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My GreenHouse

Because I’m on my way for a spiritual revival I have joined a Madrassa in which we daily learn Why to love Allah SWT? How to love Him SWT more? Etc etc. And this is why I call it my place of Aman (peace) my greenhouse, my growth place. Its name is #MaryamInstitute and its interesting to know how quickly you become a reflector once you start sitting in such gatherings. Its only through this reflection you start orienting your thoughts as poetry and try giving away people the feelings you feel or try to atleast.

And truly, every single day I sit there and I learn how negligient we are towards our ownselves, not in a strict manner but as I said once we start relecting over we keep thinking either we are doing this right? Or no? You know in love for Allah SWT we become worried about the thoughts we think, should we think such thoughts or no? The miscellaneous stuuf we watch and see? Should we do it or no? The action we do? Are we doing it the right way or no? Yes, All these reflections arise only from the sheer love for Allah SWT. They only arise because we want to and wish to and love to Increase in His love.

We also learn one more thing after such serious corrections done upon ourselves we learn one thing about our Beloved Allah and that is, He is extremely merciful and exclusively merciful! As a matter of fact it is the translation literal of translation of the dua we recite at beginning of most of the daily routine tasks. We call that dua tasmiyya. I.e. to Start something with Ism of Allah tallah. Thus every single day I feel like I have only understood and known Him upto the amount of Tasmiya a short dua. A beggining line. Every single thing I learn returns me back to His Sifaat of Rahmani and Raheemi. 💝

 

 

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Featured post

What about me?

So what about me? What brought me here, on wordpress, what made me create my own blog? Well, It was only to publish my heartfelt writings and tinnie tiny experiences. As my title is of a poetress I would like to let you all know it’s more metaphorical than literal. It’s more my status these days than my actual identity. I am a medical student trying to bring spirituality back to live. And trying really hard to live like an aesthetic in this world around me. I promise to not bore my readers with long posts ( also that I will not have time too for writing a detailed post) the posts will mostly be of my blank verse poetries which will always have an Islamic essence and some arabic words sprinkled over on it. Rest is a surprise 🙂

Enjoy reflecting, enjoy pondering!

Featured post

His Sunnah

maimuna-click-2

You know what happened,
One day a dehati came,
And voided in the middle of the Masjid,
It was not any masjid,
It was Masjid-e-Nabwi,
There were not just some Namazi,
They were the Sahabi and the Nabi,
Sahaba were so upset,
They wanted to hit him for this beyadbi,
“Do not interrupt lest it will cause him pain.”
Was what our Nabi proclaimed,
He got rid of that filth himself,
Flowing water on the affected piece of purity,
Showing how to cleanse both outwardly and inwardly,
The soot that some beyadbi’s create,
Tolerance yes, Forgiving more,
Was the Sunnah of our Beloved,
And this is how He prospered,
In preaching what Islam is,
Love, ease and peace.

– The Poetess Web

Picture Credits : Maimuna Munir

P.S :- Because the Sunnah of our Beloved Prophet s.a.w is like the open sky, no matter what question your heart is stuck on just look up and you’ll know the answers to your question.

Dehati is uneducated, rural person.

Beyadbi means lack of manners.

Sunnah means the way of the Prophet.


Had to write one today on tolerance. I was feeling the urge to as I wanted to console the poor self and remind myself how in my Prophet’s day and age too there were some bey adab, ill mannered. And how he used to act tolerant and forgiving towards them ❤ May we become the photocopies of His Ehsan Ikhlaq, ameen~

Inspired by : Junaid Jamshed’s talk on tolerating other Muslim sects.

 

Investing time

What makes you think, oh human? 

That giving time to the Creator of time, 

Will congest your already stressed-out routine? 

What makes you think, oh blind lover? 

That giving love to the Creator of Love, 

Will be a waste of time and energy? 

For me? 

I wish I could explain how things  worked in infinity,

Outside the bubble that we cant see, 

For love, we invest time, 

Investing time harvests Love, 

So why worry about the escapes of time, 

And its lapses, 

When the Creator of time is now,

His Beloved. -The Poetess Web

Clay doll

Since young age, she loved playing,

With Clay dolls, 

He loved everything but dolls,

Years later, grown ups now, 

Choices have changed other way around, 

She loves life, and living, 

But Now,He would like to play with a doll, 

He likes to break her leg all day, 

Cut her hair the way he likes, 

Tear her apart when nothing seems right, 

Life-less ain’t means worthless, 

And she wasnt both, 

Until you turned her, 

Into a clay doll of your choice.

