For the Children of Gaza

Where is the Humanity?
By Bisma Parvez

I saw a picture today.

I saw a picture today of a little boy

I saw a picture today of a little boy who looked like my son

Except his face was scruffy; his eyes: bloodshot and puffy

I saw his picture and noticed his pouting lips

He was about to cry. That image so crisp

So crisp in my mind because it affected me so

I saw a picture today of a little boy and I thought, “this could be my son”

Helpless and alone, among rubble and ash

Hearing screams and cries as the bombs crash

Crash down on him, his family, his home

And yet he sits there, afraid and alone!

Because there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,

This boy doesn’t even have a safe place to cry!

Being punished for a crime he didn’t commit

He is crying because he lost his mother

His mother who can no longer hug him, kiss him, and take care of him

This picture I saw, it tore me apart

My heart felt heavy, like a rock

This rock was weighing down inside of my chest

My chest could no longer bear the weight

The weight caused my heart to slip lower and lower

Lower it fell into the pit of my stomach

This rock, this heart, my heart, felt heavy

like it didn’t belong in my body

I wished I could rip it out and throw it away,

not feel the pain that it was causing

I felt the tears rolling down my face without pausing

But my pain can’t compare to the pain of this boy

Because he may never ever again feel any joy

My pain, imaginary because I still have my son

But the true loss is his, he is the one

The one that has no home, no one to care

HOW IS THIS OKAY? HOW IS THIS FAIR?

I saw a picture today of a little boy who looked like my son

and it caused my heart

to turn into a rock

and sink into the pit of my stomach

Now imagine

Close your eyes and imagine

Imagine their hearts

The weight that they feel

The ones who experience the real pain

Not from pictures and videos on Facebook

But from their lives: a killing game

And as I start to shake thinking of this boy

This boy, who looks like my son

WHO COULD BE MY SON
I realize that he isn’t the only one

Hundreds and thousands of children:

left alone

Buried under stone
Dying
Crying

Killed

Blood spilled

Seeing missiles in the sky

Knowing they’re going to die

Receiving a phone call to evacuate

But there is no place that is safe

Covered in blood

Eyes and ears shut

Wishing it away

But there’s no one to say,

“it’ll be okay.”

Because it won’t be okay!

I saw a picture of a little boy who looked like my son

And I can’t tell him it’ll be okay

It won’t be okay!

It won’t be okay until we open our eyes

Until we tell the world

Until we uncover the lies

Until we find humanity

Where is the humanity?

Where is the sanity?

Why so much apathy?

Gaza drowning in fatalities

Surrounded by calamity

Let me speak candidly

Because this is a reality

Where is the rationality

Killing because of nationality

While the world allows this brutality

What kind of psychopathic personality

Has this immense capacity

This disturbing mentality

To allow the bestiality

Of murdering savagely

Children and families
Calling them terrorists, while THEY live under tyranny

How can it be?

That the oppressed are the enemies?

I close my eyes and I think and I think

And my heart is getting heavier as it sinks and sinks

Worrying about this little boy who looks like MY SON

And so I took a breath - BREATHE

And I realize I am looking at a computer screen

As my son walks into my room asking for his toy
And so I return to my safe life, unlike that innocent little boy.

Ramadan Reflections - Day 22 - 23

I miss the Masjid.

I miss attending Taraweeh prayer during the beautiful nights of Ramadan. 

I miss rushing to finish my iftar after Maghrib so that we could clean up before leaving the house for Isha. 

I miss struggling to find parking because no matter how early we leave, people still beat us there. 

I miss walking into the women's section and seeing that even though there is still 20 minutes until Isha, the lines are already packed and it's hard to find a spot. 

I miss looking down and seeing the rows and rows of men, waiting for the Isha Adhan. 

I miss seeing the ladies walk in late for Isha, yet still trying to squish into the first row.

I miss the feeling of frustration of getting kicked to the back line even though I came early. 

I miss the Arab auntie who always brings an extra abaya and spreads it next to her to save 3 spots for her friends right next to the door. 

I miss the Somalian aunties trying to touch my feet and moving them closer to me even if I try to move away. 

I miss the Pakistani aunties greeting me as if I am their own daughter and asking me if my mom is attending taraweeh that day. 

