POETRYBYSUDAIS

Ya Allah, a lifetime has been spent
in disobedience towards you.
True it is that for every act of defiance,
verily there is a consequence
for Adam for me for Eve for all
imparted upon the sinner’s own soul
and the happiness of those around him.

I have repented aplenty,
raced back
without count
and then submitted again ad infinitum.

I have beseeched you to bless me
but with a spark
of your light
within which lies mercy
for only it could
restore me to the lofty throne
of piety.

Yet, my Sultan knows
that which I can conceive not for
You turn away none yet
You accept not my cry either

O Padishah of the lands and the skies,
if I am to continue
in rebellion and to become
a torment to my companions
for such can be fate,
arrange for us a meeting
now
in a state of repentance
for to be an oppressor is worse
than lying under the cold black earth.

I ask you so
knowing that
blessed was a child
in the hands of Khizr
with the rose of death
for his fate too
was that which would bring great pain
to his kin
Musa was the witness
bring me too
such a noble companion
in the pangs of perishment.

Ya Allah, when I yield before your Majesty
I fear asking
that of you
which your justice has disallowed
but I do beg you
of what yours has allowed;

Allah Miyan, I know not if I’m worthy of her virtuous soul
but I ask you to make me so;

I ask you not to make her the one
but I ask you to make
him hers, her his,
perfect for one another
tying us forever under your divinely ordained blessed knot;

Affix our hearts for what you want
can it be defied, we know – not
my asking this of you indeed was your want,
how else was this heart
to dare dream so?

When the Padishah of Padishahs makes my heart yearn
for a mere smile on her fragrant face,
isn’t it time
that I fall to
request
just a lifetime with her?

I hope she doesn’t figure out
one more will be my wish thereafter,
Perhaps,
if they shall be the last I utter,
my last wish,
she shall accept?

Ya Hakan-e-Hakan,
that is yours to want, make her accept
for strolling
hands in hands,
tucked into each other’s existence,
squeezingly close
in your garden
overflowing with the sweet musk of love
is all I fancy for.

But my Lord, be that i may never be likened
to be worthy of her grandeur grace,
i beseech you to take happiness
fusing it with the garam chai she so slowly slurps
making her drink it
albeit
fastly,
this time.

Grant her all of delight,
mine’s too if needed but Ya Adel!
let not the heartyness of her plump red cheeks vanish,
they are all that some of us
breathe for
take them away
and see
beings unseen will emerge with pain
never that should have touched us.

Often, the key is often
I think of what they’ve so
insolently called suicide
fret not fret not fret
I think not of hanging by a lifeless rope,
who is a rope to hold us by the neck?
But I think,
I ponder,
I fight walls,
I ask, save the Divine to those it did not reach,
is it the only way out of their misery?
They(soon can it be we, PLEASE?)
yearn so for death that no
human
words
eyes, not even you relieve this pain,
a shame,
rest assured though
when I spin lifelessly,
you my beloved
they my kin
shall only ponder but on one,
save all the pain, hell is his destiny for the choice he made, right?

Tell them,
scream my spelt out messy black ink
yes it is
I choose it over you
knowingly
willingly
yes I did.

an eternity of pain
in lieu of the pain you gave
tearing down walls
screaming at my whim
I will die not like you wish
seldom not like you want
I, I am what I know not.

Perhaps, in the four walls
housing the irregularities of this festival
some soul comes dissects me
to break it to me
you’re home, come just lie lifelessly o lifeless, I will love you.

Your sky glittering with a plenty others, stars
throwing out light
that makes the sun
come just a bit late
for sunshine will hold back
to see you titter
freely in this epoch of betrayal;

Your voice fills my path
like a melody to these ears
takes me away, flying
for but a moment making me wonder,
wonder when the circular twelve hands
tick by in my presence,
does that make it all the more important to you
or am I just
one
more
being
to laugh with?

insanity is beautiful sanity is
normal normal is dull
you come like a light ray beaming
just like we should have been healing
into pores of my skin that have
not seen the sun for too long
but don’t worry it hasn’t been too wrong

how my words will be slayed for
my blood never shall it contain
them flow freely they may at the
epitaph of your grave

When a human being,
full of flesh with ripe skin commits
suicide,
they go to hell.

When a human being,
down with all the grief
the relied on have given commits
suicide,
they go to hell.

The pits where darkness sees new
lows
a never ending cycle
engrips them
for a mere one
eternity.

For how many times have my ears witnessed
such announcements
spitting their way out
from the mouths of the righteous?

And at times
sometimes
every single time

I wonder,
did the rope plunger not know?

Sometimes yes, the words of The Guider
escaped them
and the musk of Muhammad
forbade them.

Yet, the other times, the oft-prostrator
whose imprints
on the bare ground are captured
from the dawn
of light till its betrayal
migrates
willing to another realm.

Not unbeknownst of the horrors
that await as the Divine
has ordained
but knowingly
with pride
choosing the ever-growing flames
over a handful that boasted
boasted of being kin by
blood
or
love
yet kept them suspended
by a rope
remarkably similar
fiddling with the black chair
underneath.

He leaves
with a smile
foreseeing the regret that would flush
the infringers of his soul
fully deserved it is
for like the righteous justice
a pious worshipper should do,
he has done so too,
to the souls that wronged his,
the eyes that violated hers.

Such a knowing is but enough
for the dead soul who cries
too now
perhaps louder
with more madness
and agony in
another
hell.

