;
Here power to the Almighty 'mid their pains.
Husain cried out: 'Have pity on our plight;
On us who thirst and hunger in our flight!'

Here sad laments and pleading supplication;
But there oppression, cruelty, wicked deeds.
Umar, son of Sa'ad cried, 'Keep your station!
Watch the river, guard the banks and meads !
Husain is without water for two days.
Let him not drink a drop until he pays.'

The Celestial King gave orders from his place,
When arrows suddenly began to fall.
Towards the evil foe he turned his face.
Weighing his sword Abbas obeyed his call.
Like moths around the torch of the Imam,
They rallied to protect Husain from harm.

To Ali Akbar he made this behest:
'On treachery our evil foe is bent.
Life of my soul, go where the women rest,
And lead them from the forecourt to the tent.
Through negligence let no child come to grief;
For Asghar's neck is the target of the thief '

The Sky-Throned King had thus addressed his son,
When Fazza cried from the porch: 'Behold our plight!
Oh Lord, now where may Ali's daughters run?
The children have been crying through the night.
Suffocated by the heat they weep,
But now in the morning breeze they go to

Baqir rests, Sakina is in a swoon;
This feverish heat our babies has oppressed.
In tears they sleep, their faces like the moon,
Weak from hunger. Where to give them rest?
Theirs is no fault. Why do these arrows rain?
They seek the coolness of the breeze in vain.'

Hearing her voice, the Heavenly Lord arose;
'Neath shields his comrades took him to the porch.
He cried: 'We part for battle with our foes.
Prepare the horses. Light our righteous torch!
May our hearts rejoice in Paradise today;
Make haste to force this issue in the fray.

With these brave words, the King of Land and Sea
Went over to the women. In the ranks
His men prepared. Abbas, renowned and free,
Paced to and fro, a lion with armoured flanks.
The lightning of his face flashed on the sand;
His shield aloft, his sword gripped in his hand.

Solomon's crown was humbled by his helm;
The wings of Huma were envious of its plumes.
His gauntlets would fair Victory overwhelm;
God save us from his anger when it looms!
When a brother wards off tyranny and wrong,
Will not his brother's heart feel safe and strong?

The King beheld the womens piteous state;
Their hair hung loose, their faces pale and white.
Zainab made a prayer: 'Oh God Most Great!
Save Fatima's darling in this awful fight.
May Bano's crop be green and fresh with sap;
And may she nurse new offspring in her lap.