I miss the ladies sitting in the middle of the rows during the break and trying to squeeze into the front row when everyone stands up. 

I miss the Arab aunties turning around and shushing us and yelling 'Haram!' when they were the ones who were talking the loudest. 

I miss the standing in prayer and getting tired, contemplating if I should sit down but deciding against it during every rakat. 

I miss bending down in ruku and thinking, 'I should've worn socks."

I miss bowing down in sujood and getting distracted by the ladies who practically yell, 'Subhaana Rabbi al-A’laa.'

I miss wondering which woman is reciting surahs out loud as if they are the Imam.

I miss looking for my friends when I walk into the ladies' section and then praying next to them. 

I miss sitting cross legged in order to save a spot for a friend or family member. 

I miss the beautiful faces, waiting for the next prayer to start. 

I miss the Masjid. 

Until next time...

Ramadan Reflections - Day 19 - 21

What is my tongue? 

Is it a mere organ, lifeless and inanimate, simply lying around so that I can taste and speak? 

No, it cannot be that my Creator would make an organ so useless and undeserving. My tongue has more purpose, more life and reason. My tongue has more use than simply being used in the dunya. Indeed, it will follow me to my grave and to my judgment. My tongue has a powerful purpose.

Is my tongue my friend, someone who says beautiful words and makes others smile? Is it my confidant, someone who doesn't allow me to make mistakes and protects me from saying things that I may later regret? Is it my teacher, someone who guides me to say what's right and only speak the truth? Is it my trustee, someone who will not speak in opposition to me or be a witness against me? Is my tongue my guide, encouraging me to praise my Creator?

Or is my tongue my enemy, betraying me when I need it most? Does it allow me to say and do as a please, only to witness against me later on? Is my tongue my adversary, letting me speak ill of whomever I please? Is my tongue my rival, relishing in the mistakes I make, the lies I tell and the gossip I spread?

The answer is simply: it is up to me. It is up to me how I choose to treat my tongue. It is up to me if I make a friend of this organ or let it become my enemy. It is up to me how I live my life. 

It cannot be that I could be so foolish, letting that which is so close to me become my own opponent. And so I pray that I am wise enough to make the right decision and befriend my tongue, make it my confidant and counsellor. I pray that mt tongue will stand with me, protecting me on the only Day that matters. 

Ameen. 

Until next time...

Ramadan Reflections - Day 13

"I am the next step, your future home. You may be with me for only a short time or for longer than you can imagine. I do not offer hardwood floors or stainless steel appliances. I cannot give you a bedroom or a closet for your belongings. I have nothing to offer, but a simple space. Please know, that your time and stay with me is not my choice. I have no say in how your visit will pass.

"You may find comfort in me, light and space. You may see gardens from my windows and rivers flowing freely. You may smell the lovely scent of the Heavens and feel the cool breeze of Paradise. Regardless, you will look forward to the end of your stay, anticipating the rewards and blessings that lie ahead. No matter how wonderful of a host I am, you will realize that there is much more to gain.

"On the other hand, you may find only torture during your stay, in which case I will not be able to ward off the serpents and creatures that will enter. They will eat away at your body and soul, causing unbelievable pain. You may see flames from my windows and feel the blaze as if it is right under you. You may smell the sour scent of burning flesh, yet you will not want to leave me, knowing that much more aguish and suffering lies ahead. I will not be able to help you or lend any ease.

"Frequently remember me, your future home. I hope to be a gracious host, one who offers coolness and light. But if I am told, I will be dreadful, filling myself with serpents and flames. Moving in is inevitable; it is not up to you or I. But how your time shall is indeed in your hands. Think of me a warner, hoping to spare you the misery that I have seen so many go through. Please do not blame me if things don't go your way, though I certainly hope your time will be pleasant. So be wise of the choices you make and realize the precautions you need to take."

Sincerely, 

Your Grave

Until next time...

Ramadan Reflections - Day 11

I am content.

I am content with what my Creator has decreed for me, for He knows what is best for his creation, like a mother knows what is best for her child. He knows my abilities, capabilities, responsibilities and inadequacies. My Lord knows my flaws and weaknesses. He knows the limit of my patience and what I cannot bear. The Most Merciful has full knowledge of my circumstances, my shortcomings, my wants and my needs. So, I am content with His resolve, for He is The Almighty!

