Poetry · AlMaghrib Journals

“There Wasn’t Even A Single Merciful Man Amongst You!?”

AlMaghrib — Fri, 11 Dec 2015 00:00:00 GMT

Reflect upon the following story and the lessons we can take from it:

On the authority of Ibn ‘Abbās (radhyAllāhu ‘anhumā) that the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) dispatched a military unit. Upon gathering the booty they found a man who said, “I’m not from them! I fell in love with a woman and followed her here – allow me to at least look at her then you can do with me as you wish!”

The woman, tall and ebony-skinned, came forward and he said to her,

“Submit to me O Hubaysh,
before life comes to an end.

Have you not seen how I found you and followed you
To Halyah, through tight mountainous ravines?

Is it not the right of the lover to yearn
After suffering the entire night in pursuit and heat of the noon?”

She said, “Yes! May I be sacrificed for you!”

Then they took the man and killed him. The woman fell on his body, gasped once or twice, then died.

When the unit returned to the Messenger of Allah (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) and informed him of what had happened, he said, “There wasn’t even a single merciful man amongst you?!”

This narration, collected by Imām al-Nasā’i (al-Kubra, 8663) as well as al-Tabarāni, has a hasan chain, which al-Haythami also stated. Ibn Hajr declared the chain authentic in al-Fath, although there is a dispute about its strength amongst the Muhaddithīn.

A powerful and sad hadith, it contains many benefits for the interested reader. Before that, some explanation to the hadith itself:

– A sarīyyah is a military unit that would be sent out by the leader either to spread the message of Islam or for more acute actual battle scenarios, all depending on instructions and the situation at hand. This particular unit as described by the hadith had come across a rebellious group of Arabs who refused to accept the rule of law which was in operation in the land and instead attacked the unit and hence some were taken as prisoners and a death sentence was passed on all of them, except that the man in this narration wasn’t part of the original group of rebels – explaining as he does that he was only in the area of the battle because he had ended up there by chance, having fallen in love with a woman and followed her there – but yet was killed – mistakenly – along with the other criminals despite his protests.

– Such units were sent out often and unfortunately, mistakes would occur, the most famous of them with a similar rebuke from the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) is related in the Sahīh of Imam al-Bukhari when Khālid b. al-Walid killed a prisoner which led the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) to invoke, “O Allah! I am innocent of what Khalid has done!”

– The place in which the above narration occurred was called al-Halyah (also said to be al-Halbah in some narrations). Halyah was though to be from the plains of Yemen yet it is more likely to be within Arabia itself, near a place called Tihāma. This is supported by other ahādith which mention this incident with slight differences (see no.10356 of al-Majma‘ al-Zawā’id, also no. 8787 of Sunan al-Kubrā of al-Nasā’i).

– The name of this lady was Hubayshah but he referred to her with a term of endearment by shortening her name to “Hubaysh”, something done similarly by the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) when he would affectionately call Ā‘ishah simply “Ā‘ish” as narrated by Imam al-Bukhāri in his Sahīh.

– The man was infatuated with this woman, forgetting even death for a moment just to look at her one more time and even asked her to allow him this with his statement ‘submit yourself’ i.e. don’t begrudge me this last moment. Other scholars mentioned that it might mean ‘accept Islam’ or even ‘give me peace’ but the first position seems to fit the context and Allah knows best.

– The woman’s response ‘fadaytuka’ is a well known expression of love and sacrifice amongst the Arabs, being an extreme sign of love and commitment. Indeed, the companions would often come and express their loyalty to the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) with the same term. The context of the story and the clear love on display necessitates the translation as it has been given.

The beauty of this narration is that it shows some of the excellence of the Arabs in their poetry, their concern for love and romance, and emphasises the overriding principle of ease and gentleness in Islam as illustrated by the Prophet, despite Islam’s strict disciplinary and penal code in times of necessity.

So, from the many lessons, points of law and indeed benefits of this narration as mentioned by the scholars:

1. The intrinsic gentle nature of the Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam).

2. Pardoning precedes punishment.

3. The power of love and its consequences, to the extent that it can make a man forget death.

4. Love (and its consequent sadness) can kill as illustrated by how Hubaysh died of grief.

5. A lesson to be learnt for those attempting to give fatwa to kill someone – it is the most difficult and unenviable of responsibilities.

6. The virtue of mercy to the creation, even if they differ with you.

7. The concern of the leader for giving all people the possibility of hearing about Islam, and hence his emphasis on da’wah.

8. That the leaders should always be fully appraised by those under his command so that he can either confirm their actions or correct them.

9. Both men and women of that time were equal in their knowledge of Arabic language and culture. Shouldn’t we give our women greater opportunity today to do the same?