Pouring words for what you so obviously shroud,
it is a true thought originating from contemplation
whether that contemplation is from sorrow or joy is another tale;

Fighting the sufferings inflicted on you
while your guest ignores them
rather justifies them
by refuting me coherently or incoherently is another tale;

The guest is God-invited,
says Hafiz the Persian,
even-more he is special,
applauds Hafiz the Persian;

Then why is it me that unravels them, is
is it my conscience that has attained virtue?
Or is it my hidden desire to be heard
and cheered upon
feeding a dark part of myself that thrives;

Thrives on the validation your inhabitants offer me,
the former would appeal to the blessed being,
while the latter is the reason I spell this out?

A stranger greets me,
a friend laughs with me,
the reason isn’t as simple,
there’s more to it;

Perhaps it is my fame that gets me the greeting,
perhaps it is my charm that makes them laugh,
the reason is more than what appeals to the deluded mind,
there’s more to it;

Has time ever spared fame to those excluding the saints?
Has the east ever remembered other than Muhammad per diem?
Has the west ever revered other than Jesus per se?
Oh deluded soul,
nothing that is in you can stand the stain of history;

For charm was ever present in Robin the son of William,
Destiny didn’t spare it’s flame however,
all that was left was the shedding of tears,
so much for the charmed being’s spell?

For attraction was ever discerning towards those who flaunted their beauty,
the world even went as much to grant a title or two,
yet the wind and sun worked together to make it all perish
while the gravedigger complemented with his craft,
does any being remember Miss Monroe?

Split between the way of the heart
United in moving away from the Divine
The invaders come in fancy
Selling slavery under the guise of freedom

The dervish seeks refuge by his chanting
The shaykh refutes by his intellect
The Sultan fights under the banner of Islam
Remains the betrayer defeated amidst treachery;

That which cannot be brought back passes,
the lovers of the Khalifa-e-Islam repent in pain,
to their dismay are they shut out
shunned by the modern day temporal;

The advent of civilisation is their claim,
Hypocrisy is open to history
For Kanuni Suleyman ruled 7 climates
All at the epitome of civilisation
Under the purity of Islam

O Sultan, the sun races to defeat your standing,
the walls envy the sheer force of your intellect,
the Kaiser comes in glory yet ends up as a disciple,
praise be to Allah who gave us to you;

Comfort is unbeknownst to you,
sacrificing your slumber for ours,
forgiving those who slander you,
fearing injustice in the sight of the Just
truly are you worthy to be called Ulu-Hakan.

My Sultan, never did he desire for the throne
It came in a dark storm with a call for help
Murad pays no heed to us,
Make us worthy to have you for we suffer;

The accounts will be long,
even the one who the devil feared
was shaken by them,yet the millat is in need,
take your place O Sehzade!
Hagia shall not see the crescent fall,
the Muslims shall hear the call to success;

We have seen the ungrateful buy slavery under the guise of freedom,
they gained nothing but regret my Hakan,
they lost no one but their own Padishah,
and haven’t they echoed since then,

“we were those who shamelessly slandered you,
we said our Sultan was crazy but we were actually the crazy ones,
we chose to spit on the path of our forefathers,
my Honourable Sultan”;

Your blood conspired to prevail over you
Yet patience never left your conscience
You stood recalling the mercy of Muhammad
Lucky were they that you were not Murad
For the treacherous would boil amongst
not anyone’s but their own blood then

Like a bird captive to the hand,
The grip neither hard nor too soft
The bird remains yet lives
Such was your justice o Sultan
Verily you were the righteous Kaisar-e-Rum.

“I bear witness Ya Rasul Allah..”
The prayer has reached its destination O Umar!
A fortress of the enemy has been taken down,
peace be upon you for Allah gave you to me!

Galloping on his horse in pace never bethought
The dust blessed to bear his imprints
Rode he before too indeed
Yet the shade of Islam covers him now

The companions gaze in sheer awe
Not a saddle is to be found beneath Umer
The devil turns away perceiving his shadow
For why approach the path
Where there is no hope?

Umar is to forego his abode
All migrates hideously in fear
yet the angels witness a proclamation,

“O people, come to stop Umer!
For it is the best of the ways
to render your wives widows
and your children orphan”

Has time sworn to greater valor?

Little beings shed tears no more,
for Umar’s justice dispels their pain,
find me a vagrant o people!
Never shall they be found
for did the streets ever doze off
before our Amir-ul-Mumineen patrolled them?

O infidel!
Ask Al-Aqsa,

Does it not yearn for a white horse
Seated on it Al-Farooq
Entering the gates of Jerusalem
Upholding the banner of Islam?

Indeed it does,
always it shall,
the bygone
shall return.

On a sunny afternoon years later when raindrops are kissing the parchment,
a rainbow hiding just behind the tree,
I imagine you making your way across mine,
Our eyes meeting with a smile immediately flushing our faces;

Save a bit of hesitation, we walk towards each other’s soul through eyes
bridging our bodies with small little steps.

I ask you of the bygone when our eyes never met, our ears yearned to listen to each other’s laughter yet I confess none of such. A bleak “where have you been” is all I manage to muster, where’s the courage you exhibit against the tyrants hiding in your soul I wonder.

As we began to talk save the pleasantries,
an era of happiness dawns in on me,
a lifetime of sadness for the realization that we will part only moments later,
with these lived scarce seconds like a burden
burying me in soil that remains wet so that when the time for burial has passed, my skin could
be dug up again to inflict fresh wounds laced with salt from the Himalayas if you may.

As words travel from one heart to another,
I manage to hold my heartbeat for a moment and cry out,
have the seasons changed so much that we’re not the ones to walk every mountain together?
Once hands tucked deep within our pockets well knowing that were one of us to fall stumbling,
the other would smilingly follow to have a little more of an ever-ending commodity that
holds us hostage till the end of times.

Unapologetically, you walk away,
new faces that make you happier than the existence of my soul
in a fragment of your memory ever could, wait,
taking away the person I once dared to call a friend.