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Poetry

THE ORCHESTRA OF JOY

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Have you ever seen a nightingale sing?
When the clouds are white
and gray
and orangish blue
When the sun is still peeping shyly
through the sky
like a child who’s still learning
to carry
the weight of her mother tongue

There are some things you notice
only when you’re in glee
When the heart is at rest
with its existence in the world

Like the first touch of fresh, cool air
when it reaches your lungs
Cleansing you of all dust
and ashes
Blowing your noodle-like hair around
Strands of it lingering on your radiant face
The gentle swishing of leaves
dance to the reviving melody of the nightingale

The sun rays,
a strong energy of red
and the happiness of yellow,
piercing through your ebony eyes
glittering
like they were dipped in perfect shades of olive
and brown

Your mother’s honey voice
hums silkily
in the vastness of her love
She sings a song of enchantment
A tune already engraved on your soul
Her maroon white hair rests weakly on her shoulders
You stand side by side
Fingers interlocked delicately
as you watch the tan beauty
perching on one of the branches
in the lush green forest

It serenades your souls
with the procession of rippling whistles,
and trills,
and gurgles
that makes the entire universe stand still
Listening to the powerful performance
of an exquisite bird
A gentle trickling sound
of a river
meanders by
Possessing your entire being
with a solace
unknown

A poet stands to watch
and a writer
and an artist
The muse is in front of them
unraveling
all the magic of dawn

And you stand there too
You glance at your frail mother
as she raises her head from
the wheelchair
to look at you
Her eyes twinkling
as she beams with bliss
And it just seems like God
has pinned you as a favourite today
Because suddenly,
everything has a tune of joy
to it.
On this day,
It feels like the universe
is shining
on you.

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Inspiration

BLISS

By

When I was a child, I wanted to be like the Palestinian kid. I sympathized with them a lot but more than that, I adored them. Their resilience, their bravery, their courage to come face to face with death, with the enemy. To stand up for what they truly believe in. I think they are phenomenal. These were my heroes; these kids. Then when I grew up with a faint heart, I decided maybe the next best thing is to adopt one of them someday; a Palestinian or Syrian child. It still is a dream.

When the Ethiopian plane crash happened, I really really tried not to write about it. Because everyone was. It was all over the social media. It still is. And with my faint heart, I thought, we need a breathing moment. Just a second to breathe. So I tried to avoid the media as much as I could. Yet still, the same night I dreamt I was in the plane crash. See? Faint heart. Before I could let that incident sink in, the New Zealand bombing happened. This definitely was a worse blow because it was an act of cruel, ruthless human beings. It was agitating and heartbreaking. So again, I actively avoided my laptop. I didn’t want to rant about how depressing and agonizing this world is. Because well, who doesn’t know it already?

So I’ve been having this comforting thought that I clinged on a drowning man holding onto a straw. Jannah. Paradise. You know, most times we dwell on how terrifying this world is (which it truly is), we forget of Allah’s promise to us. What’s yet to come if we believe and are patient.

I find it comforting to think of a day when we’ll meet our loved ones who departed and left this world before us. Imagine the first moment you see one another; the joy, the excitement, the thrill. Unbelievable, we all made it! You start updating them of all that happened in their absence. You hug and rejoice. You talk at length. You hug more.

Here are your besties seated with you under the largest, most beautiful tree you can ever imagine, its branches swinging swiftly, filling your lungs with fresh air. You are laughing than you ever did in your previous life. Laughing until your stomach aches. All of you are reminiscing of the moments you had in this life. Moments when you wanted to give up on life, on God, on people. Moments when you just wanted to die because what’s the point? But here you are?! And there is food of course. All kinds of food you are so confused what to eat and what not. But it’s the good kind of confusion. Not the one where you are unsure where to eat a rotten cow’s flesh or the leftovers in the trash bin. The exhilarating kind of confusion. You are seeing food you never knew existed. The taste is too sweet to be true. You are so overwhelmed with joy you want to scream ‘foooooooddddd.’

Across the garden is your mother and father seated on huge seats that befit the royalties. They are happy. You can see it from how your mother’s face is glowing and how your father is smiling. Tears form in your eyes because it is like a dream. You always wanted this for them. This kind of bliss. This kind of peace. And there they are, earning what they truly deserve by the Mercy of Allah.

