10 replies to this topic

[Sehnsucht]

What drives a mother to wish both a long life and a quick death upon the same beloved child?

These are just a poet's suppositions of what prayers dwelled in the heart of Lady Rubab within the prison of Damascus...

Prayers for My Child

Once upon a star-crossed night, I wrapped my arms around you,
You glittered like a gem once lost, and alas- I had finally found you!

I felt as though my wilting heart, had blossomed like rose awoken,
And I vowed I would never let you know, what it meant to be heart-broken.
I snuggled your precious body close, so the cold would not alarm you,
And perhaps I felt if I never let go, the world could never harm you.

When I brought you into this ugly world, I dreamt of all you'd be,
But most of all I prayed to God, that you'd live forever free.

I imagined that the heaven's light, would never leave your eyes,
And that fleeting hunger or sleepy fuss, would be your only cause to cry.
I looked upon your face that night; just moments after birth,
And swore the fairies must have blessed, your beauty with their mirth.

You glowed within your cradle; so unaware of everything,
As though angels rained from Heaven's heart, and cloaked you with their wings.

I dreamt that you would walk someday, on your wobbly little frame,
And with a giggle on your ruby lips, squeal out your father's name.
We would take you in our arms with joy and sprinkle you with kisses;
We'd forget the harsh realities, and compose our lives with blisses.

Until we reached the land of pain, in these dreams I kept belief,
But as I watched your dreamlike sparkle die, I buried my hopes with grief.

I prayed I would never wake at night, to hear your painful crying,
As you thought of all your loved ones lost, who for three days straight went dying.
I wished with all my careworn heart, that you would never gaze up high,
And pray at such a tender age, for God to let you die.

But even these hopes were swept away, when your father dear was killed,
From then to die and be with him, was all your spirit willed.

Your withered body looked to be, of a CHILD of four years,
But it would have seemed a million years, if age were known by tears.

Alas, my darling little rose, I had not yet realized,
That the only way to find peace for you, would be to let you die.

When one gloomy Safar morning, I heard the call for prayers ring,
I finally learned that to give you peace, God would take my everything.
I would have shielded you from harm, like I'd vowed I always would,
But the reasons God has are infinite, and I could not have understood.

You lay sleeping softly in a heap, where death's angel drank your life,
Your tiny body like a sheath; fatality like a knife.

I lifted you, O sweetest child, like a time four years ago,
And forever etched upon your face, was that heaven-painted glow.
I comforted you each dreary night, and you never slept with peace,
But I lay you down this final time, and alas your fears will cease.

I bury you now, my innocent, in a grave I fill with love,
My final prayer that eternal peace will be with you, up above.

Look not back, or be afraid, when the Angel clasps your hand.
Do not turn back for me, my child, for if this is what God has planned,
I will pray to Him to give me strength, to smooth the dirt upon your grave,
So do not cry when you think of me; for your mother's sake, be brave.

Forgive me precious little jewel, for every broken vow;
You'll feel no pain in your new home, so sleep forever now.

-Rubab Zaidi

[Wise Muslim]

Salam.

Ma'shallah. This is very sweet and touching.

[Sehnsucht]

^ Waleikum salaam...

Thank you bro.

[Thaqalain]

Masallah God bless you for presenting so nice story of Damascuss Prison. I used answers online dictionary to see meanings. It took me at least 30 minutes to finish reading the poem due to very slow connection.
Next time can u try to include a list of difficult words with meanings?

[faithful_sister]

That was beautiful  

Allah bless you and your child

Wassalam

[*~* Malika *~*]

Salam,

Your withered body looked to be, of a CHILD of four years,
But it would have seemed a million years, if age were known by tears.

^ The most powerful verse ...

With Muharram dawning upon us, the heart longs to be reliven by remembering Hussain's little caravan. Thank you Rabab for sharing expressions of the heart ...

[Spriglief]

This is my second time reading and again I find myself to depressed to write a proper critic.  This poem psychologically beats the hell out of you.  It is to powerful.

[Sehnsucht]

Thaqalain, on Jan 16 2007, 02:55 AM, said:

Masallah God bless you for presenting so nice story of Damascuss Prison. I used answers online dictionary to see meanings. It took me at least 30 minutes to finish reading the poem due to very slow connection.
Next time can u try to include a list of difficult words with meanings?

I'm very sorry for the trouble, I didn't realize the words were so difficult but deeply appreciate the effort you made to understand this; thank you very much brother.  Insh'Allah I'll keep your suggestion in mind.  If there's ever anything you don't understand in the future, please feel free to ask me and I'll gladly explain.

faithful_sister, on Jan 16 2007, 09:06 AM, said:

That was beautiful  

Allah bless you and your child

Wassalam

Thanks very much, dear sis.

*~* Malika *~*, on Jan 16 2007, 11:49 AM, said:

Salam,

Your withered body looked to be, of a CHILD of four years,
But it would have seemed a million years, if age were known by tears.

^ The most powerful verse ...

With Muharram dawning upon us, the heart longs to be reliven by remembering Hussain's little caravan. Thank you Rabab for sharing expressions of the heart ...

Thank you & indeed...

