A flower from among the flowers…


I start in the name of The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful; all praise and glory be to Him. And I continue with salutations upon salutations to His Most Beloved, The Leader of all The Prophets, Our Master and Our Intercessor on the Day of Judgement Muhammad (saw). And I forward his greetings of glad tidings to all those who strive to adopt perfection in following this most noble path of his, till time draws to a close and Yawmul Qiyamah dawns upon us…

Asalaamu Alaykum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakaatuh,

It was an average Summer’s day. The sun was high in the sky and there was not a whisper of a cloud in sight. I had left the house to purchase some groceries from the local shop. If I remember correctly, it was the day of Jumu’ah, so virtue and blessings were in abundance.

As everyone knows, it is during the summer when many flowers begin to bloom and display their beautiful artistry of colours and emanate their most sweet fragrances. I’m not exactly a ‘flowery’ person, so all that about the flowers blooming etc. doesn’t really apply to me. However, little did I know that in a matter of a few minutes I would witness such a virtuous flower, not from the flower gardens of this world, but from a garden which our eyes have never seen and our minds could never conjure nor comprehend.

So I walked into the shop and set about my business collecting the groceries I needed to buy. A little girl donning a hijab was stood next to me, no older than 7 or 8 years old. She stood for a while, staring up at the various drinks held in the drink’s fridge. A little girl looking for which drink to buy on a summer’s day; I thought nothing of it. I glanced at this little girl a couple of times. She seemed slightly worried and perplexed for some reason or another.

She grabbed a fizzy drink’s can and turns to the shopkeeper asking ‘Is this Halaal?’. I assumed that her mother was close at hand, and that she wanted to know if this was drinkable before putting it into her shopping basket. The shopkeeper was not a muslim, so he replied saying that he wasn’t sure. Again, this little girl picked up another can and repeats the question. ‘Excuse me, is this Halaal?’. The shop keeper again replied ‘Errr, I’m not sure’.

I looked at the face of this little girl again. I could see she was becoming overwhelmed by the worry that she may be purchasing and consuming something which is potentially not permissible. Never before have I seen an adult, let alone a child, look so worried about differentiating between Halal and Haraam.

The girl turned to me noticing that I was Muslim and began to ask me the same question.

So I decided to intervene. I explained to the shop keeper that Halaal basically is a religious condition for Muslims where the foodstuffs are prepared as prescribed by Muslim Law. The shopkeeper was glad that I explained to him and said that he was glad to have learnt something new. Now I turned to the girl and told her that the drink she had selected was halaal, and that the drinks in this fridge are all Halaal, since they don’t contain any forms of Alcohol or impermissible substances.

Relieved, she happily paid for her drink and skipped out the shop to continue with her innocent childhood, perhaps never to remember this spectacle again. On the other hand, I have not forgotten and can not forget this beautiful scenario. A scenario which made my heart melt in awe and admiration.

An 8 year old girl, who has such a level of awe and fear of God that she questions each drink she holds in her hand, and that there’s a possibility that by consuming this drink I may be violating a command of God. This form of abstinence is a Principle of Islam and a common trait of those who have little concern about this Dunya or in other words; the ascetics. Never have I seen even among the pious adults in our community, such behaviour. It could be naivety or paranoia, I don’t know and I don’t care. To see such noble and virtuous disposition in someone so fair in the year…nothing but a Prophetic Narration springs to mind:

‘A virtuous child is a flower from among the flowers of Paradise’

Indeed I had witnessed and smelt the fragrance of Paradise emanate from the piety of that flower in that grocery store.

I pray that Allah rewards the parents of this girl for teaching her such admirable etiquettes, and may He raise their ranks in Jannah. I pray that Allah keeps this girl steadfast upon the Religion and increases her in her piety. May she be her parents reward on Yawmul Qiyamah, and may she become a forerunner and an example for the Muslims of today and tomorrow.

Ameen Ya Rabb…


Even if you adhered to the complete Fiqh in your Salah, yet you have no Khushu and Khudhu within it, your Salah will bear you no benefit…

Shaykh Muhammad Akram Al-Nadwi

Oh my Companion Ramadhaan, how I miss you…

In the Name of Allah The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful.

I haven’t been here for a while…

So the days of Blessings and Virtue have left us and I cannot express in words, the plethora of feelings and emotions I am going through.

I look to the clock hand and see each second, minute and hour devoid of Allah’s preciousness, fadl and mercy.

The days; hot and savage, yet irresistible in the reward that beat down with the sun’s rays, have become hostile, cold and harsh towards me.

The breeze was once sweet with the fragrance of Angels; scaling up and down the Seven Heavens to deliver the glad tidings of salutations and reward to the devoted worshippers upon Earth. Now the air tastes toxic upon my lips and stale in my lungs, leaving me gasping for breath.

With every heartbeat my soul calls out for that companion who visits but once a year. A companion whose virtue and suhba is only really appreciated once he has departed.

The nights. Oh how I miss the nights.  Shrouded in a blackened cloak, the skies were heavy with the recitation of Qur’an. Unbearable. On the verge of bursting forth and showering the very letters of the recited words of Allah upon the lands. Whilst the Mother Earth’s thirst was quenched with the sincere tears cascading from the eyes of the devout. The pillars and walls of the Masaajid trembling with the unified voices and echos of Forgiveness, Reward, Salvation, Protection and Ameen

A poet once said to his departing friend

‘Do you realise my emotions of grief are overflowing at your departure?..

We were once together And today the reigns of our bonds have been released,

Today we part but your voice will always resound in my ears…’

Ya Allah, let the remnants of Ramadhaan remain within our lives and souls forever more. Ya Allah, reunite us with this most noble friend of ours.