You remember a friend of yours that you haven’t yet met in Paradise so an angel directs you to another garden where you’d find them. And there they are, seated next to sahabas listening to their stories while they laugh. A river passes next to them and tiny green birds fly above them. You see their palace. You are almost jealous. They are in a different level of paradise than you are. The good kind of jealous though. Your friend sees you and you embrace tightly. You take a moment to feel the embrace.
‘What more did you do than I did?!’ You whisper in their ears as you smile.
‘What’s the fun in telling you? The suspense is more fun,’ they laugh. And then you both laugh.
‘But you are always welcome you know. No one will stop you,’ they tease you some more. You embrace again and they invite you to join their seating and listen to the real heroes.

At your next stop you meet nabii Yunus and you are so curious to ask him about the view inside the whale’s stomach but instead you just greet him and stand there so tongue-tied; not from intimidation but from disbelief. You meet nabii Ibrahim and you want to ask him about his feeling when he was about to be thrown into the fire. You meet nabii Yusuf and you are utterly flabbergasted by his beauty. Ah unbelievable! Nabii Ayub is right there and you are in awe because he was your role model on earth when it came to patience. You can’t believe you are meeting all these people you only read about and admired all your life long.

Hurul ains are walking graciously around and you nod in agreement; they are a spectacle. You could spend your entire day just watching them move about. And their eyes!! Wow. What a sight. The worldly description that you heard of them could never suffice describing their real beauty.

You speed up now because you really want to get a glimpse of prophet Muhammad. You want to see his Majesty. You want to sit next to him and talk to him and listen to him and and…You just never thought of the day this would be possible. You seated right opposite him having a one on one chat with him. And you know what’s the best part? You won’t be talking about the enemies that are about to attack or the plots of the hypocrites. Pure, good talks. Happy conversations. Joyful moments.

No tears anymore. No sadness. No loss. No sickness. No death. No pain. No fake connections. No jealousy. You have all you need and no one can take it away from you. Just bliss. Pure bliss.

I for one can’t imagine a life without crying. I am a cry baby so there is barely any earthly day that passes by without me crying; whether its out of happiness or not. So I wonder what I’d be crying about in Jannah. Maybe eating all the things I couldn’t in this world and I’d be so overwhelmed with joy and I’d be crying. Hey! No allergiessss anymorrreeee!!

I want to sleep on my mother’s laps as she pats my hair, as we lie down watching the stars. I want to have my siblings seated next to us as they tease me for being a spoilt child. I want to watch my father enter his own palace that he prayed and worked for really hard. Mama two would be right there with us, chit chatting excitedly as she always was on Earth. I want to have my husband and my children surrounding me like a queen as they try to feed me fruits of paradise. My family scattered in different parts of Jannah like cute butterflies.

I would definitely go around looking for my best friends and we’d go explore the huge paradise with them. Find secret, undiscovered corners and make it our meet-up point. Climb on the paradise horses and go for adventures. Have brunch picnics at the rooftop of the highest palace and go visiting our other friends.

I would go find the prophet’s wives; Khadija (May peace be upon her). I want to meet this magnificent woman who defined real womanhood for me. Oh myyy!! I want to meet Aisha (may peace be upon her too!) I really think I would click with her because I’m the jealous type too. I would tell her, ‘You know,,that time you broke your co-wife’s plates when she brought food for your husband while it was your day? I totally get that! I would do the same!’ Then she’d say, ‘Really?!’ I’d say, ‘Totally!’ Then she’d like me immediately and we’d become friends. Then I’d remind her of the incident when she stalked the prophet when he left home one night all of a sudden. Then we’d laugh. It would probably be like an immediate connection and we’d sound like old buddies huhuhu! (Please note I am in no way encouraging being jealous and breaking the plates of your co-wives 😀 )

Then I’d find Khawlah bint Al Awzar, the warrior who fought in battles during the times of the prophet. Maaaan, I admire brave women and she’s totally among the first I want to meet. Then there’s Khansa, the greatest poet of her times, and we’d compare notes and maybe she’d even be kind enough to share her poetry tips who knows? Then there’s Fatimah and Maryam, the mother of Issa. The women’s list is so long. But who cares? There will be alllll the time to find them all. Because no jobs remember?! No Monday blues and evening exhaustion! No angry bosses and annoying workmates! Huh! How awesome is that!

Then there’s the sahabas; the likes of Umar ibn Khattab and Salman Al Farisy and Abubakar Assidiq and Sa’d ibn Muaadh (radi Allahu anhu) who had seventy thousand angels attended his funeral. Then there are all those sheikhs and scholars you adored so much and never got a chance to meet them and converse with them. In short, there’ll be a lot of Meet & Greet events to be done. Only this won’t be like the Insta ones. This is Jannah kind. You know what I mean?!