I am content.

I am content with what my Judge has declared law. I am content with his orders and commands, for He is aware of what I cannot even fathom. He knows the past, present and future, the seen and the unseen. He knows what limitations and restrictions will help me be the best that I can be: the best mother, the best wife, the best daughter, the best sister, the best human and the best Muslim. The Just is fully aware of the state of my affairs, my situations and only He can bring about the outcome which will help me thrive in the dunya and the akhira. My heart is at ease that The Protector of all things is the one with authority. So I am content with The Merciful as my Judge, for He is The Most Compassionate.

I am content.

I am content with what The Provider has bestowed upon me: sustenance and health, family and friends. I am content that The Generous has honored me with my sight, my hearing and my tongue, so I may perceive His beautiful creations, listen to His mighty words and speak His deserving praises. The Source of All Goodness has given me what is only best for me. His bounties are unimaginable and incomparable. So I am content that The Bestower has favored me with that which I do not deserve.

I am content.

Until next time...

Ramadan Reflections - Day 6

To my beloved,

It's happened.

You have begun to take over my life. You are constantly in my thoughts. I wait for the moment that I can get some time with you, just you and I, one on one. I miss you when we are not together and I cherish the moments when we are. 

People try to keep us apart. They tell me they need me. But they do not need me more than I need you. I yearn for the time that you and I are reunited, so that I can understand your beautiful words and ponder over your meaningful expressions. Our relationship, our bond is like no other. I don't doubt your words, don't challenge your commands. I am certain of your statements and know that our discussions are like no other in the world.

I am not suspicious of your motives. You are not selfish, jealous or envious. You want only what is best for me and I adore your morality and dependability. Your purity amazes me and I pray that one day your integrity will influence me.

You are my mentor, my inspiration, my advisor and my friend. You are my love. You are true. You, oh exquisite Quran, are the words of the Almighty and you are my guide to Paradise. 

Thank you Noble Quran for always being there for me. 

Until next time... 

Du'a of a Sinner

Check out my poem on IGIC - I Got It Covered

DU'A OF A SINNER

Oh Allah, my Creator, my Lord,
You are certainly the Knower of all.
How long has it been since I have spoken with You?
Surely, I have let myself fall.

Oh Merciful, my praise seems completely unfit,
How can Your humble servant honor You?
The inadequacy of my words leaves me feeling meek.
Do they even hold any value?

All praises are for You and You alone.
I do not deserve what I have been given.
Yet here I am, asking for more,
Regardless of my sins, I hope You will listen.

Ya Rabb, Your slave turns obediently towards You,
In hopes of love and forgiveness.
My sins, so vast, take over my life,
And of that You are a witness.

Forgive my trespasses and replace them with good deeds
Though that is more than I deserve,
The tears in my eyes show my extreme regret
I pray in Jannah there is a place for me reserved.

My Lord, bestow upon me the wisdom and iman,
To truly live this dunya like a test.
I cannot fathom the tortures of the grave and hell
Protect me from such suffering, I request.

Forgive my eyes for what they have seen,
And my ears for what they have heard.
Forgive my tongue for the gossip and lies.
I wish I had not blundered.

My past, so tainted, haunts my thoughts,
I pray for a better life, this one and the next.
Love me and forgive me, regardless of my flaws,
And with me, do not be vexed.

Protect my family, my friends and the Ummah,
Forgive our sins, the big and small,
The ones we insisted on, knowing they were wrong,
And even the ones we do not recall.

Grant us good deaths, as Muslims and Mu’minun,
And take our souls with ease.
Let the last words we say be, “La illaha ill Allah.”
And let us enter Jannah without trial, please!

Wrap our bodies in a lovely scented cloth,
And let our angels be beautiful and bright.
Show us our places and homes in Jannah,
Ya Rabb, fill our spacious graves with light.

I know that I am certainly undeserving of this,
But You are surely Ar Rahman Ar Raheem,
So shower me with mercy, the limitless mercy You have,
And accept my du’as. Ameen!