10. It is permissible to look at a non-Mahram woman if there is a need; how else were the Sahābah able to describe her skin so accurately?

11. The intrinsic disadvantages of keeping continual company of such criminals or evil people. The man wasn’t even from this group yet he was taken because he was with them.

12. The severity of the Sahābah, radhyAllāhu ‘anhum, on kufr and criminals.

13. There is no need for expiation/blood money if the Mujāhidīn make an honest mistake after their best efforts of ijtihād. Did they make their best effort? There is discussion on this point.

14. Punishment is not immediate; a delay for requests or other reasons is allowed.

15. The Prophet (sallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) would often reprimand his Companions, and as here, with severity.

16. The Sahābah are not ma‘sūm (protected from making mistakes and sinning).

And Allah ‘azza wa jall knows best.

At The Last Gate

AlMaghrib — Sat, 19 Sep 2015 00:00:00 GMT

The war
Took mama’s arm and
three walls of our little blue house.
The journey
Took five chocolate bars and my favourite doll,
And now I see purple blisters on baba’s feet and-at night-
Tear streaks on mama’s cheeks.
On the way we play a game where
each gate is the next level
we have to unlock
And baba says some guards will be meaner
than the others
That on some days there will be no bread and
our shoes might tear
But that’s okay,
It’s all part of the game and
we need to keep our eyes open while walking,
not stopping to smell the yellow flowers
because at the last gate
There is a warm bed, waiting, with soft pillows,
And blankets to cover my shivering legs.
At the last gate we don’t have to beg and
At the last gate we can stop walking and rest
At the last gate mama and baba will smile
And At The Last Gate
I can close my eyes.

The Syrian Child

AlMaghrib — Tue, 08 Sep 2015 00:00:00 GMT

في الطفل السوري
The Syrian Child

عجِبتُ للبحرِ إذ يُلقيكَ مُنفرِدا … ويرحلُ الموجُ عن جَنْبَيكَ مُبتعِدا
I was amazed at the ocean that left you like that. All alone.
Even the waves have departed far from your side

أخالهُ واجماً من هولِ صدْمَتِهِ … أو لائماً نَفْسَهُ إذ لم يَمُدَّ يدا
I thought perhaps he is in shock at the great grief he has seen
Or perhaps he blames himself for not putting out his hand to help

أو جاء معتذراً مما ألَمَّ بهِ … ويُشهِدُ الأرضَ في قتلاهُ ما قصدا
Or perhaps he was remorseful about what had happened within him
Wanting to establish witnesses on Earth, that he had not intended to kill

كأنه مُشفِقّ أدى رسالتَهُ … يعاتبُ البَرَّ والإنسانَ والبلدا
Like a sincere one just delivering his message
He approached: land, mankind, civilisation

جلبْتَهُ سالماً من قَعْرِ مُظلِمةٍ … ليرقدَ الْيَوْمَ بالشطآنِ مُلتَحِدا
You brought him sound, from the middle of darkness
So he will sleep on the shore, and make it finally to his grave

احْفَظْهُ يا بَرُّ فالأجيالُ قادمةٌ … كيما ترى بائعَ الأوطانِ ما حَصَدا
Please, land, protect this body for the generations to come
So that those who sold their nations will see what they have harvested

حتى يكونَ على الأيامِ ملحمةً … تُردِدُ الأمُّ فحواها ومن وَلَدا
So that it will be the story of our time
repeated for ever, by all mothers, and fathers likewise

ولا أُراهُ إذا زاروه يرمقهم … فما رأى سائلاً منهم ولا مدَدا
Don’t think that when the people visit him, that he will even look at them
For he never heard them asking about him before, or giving him any support

أكبَّ للأرضِ حيث الأمُّ قد فُقِدَت … وأطرقَ الطَّرفَ إغضاءً لِما شَهِدا
So he placed his face on the Earth, looking out to where he lost his mother
And he has not looked at anyone else, out of shame as to what he has seen

كي لا يَرَى باكياً منهم إذا قدِموا … فدمعُهم كاذبٌ لا شكَّ إن وُجِدا
Let no-one cry about him as they come
Their tears are a lie, no doubt, if they even exist at all

وما عسى دمعُهم يوماً سينفعُه … إذا دَعَتْهُ جنانُ الخلدِ لو وَفَدا
What kind of benefit will their tears have for him anyway
When the Eternal Heavens call him, when he goes to it

لا باركَ اللهُ في الأشرارِ قاطبةً … وأنجز اللهُ في بشارَ ما وعدا
May Allah never bless the evil people, all of them
And may Allah see out His threat against Bashar as promised

Muslim Apologies

AlMaghrib — Wed, 02 Sep 2015 00:00:00 GMT

Muslim Apologies

by Nazreen Fazal

Every night before sleep
I swallow little pills of apologies,
Regular doses so I can doze,
See dreams well without random security checks
Every morning I mourn
The day and its turns
As I stir in strong condemnation with my tea
As I brush my teeth with more apologies
As I cloak myself in the otherness bestowed to me
And step into a gaze that
Never leaves
Never cedes.

