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Madinat al-Muslimeen Islamic Message Board
| Comfortless dreams... |
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| Maliha |
| 03/15/04 at 12:02:52 |
| [slm][color=black][i] Comfortless dreams... I saw you in my dreams. You were so little, vulnerable, your eyes so wide…how did it happen? How could I step out of a room where worshippers, led by the Imam were watching Television. Yes, the idiot box is a sign of our times, those who rebel are considered backward. Stupid. You must watch the idiot box. You must be an idiot. You must keep up with these idiotic times. Yet, you were right outside. How could we not see you and your whole family? Your people, living in the shadows of destitution, yet no one cared that we were all co- conspirators to this crime. You called out my name, as I was running away. I was trying to move quicker, for it must have been a mistake. I couldn’t be here. What was I doing in a refugee camp? I had a home. I had a bed. I wanted no part of this pain, this unjustifiable existence. Yet you called out my name. How could I say no? I stopped to talk to you. To ask you mundane questions like “how are you?” When my insides were screaming in pain. Your face, so soft, so unpretentious, so tragically beautiful. You simply stared back, wide eyes, wider pools of dismal simplicity. You said you were hungry. I opened my bag and searched and searched. That even in my dreams, I could only find a couple of cents. A couple of cents to give to you. And crayons. “Do you like art?” I asked dumbly. You looked back at me, those searching eyes, those painful pools of reflection “Art isn’t food, it is not going to help us”. I know. I know. I searched and searched but couldn’t find anything…anything more than the couple of cents I gave you. “This is not enough”. I saw the tears forming. The hurt welling from the deepest recesses of collective and ancient grief… That even in my dreams, I couldn’t conjure up a meal. Or take you with me. That even in my dreams I couldn’t wipe away the imprints of such colossal inhumanity…I couldn’t wipe away what has been etched in eternal scrolls, inks flowing so freely from the tears within your soul. that even in my dreams, i couldn't offer you a comfortless embrace... Promises kept tumbling out of my lips, overflowing from a conscience steeped in guilt. “I will come back! I promise…I will come find you”. You looked at me, your wide eyes, accepting. Accepting my lies. Like you heard them so many times before. And like that you walked away. You weren’t mad. Just like that, you walked away, not even questioning that I couldn’t help you, I couldn’t help you even in my dreams. “What’s your name?!” I asked desperately. “Dhuriyya”. You replied, walking away. Leaving me grappling, Dhurriyya means offspring. You are my offspring? Confused. Desperate. “I will be back, I promise, I will come find you”. You, your wide eyes, your acceptance of my helplessness… you, a whisper in my dreams…telling me of my offspring, somewhere, dying, crying, hungry, suffering… and I, in the comfort of my existence, toying with barren art forms, useless…wondering why I couldn’t reach out to you…even in the illusory fragments of my dreams. -Maliha...[/color][/i] [wlm] |
| Re: Comfortless dreams... |
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| rkhan |
| 03/16/04 at 00:09:34 |
| [slm] [quote] That even in my dreams, I couldn’t conjure up a meal. Or take you with me. That even in my dreams I couldn’t wipe away the imprints of such colossal inhumanity…I couldn’t wipe away what has been etched in eternal scrolls, inks flowing so freely from the tears within your soul. that even in my dreams, i couldn't offer you a comfortless embrace... [/quote] That's so touching and so true sis. The children of our Ummah -- hungry, sick, dying, neglected, abused , forgotten need our help. They hv no need of our tears, they've enough of their own. Earlier I used to have these grandiose plans of doing something monumental for our kids, now I realize that even the smallest effort is a big deal. May Allaah help us wipe the tears off our children's faces in whatever way we can. |
| Re: Comfortless dreams... |
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| timbuktu |
| 03/16/04 at 00:43:42 |
| [slm] thanks sis Nur_al_Layl, for sharing such beautifully expressed emotions. there is need for poets and writers who move us with their words, and then there is need for those who work to lessen the suffering, as sis rkhan has said. It is always better to address such suffering in an organized manner. If you are alone as a muslim, you are bound by the circumstances, but if you have more people, do try to organize. Remember the Hadith in which we are asked to have a leader even if we travel in twos (or is it threes) ? There is a lot one can do when one is organized. with respect to time, and in other ways. |
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