Sunday, April 28, 2013

Poem on Jannah by Ammar - Kinetic Typography



This poem was written by Ammar Alshukry and produced by Belal Khan in the form of Kinetic Typography.

Close your eyes and imagine this
Eternal bliss,
your every wish,
at your finger tips
and more...

Perched on a throne, near a stream
So serene, and exquisite a scene
You've never seen
Yet you still dream
of more...

Gone is pain, gone is fear
Gone is grief, gone are tears
Idle speech you shall never hear
And the Prophets make up your social sphere
and more...

The martyrs, righteous and truthful too
You are from them, and they from you
They held tightly to what they knew was true
and To join them, you did too
theres more...

Maidens, chaste, who restrain their gaze
Lost in a glance for days and days
Fun and frolic, as a child plays
Where the breath that leaves your lips is praise
of the One who gave you more

Imagine you and your father, with ages the same
Imagine showing off your book with no shame
Imagine nights with the sahabah, with their stories to entertain
Imagine Muhammad (Sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam) knowing your name
What could be there more..

Gardens underneath which rivers flow
A goal so far, and yet so close
A journey worth taking, for those who know
Tell me Do you not wish to go..
for more?

For all the bounties, all the grace
All the sights and the smells and the tastes
Will be forgotten, without a trace
as if frozen in time and space
When you see His Face

What an excellent Master, of a miserable slave
You forgot and He forgave
He gave you guidance, and you still strayed
You asked for mercy, that He gave
and more...and more..and more


Note: I found this AMAZING poem through my dear sis Jinan.. Thank you for sharing it with me, Jinan. I think it will be an amal to share it with those we know, and those who happens to come across my blog by chance.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Gaza

Why does America wish to delay Erdogan's visit to Gaza? Why does it support the Fatah party in this case? Is the US afraid that the Hamas will be empowered with Turkey's help?

And why does the West that celebrates Malala turn a blind eye towards the children of Gaza who resist invasions with stones? Oppression is oppression, no matter whether it comes from the Taliban or the US-backed Israel. 



A lot of things happen in the world. And caught in the woes of our own day-to-day existence, we often forget Gaza and its children. Let us please not forget to pray for them.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

the times

It is said- rightfully- that there is a time to sow and a time to reap.
I agree. There is certainly a time for everything. And often, the time chooses what it wants to be rather than us deciding what to make of a time.



There are times when you are afraid you'll burst with joy, and there are times when happiness is but an illusion.

There are times you long for a comforting hand, and times you need to be left alone.

Times when you cherish the past, and times you would rather not walk down the memory lane.

Times when you are so sure of yourself, and times when you don't know why you are the way you are.

Times you can't wait to grow up, and times you weep for the lost childhood.

Times you smile secretly at something, and times you cry silently for an unshareable loss. 

Times you are grateful for the gift of reason, and times you hope if only you could somehow stop thinking...

There are times when you don't know whether to laugh or cry and end up doing both at the same time.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Ruya

Ruya.

There is always Ruya, no matter what. A dream and a vision. Manifestations of wishes and longings beyond fulfillment. Like the rain. And colours. Stars, moon and patches of the sky. Like the wind, music and stretches of sea. Like words- sheer, powerful words. Beautiful words. Ruya.























You are always there, Ruya. You'll always be there. What is life without you?  You are that inevitable, undefinable craving. Ruya.

You will always be there, Ruya. Like a dear little daughter. Like an unborn twin... a long lost friend. A deep yearning in my unconscious. A rain-like Love, so beautifully, beautifully sad. Ruya.