And they say:

Why don’t you just make up your mind-
Condemn or condone-
Get it right this time.
There is no way out so
Shout out your moderation from rooftops
Declare yourself civilized so we have no doubts

Scream that your religion is peace and
Continue to String prayers beads with apologies
For the crimes you did not commit
For the times you did not admit
Your absolute irrelevance in
This world we have made for ourselves
Apologize,
Or let us paint you in seven shades of hate

Stay quiet
As we pillage and plunder
Your bodies and boundaries.
Don’t question our privilege
For offence is our right and
Dissent was never your due.
Accept the labels we so kindly bequeath
And tweak your faith to our ease.
Till you fold into the corners we spare and
Contort your history to erase our errors
Cull terror cells in your wombs and
Raise new tombs and
Raze new tombs.

Here, let us save you
Now express freely,
In our terms.
Adorn your brown, black and blue bodies with our ideas
Abandon your tongue and Put away your words
Weave your oppression into the strands of your veil
Now twirl around so the world can see you
So free.
But Please
Don’t let your truths seep into our world and
Stain structures built for you on your bones.
Don’t colour
What was just meant to be black and white
Rather gather
Your apologies
For you will need them again
And again.
Store them in purses and pockets,
Seek crevices of your being that matter.
Tuck them into the delicate folds of your blue scarf,
Slip them between yellowed pages of the history book
behind the broken jar or just
Spread thin on the empty plates of your hungry child.

Fill apologies in your pores and your prose and your poems
Till you can no longer breathe.

Do You Want To Hear A Poem?

AlMaghrib — Sat, 29 Aug 2015 00:00:00 GMT

That’s a rhetorical question by the way before all of you start saying yes, because I can’t write poetry for toffee.

I mean, sure, I like to mess about with fun poetry along the lines of “Roses are red, violets are blue, I don’t have a clue what to add as a third line, and you probably don’t too” but that isn’t real poetry is it?

Poetry is an art. When done incorrectly, it attracts the wrath of Allah and His Messenger due to its content, or to the time it wastes, or if it is accompanied with illicit actions or musical genres associated with evil etc.

But when done correctly, it is sweet honey.

Poetry can be an appreciation of the Divine. That can lead to acts of worship and an increase in our love for worship and an increase in our love for the One that we worship. There is no greater accolade than that.

Poetry can be an appreciation of the creation of the Divine. This can lead to acts of love and an increase in our love for love and an increase in our love for the one that we love. There is no greater appreciation than this from the loved one.

Poetry can be the transmission of knowledge. It teaches in a way where sometimes prose has struggled. The poet can often say what the scholar struggles to. And if we find a scholar-poet then he is the king of all.

Poetry can be the refutation that other responses just cannot reach. It can be the clarification, the commentary and it can be knowledge itself.

Poetry is a skill. Poetry is a weapon. Poetry is peace. Poetry is war.

Do you really appreciate the art of poetry? Or like me, do you appreciate it more because of the very fact that we have so little of it today?

The classic times have gone. For poetry to survive today means it has to be of exceptional quality and purity. The competition is big, and the competition is often nasty. Rap is poetry’s naughty little brother. Rhythmic pop songs are poetry’s evil dictator uncle.

Muslims need in our times more quality poetry from top quality poets who don’t sell out their style, values and most importantly, Islamic ethics.

I crave poetry and so should you. It is the revival of art, the revival of knowledge, and the revival of ideas. And if there’s anything Muslims must aim for in such miserable times, then it is the revival of art, knowledge and ideas!

Steve Coleman famously once said:

I want to hear a poem where ideas kiss similes so deeply that metaphors get jealous, where the subject matters so much that adjectives start holding pro-noun rallies at city hall.

I want to hear a poem, I want to feel a poem, I want to taste a poem. Give me your spot on the mike if you want to waste a poem.

Uff, what a shot.

I just want to second Steve. And so, I would love to hear some short impactive poetry on any subject you like posted in the comments below. The best one, gets a prize. Don’t ask about what the prize is because we are poets here and poets don’t ask about prizes. They ask, “Did you read my poem?”

Yalla. Give me what you got.