– The Poetess Web

Woman’s need

They’ve made it so famous, 

“All a woman needs is love in her life,” 

May I have the honor, 

Of changing it without respite?

You, Sir, had it all wrong, 

For a life is long, 

If not in years then in days, 

Minutes and seconds to live by, 

All she ever needed was, 

And is, respect, 

Respected for the soul she is not the body, 

Respected for the shine she has not the complexion,

To be respected when she compromises and sacrifices, 

Respected when juggling with all her due rights, 

Trying to give each relationship its full, 

Respected when she cannot bear you kids, but bears the pain of an empty womb, 

Respected when she demands some space and time, 

Respected When she presents you her set priorities and you see yourself on number second, 

As her crippling boy needs her more than you reckon, 

Respect, when she’s not just been a wife, 

Rather a whole lot outside and inside, 

Why didn’t I chose love, Sir? 

If you wish to know,

Love has been described,

In your views and in their views, 

So many different ideologies, 

Has cloaked the word, 

As care, money and infatuation, 

They say your sorry is love too? 

But what about respect, Sir? 

Does it need any more explaination? 

Hard to find such a one word comprehension.

– The Poetess Web

Thumbnail relation to poetry:

Like a bud which tries its best to bloom yet when we see a bud we don’t comment; Oh I love it, but we respect it for blooming no matter how feeble or outstanding the resulting flower is.

Fade feelings

Does the happy moment of yesterday,

Doesn’t make you happy today?

Will it ever again? You ask, 

It seems the memories have gone pale, 

Should I let it fall? 

In the hope of some newer ones,

Or should not I endure, 

But was that happiness on the first place?

After all those wrinkles, am I not the same old,

So it was one happy moment no matter how temporary,

Or how opaque. 

– The Poetess Web

The poem says it all! 

Warmth inside.

This writing is really close to my heart, it clearly depicts what a seeker life is about. No matter if he is in a wedding or university or any other fun place. There is always something or the other that is attracting him and asking him to let loose. This world and the people in it are always distracting you, severely. And Allah tallah also says in the Quran “That I’ve made some of you a test for some, So will you have patience?” 

I did made rain an analogy here and maybe some of you will have contrary opinions about rain that it is the mercy of Allah SWT. It definitely is. But actually I haven’t made rain a villain here by calling it the sin that attracts you in public or private. Rather I’ve made going out in the rain and its enjoyemnt equal to how we forget ourselves and our Lord when sinning.  Because for most normal people rain stimulates our romantic centers and makes us forget our worries. Its the ecstasy that comes with rain. I am talking exactly about that. 

Having cleared that point as mentioned in the peom. Staying warm is the best decision that you’ll do at that very moment when sin is attracting you. Because after enjoying the rain all we are left with is coldness and then we merily wish to run back to our fire hoses and wish to gain back our energy. What we forget is that sin leaves us so cold. Stone cold sometimes. That we are unable to get warm again. And then the only way left is to melt. Melt in tears.

Be like melting snow,

Wash yourself of youself.

– Rumi

Divine Love 

I’ve been wanting to write again, and here I am finally writing. Although one of my posts was ready since ages but I wrote this just two days back and thought of posting it first because I had recently posted Autumnal Love, the opposite of Divine love. 

Here in this poem, I’ve actually tried to convey that asking or expecting unconditional love from someone is also initself a condition. A limit. A criterion that you are expecting to be followed by your spouse or your parents or siblings. The description for my understanding of love is just this one line “You are from Him and to Him you shall return” 

For a moment if we go back, I dont know, maybe millions of years back where Allah SWT created all the souls, since that very meeting this Love has started and it will grow or die in the time between our next meeting. But that dying or growing is from our side only. Not His. And in His love and for His love’s sake are all other Loves. Worldly relationship loves. If Allah is not in the equation you will never get the equation solved. 

Love is to belong. Not earn, taken, pressured, not physically but conceptually, spiritually. Yes it has more to do with the spirits. We all belong to a beginning which knows no end. 💖 And that beginning was Love, Himself. 

Autumnal Love


 

This writing and the template reminds me of how childishly one can fall in love, thinking it is love but it is not. Just infatuation maybe. I had to give voice to the maturity which screams over and pleads to be listened to. I had to do this. Because there is no better love than the love for divine and there is no better loved ones than the ones who cherish some sort of divinity between them, something sacred. ❤

I always think I can speak over on this topic a million words, but I fail to do so.

Pakistan’s birth and I

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