Of course it would be wondeeerful to meet anyone you knew in this world. It is utmost privilege knowing you and your crowd were among the chosen ones. We’d congratulate one another and embrace.

Here we are! We almost thought the world would never end. But here we are! At the best of places with the best of people with the best of nature with the best of food. What more would we need? Nothing. Nothing more. Cause we’d have made it. We have made it!! Imagine it. Just imagine it.

***

Ooops! Sorry to burst the dreaming bubble. It was a beautiful, soothing moment wasn’t it? I bet it was. Let’s pray and work towards attaining it. When this world seems so suffocating, remember the reward awaiting us. May Allah forgive us and have mercy on us. May He grant us the patience and make us and our families and all our loved ones meet in Jannah ya Rab! Ameeeeen. Let’s remember to pray for one another and for the world.

***
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Kiddie Tales

MUJA THE KIND-HEARTED BOY

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BY: NAIMA BAGHOZI

Long time back in Mwapata land lived a small boy of nine years. His name was Muja but famously known as ‘Muja the kind hearted’ by everyone, big and small.

Muja lived with his father and mother who were quite old, but they brought him up to be a very good boy.
Muja was always kind to old people and even small children and not forgetting the animals. He would always help an old person cross the road or help an old woman carry her heavy load and if a small child is in distress then yes of course Muja would be right there to assist in whatever the problem is. As for the animals, he always had a very soft heart for them and did not like to see anybody hurting them.

That is why he earned the name ‘Muja, the kind hearted’ , and all people referred to him that way. As soon as he appeared anywhere, someone would be heard as saying “here comes Muja the kind hearted” and thus was loved by everyone. No one would want to harm him in anyway but would always have a kind or a soft word for Muja.

Now, Muja’s daily routine would be to wake up very early in the morning at the first call of the rooster’s “cock-a-doodle do” in order to fetch water from the well to wash himselfup and also to make sure his parents had enough for use.

Then after drinking his tea, he takes his bag and on his way to school he goes – up the lane, up and up the hill then at the top of the hill he takes a breath and looks down at the view which awaits him and he says to himself “ Oh! What a beautiful village we have….” And then jumps and trots down the hill towards his school where he knows his friends would be eagerly awaiting his arrival so they can play together a little bit before the bell rings for assembly.

As soon as school ends for the day, Muja has no time for friends but he would rush out of school and climb up the hill and run all the way home for he knows he has got chores awaiting him. One of them being to go and fetch firewood from a nearby bush for his mother. He would always be cautious about his mother’s warning of never going deep in the bush for fear of wild animals.

The one thing that the Mwapata Land boys liked best to do was to hunt for the many beautiful little birds who were all over the place. So after school they would normally be out with their catapults trying their best shots with pebbles at them, for they say they are very tasty when roasted. However, everybody knew of Muja’s weakness where these little birds were concerned and wouldn’t even stop to fight in order to save them. So whenever the area boys are already at their mischief, one is normally kept on guard to look out for Muja and the moment he sees him coming, he would yell ‘run ,Muja the kind hearted’ is coming, then they would all scatter in different directions in fear that if they will be caught then anything can strike them. Oh! Yes, they would even go as far as calling the birds as “Muja’s Birds.”

One day as Muja was collecting his mother’s firewood not so far from his home lane, he thought he heard his name – so he stopped picking up the wood to listen but only silence met him, he then continued to pick his firewood but it didn’t take long before he heard it again and this time it was quite clear for he had moved up a bit in his collection and this is what he heard from a tiny small clear but sad voice ;

“Muja,ooh! Muja
Please, please
Help me……..”

And it continued on and on as he moved towards the voice only to find one little bird trapped and could not free itself to fly off. It was so frightened that if it was found by one of the boys it would soon be on a fire being roasted and to be made into a nice meal.

So Muja rushed to it and said ‘Oh! You sweet little bird, don’t be frightened, Muja is here now to set you free”…. And you know what? Muja did just that, he carefully removed it from the trap and set it free to fly away in the skies and the little bird was so grateful as it flew away saying:

“Ooh! Muja, Ooh! Muja
Thank you for saving my life.
Ooh! You kind hearted Muja….”

Muja found himself smiling silently and went to collect his wood to take to his mother who would be waiting for it patiently in order to start cooking their dinner.

