Wednesday, March 2, 2011

My Beloved

There was a time in my youth,
When Islam was only a custom.
They said "say La IIaha IIIa Allah,..
And pray, you'll go to Heaven."

Ah, how simple, no struggle in this,
Just a word, and simple act.
Thereafter I'm absorbed in this world again,
With my 'assured' place in Paradise intact.

But this was not to be my fate
For ALLAH chose to guide my heart.
I learnt of a man who struggled so hard
When his mission was from the start.

Spoke gently, kindness he knew.
Never fearing to say what's right,
His conviction in ISLAM was true.

The touch of his hand was as soft as silk
To comfort a crying child.
To mend his clothes, or do the chores,
Never complaining, he always smiled.

A living he made with his bare hands,
The same that held his mighty sword.
Valour shone from the edge of his blade,

His smell was always of musk,
And cleanliness he kept at his best.
Stark contrast with the heroes of today,
Who stink of beer and sweat.

He held the hands of his companions.
Unashamed to play with many children.
So modest, so humble, a perfect example,
That strangers could not recognise him.

His eyes slept little for nights were precious,
His prayers he treasured much greater.
To pray Tahajjud in the depths of night,
Seeking forgiveness, and nearness to his Creator.

He broke his tooth for me at Uhud,
And bled for me at Ta'if.
He cried for me, tears of concern,
Just so I could have this belief.

His enemies admired his teachings,
Uniting every religion, every clan.
Till ISLAM came to every corner of the world,
O, but indeed he was only a man.

To own a house, or build his wealth
Was not his main priority.
To establish ISLAM was more essential,
To bring us under a Higher Authority.

Don't you want him to plea for your case,
When before ALLAH-The Judge-you stand?
Don't you wish to be around his fountain,
A burning desire to drink from his hand?

So I love him more than all creation,
My Leader, my Humble Prophet.
Muhammad (SAWS) was a mercy to all mankind

And to me, he is ... MY BELOVED!

BY Allama Iqbal
He slept on a mat of rushes, But the crown of Chosroes lay beneath the feet of his followers; He chose the nightly solitude of Mount Hira, And founded a nation, law and government; He passed his nights with sleepless eyes, That his Millet might sleep on Chosroes throne In the hour of battle, iron was melted by the flash of his sword. At prayer time, tears fell like drops of rain from his eyes. In his prayer for Divine help, his Amen' was a sword, Which extirpated the lineage of kings. He inaugurated a new Order in the world, He brought the empires old to an end: In his sight the high and the low were one, He sat with the slave at table one; He burnt clear the distinctions of birth and clan. His fire consumed all this trash and bran
P/S: Ya Rasulullah, we missed you a ton Y_Y


  1. salam!

    I love this poem and also touched to read the last passage written by Allama Iqbal for our beloved prophet (pbuh) .

    note* Its bidah/wrong to say Ya Rasullullah.

  2. SAlam..thanks for dropping by brother.
    But why it is bida'ah to say Ya Rasulullah? Please tell me, I never heard about it, tq


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