Spriglief, on Jan 16 2007, 03:24 PM, said:

This is my second time reading and again I find myself to depressed to write a proper critic.  This poem psychologically beats the hell out of you.  It is to powerful.

Thanks very much, and very true point... It isn't my frail words that create the psychological death trap, though, it's the actual events upon which this work was based...

In about 682 AD, the younger grandson of the Holy Prophet, Imam Hussain , travelled toward a land named Kufa with the intention of religiously educating the ignorant people there.  Before he could reach his destination, however, he was stopped by the mercenaries of the governor of the city and ordered to a land named Karbala, wherein he and 72 companions and the majority of his male family members were killed for not paying allegiance to the tyrant ruler.  Accompanying him on this journey was his young wife Lady Rubab, may peace of God be with her.  Rubab had two children; a six-month-old son named Ali Asghar and a three-year-old daughter named Sakeenah.  Years earlier, Hussain had prayed to God for such a daughter that would fill his heart with peace and tranquility; who would whole-heartedly love him and who he would also love, and the little girl hence became known as Sakeenah; Arabic for 'tranquility'.  Sakeenah and her father shared an extremely deep and unbreakable bond; she would snuggle up to his chest each night and could not be at peace without him.  When she bade her final good-bye to her father in the battlefield of Karbala, therefore, Sakeenah became a living corpse; even at the tender age of three years, she would pray for death to come so she could be reunited with her father, and lived only for the hope of seeing him again.  The immense pain that her daughter experienced was torture upon torture for Lady Rubab; who in Karbala lost not merely her husband and other family members but also her infant son, whose throat was pierced by an arrow when his father had sought water for the thirsty baby and whose corpse was brought by Hussain into her very arms for the final farewell.  After the slaughter of Hussain, the newly-orphaned Sakeenah was slapped repeatedly by the looting enemies and the tents of her family were set on fire; a fire which also caught onto the very dress she wore.  The little girl's earrings, which had been gifted to her before her father's death, were snatched in a manner that ripped her ear lobes.  The veils of all the women were snatched while they were beaten, and they were taunted and psychologically tortured after having lost all their male family members; the only adult male remaining being Sajjad , the son of Hussain who had been too ill for battle.  On the night of pain when the tents were looted, Sakeenah ran into the battlefield amidst the bloodied, headless corpses, and upon finding that of her father's, lay down upon his chest as she had done when he was alive, and fell asleep.  When her worried aunt found her a while later, the child was stricken with grief as she realized that her father had not yet fulfilled his promise to take her with him.  

In the aftermath of Karbala, the remaining members of Hussain's party were paraded through the desert on foot; a single rope tying both the arms of women and the necks of children by the dozens.  The heads of all their loved ones, including that of the six-month-old baby and Hussain himself, were paraded on spears in front of their eyes the entire time.  After enduring this ongoing torture for countless days, the prisoners were led to a dank prison in Damascus, which contained just a single crack allowing a sliver of light and was completely dark otherwise.  It was through this crack that Sakeenah would gaze out each night and watch the pigeons flying toward their homes; asking innocently when her family would be allowed to return home as these pigeons were able to do.  She would cry silently at night, making sure not to be too loud so as not to further break the anguished heart of her mother, and seldom ever slept.  Her mother would often beg her to come lie in her lap, but plagued with memories of her father and other loved ones, Sakeenah could never find peace.

Finally, one day Sakeenah went to sleep and dreamt that her father had come to take her away and rid her of her pain.  Feeling the immense heartbreak of realizing her dream had not been real, Sakeenah was so grief-stricken when she woke up, that her wails could not be silenced. The tyrannical ruler himself heard of this disturbance, and upon finding out that the little girl was crying due to missing her father, he catered out an unimaginable degree of psychological torture.

One of the ruler's guards entered the prison holding a platter with a cloth over it.  As he approached the young child, she told him she had no desire for food.  As he lifted the cloth, however, the head of Sakeenah's beloved father was revealed; upon which Sakeenah flung herself, sobbing.  Not long after, the cries of the little girl were silenced as she lay still clutching the head; she had finally gone to sleep again, it appeared.  When her brother Sajjad rose to awaken her, however, he discovered that her body was cold.  Sakeenah's wish had finally been granted.  Collecting the spiked chains around his arms and neck, Sajjad and prepared to bury his little sister there within the prison that had so greatly disturbed her.  As the young mother beheld the corpse of the only hope left for her in the world, she fell upon it and begged the child to wake up, to no avail.  

Shortly afterward, the prisoners of Damascus finally gained their freedom- too late for the little girl to enjoy who had for so long awaited it.  As the anguished, beaten people left the jail, Lady Rubab made the people of Damascus promise that they would never leave her little girl alone; that they would visit her gravesite often and reassure the tortured spirit.

Some accounts in history tell us that within two years of returning to her home in Medina, Rubab died clutching the old clothes of her children; forever imprisoned within the haunting paradigm of grief.

[sk00n]

Wow, MashaAllah that was beautiful.

[Dzulfigar]

Very touching made me . The feeling of love written beautifull .

[widad]

Amazing poem... so beautifully written... I need to save and treasure this.

Wa'Salaam