Decipher my ‘Hieroglyrics’

Let this Enlightened Kid cypher-in,

Tooled with the Iron-tipped lead that I’m writing with,

My mind is drilled open; rhymes will spill,

Can you decipher the life I live; hieroglyphs

Remember the School days,

Lunchtime Hallway; All day my friends were lighting spliffs,

But I never smoked the bud,

Because the Lord cloaked my lungs with Diamond ribs,

You could never melt my frame; I hold the Sun,

No need for molten gloves,

Forbid the Evil and flow the Haqq until I’m soaked in blood,

Drenched in Red ink,

Cleft your brethren, entrance and exit wounds with a pen tip,

I’m ‘illness’; I can’t be disinfected,

Head spins, breathe slips through a slit neck with my chest ripped,

6 feet beneath I’m left,

Should have lived and let live, but I guess it’s too late because now I’m a Dead Kid…

The power of a Mother’s Dua

Asalaamu Alaykum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakaatuh and greetings,

I pray that you are all in the best states of health and faith.

I recently had an interview to attend at a place about an hour and a half train journey (plus another 4 miles to the place my interview was being held) from where I live. I must say I felt a little nervous, since the whole idea of attending an interview so far away seemed pretty daunting. My mother insisted that I take a cab from the train station to the place my interview was being held, since there were no regular buses running so early in the morning, and walking it there would have taken about 30 minutes.

So the day before my interview I booked a cab to pick me up from the station.

On the interview day as I arrived at my destination station, my mother calls me and asks if I arrived safely on time.  I said yes, praise be to Allah I have. So she says to me ‘I hope your cab is a nice person. Hopefully he won’t be someone racist’. The reason she said this is because there aren’t many Muslims in this area, so she was worried that I may stick out like a sore thumb. I guess my mother was just over-exaggerating (per usual). I guess all mothers do that right?

Anyway…I walk out the station and head towards my booked cab. I enter and give my greetings to the driver, apologising for the delay. A conversation commences and we exchange names…

Guess what? My cab was a Muslim! We had a brief conversation in Arabic and started discussing the wonders and splendour of Arabic language. We then moved onto the topic of mothers and discussed how a person can never achieve happiness in this world and in the hereafter if they have not pleased their mother.

So I told him that my mother was worried about my cab being not a nice person. He replies by saying that ‘You’re mother’s prayer and worry was accepted and dealt with by Allah’. I told him I will convey his greeting to my mother, which he appreciated very much. I had arrived at my interview and we departed with greetings of peace and a smile on my face. My nerves and worries had been dealt with, Alhamdulillah…

It is amazing how Allah listens to the prayer of our mothers and addresses their worries and concerns, without them even asking Him.

I pray that Allah raises the ranks of our mothers in this world and in the Hereafter, and may we be their vessels of Reward and Blessing on the Day of Judgement.

Ameen Ya Rabb.

The 1st Friday after entry into Jerusalem

Once Salaahudin (Rahimahullah) had besieged The Holy Lands, the time had come for The City of Jerusalem to be entered. The Historians mention that The Jurists, Poets, Ascetics, Civilians and Military lined the streets as Salaahudin entered the City. At once preparations were made for Jumu’ah, the 1st to be held in Masjid Al-Aqsa in 88 years. The Muslims purified the Masjid from The Crusader’s pollution. The Dome of The Rock was restored and the Masjid walls were cleansed.

Whilst this was happening, Salaahudin’s mind was somewhere else. His mind was with those people who had conducted his Tarbiyyah all those years ago, namely Noorudin Al-Zingi; his senior, his Teacher, his role model. Salaahudin never forgot to bestow favours upon those who bestowed favours upon him, so he called for The Pulpit Noorudin had built before his death, with the intention that this Pulpit will be installed into Al-Aqsa once The Holy Lands were liberated. And this is exactly was Salaahudin did, thus fulfilling the intention of his Teacher.

One the 1st Friday, there was a fierce skirmish about who would deliver the Khutbah among the Scholars, since to them there was no greater honour or privilege other than this. Imaadudin Al-Isfahani captured this moment. He said:

‘The Sultan sat with his face gleaming with happiness. His seat looked as if it were surrounded by the halo of the moon. Around him readers of Qur’an were reading the words of guidance and commenting; the poets were standing, reciting and seeking favours; whilst flags were being unfolded in order to be raised and the pens were being sharpened in order to convey the good tidings. Eyes were filled with tears of joy whilst hearts were humbled in devotion to Allah and in joy for the victory…’

 Just try to imagine the feeling…

Read the extract and answer the question at the bottom.

I swallowed my pencil so now I’m spitting lead,

Tend to make lyrics bend with a rigid pen,

Make the felt-tip drill his head,

Head-split; mimic death,

Leave his whole image red,

Keep the Alphabet spinning like I’m ‘flipping F’d’…That’s abbreviated,

Because I’m the best at being amazing,

You lot are Uber Novice,

I’m nothing more than Super-Sonic; Bruiser-Comet flows will spew like vomit,

Holding that glistening verb; scribbling verse,

This Lyrical Nerd will leave criminals murked,

Lyrics will slash as syllables burn,

I’ll make a man effervescence; I’ve just spat an epidemic,

Now tell me who’s Sicker with words?

Laying the gauntlet down to my enemies who don’t exist



Why do insignificant idiots try to tangle with this Brilliant Mav’rick?

Frivolous antics; don’t care,

This villainous Mad Kid,

Will spit a million idioms that’ll be killing ‘em mad-quick,

Syllables slashing criminals with a Lithium-clad fist,

I know I lack sense,

But I’m dripping ink with the literal meaning of Lyrical Madness…