When Muja got home, he explained everything to his parents. His mother told him “Muja, you are a fine boy” and his father said “Muja my son, you will one day make a fine man”.
These compliments made Muja’s heart fill with joy for he always appreciates his parents’ comments as they meant a lot to him.

After his mother cooked dinner, they sat down to eat and then he helped her to wash the few dishes they had and prepared himself for bed for he knows again at the very early call of their rooster’s ‘cock-a-doodle-do’ he would have to be up once again.

Such was Muja’s daily life routine except for weekends when he gets the chance to at least play football which he loved very much with his friends. But of course this is after he had done all his chores first and then he would be free to play.

Days went on and fell into nights and nights dawned into beautiful mornings as Muja’s life continued but unfortunately with the busy schedule he had, his studies seemed to suffer. This was because the only time he had for his studies was when he was in class , so he had to struggle extra hard – more than all his fellow students in order to keep up with them. But Muja being Muja – he was determined to make it so that he may be able to have a better future than the current one he was having.

One Wednesday evening when Muja went out for his normal firewood collection, he was met with quite an incident that would make him remember this day for the rest of his life. He started picking the firewood at his usual spot on the edges of the bush, but this time his mind seemed to be quite far and didn’t realize that he had actually entered the bush which his mother always cautioned him about. In a trance like manner he continued on with his wood picking until suddenly “WHAM” right into a trap he walked and thus found himself entangled in a net and as much as he tried to free himself – it was just an impossible task. For the first time by looking around he realized that he had walked far into the bush and his heart started pounding so fast ‘doom,doom,doom’ that he could hardly hear anything else . He tried his level best to calm himself down so that he can think of his next move, so after just a few seconds which to him seemed ages he managed to calm down and could look at the surroundings properly. All he could see were trees and trees which seemed to be bending towards him and he could only hear the eerie sounds of the bush habitants whom he couldn’t see.

Time did seem to have stood still but he felt it must be quite late and was thinking “now my parents must really be worried!” and tears started to roll down his cheeks. He really wished for anybody to come by and help him, maybe a hunter…. Then he started screaming “help,help,help” at the very top of his voice but only the echo of his voice seemed to answer him with the same “help,help,help” screams – but he did not despair nor did he give up. He would rest a bit and call out for help at short intervals.

It went on this way until he started shaking with fear and when he was just about to give up – you won’t believe what happened. Muja had already given up and thought he would be a meal for one or another of the wild animals but his kind heartedness was about to pay now, for he suddenly heard that lovely from a long time back voice say:

“Ooh! Muja, Ooh! My kind hearted Muja,
Don’t be afraid – your friend is here
To help you…….”

And yes, looking up – guess who Muja saw? That’s right, that little bird he once saved and wondered privately how this little thing would be able to help him. In a matter of seconds the little bird started tweeting in the bird language and from all directions – all Muja could see were wings and wings flying into the call of his friend and it communicated to them to start cutting the net with their beaks. Since they all knew the kind hearted Muja who had many a time saved them from the Mwapata land boys with their catapults – they were more than happy to help getting Muja out of the trap.

They didn’t waste any time in doing just that and within no time Muja was freed by his bird friends and they started escorting him out of the bush right up to the main lane. That’s when Muja found out that it had already gotten dark and knew how worried his poor parents would be – his little bird friend said:

“Ooh! Muja, Ooh! Kind hearted Muja,
This is where we leave you for we
Have to go and sleep now…….”

And Muja said to them:
“Ooh! My lovely friends,
I say thank you very much for
Saving my life, I shall never forget
This for as long as I live…….”

Off they went back to the bush and Muja started running up the lane towards his home not even thinking about the firewood….and just as he was about to turn around the corner he bumped into an old man who held him steadily before he could fall and said in wonder “Is this you Muja? Is it really you my son…?” his voice full of emotion and Muja replied “father, father, oh! Am I glad to see you again”

They hugged and started walking together towards their home where they found his mother right at the gate with such a worried look on her face. She too couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw her son and tears of joy ran down her cheeks as Muja ran towards and hugged her so hard while he too started crying not believing that he wasn’t actually eaten by the wild animals and that he was back home with his mother and father.

After resting and being given a bowl of porridge, he told the whole story to his awed parents and promised them that he will never venture again into the bush. Thus, he went to sleep with a big smile on his face knowing he was safe in his parents’ home.

THE – END

P.S. The book is in print form too if you would like to get a hard copy please inbox me in my Facebook page: strokes of my pen

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