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WHAT HUSAIN TAUGHT
Dr. Rabindra Nath Tagore
The world of things in which we live misses its equilibrium when its communication with the world of love is lost. Then we have to pay with our soul for objects which are immensely cheap. And this can only happen when the prison walls of things threaten us with being final in themselves. Then it gives rise to terrible fights, jealousies and coercions, to a scramble for space and opportunities, for these are limited. We become painfully aware of the evil of this and try all measures of adjustment within the narrow bonds of a mutilated truth. This leads to failure.
Only he helps us who proves by his life that we have a soul whose dwelling in the kingdom of love, and things lose the tyranny of fictitious price when we come to our spiritual freedom.
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Raat aaee hai Shabbir pey yalgaar-e-bala hai
Sathi na koi Yar na gamkhawr raha hai
Monis hai to Ek dard kee Gangore Ghata hai
Musfaq hai to Ek Dil key Dharakney kee sada hai
Tanhai kee, gurbat kee, pareshani kee shab hai
Yeh Khana-e-Shabbir kee Wirani kee shab hai
Night has set in, manifold miseries have Shabbir chained,
No friend, no companion and no well-wisher has remained,
The dark clouds of pain and suffering, are but his soother,
And the throb of his wounded heart, is the only comforter,
It’s the night of a lonely being, stranger, stranded and molested,
It’s the night of Shabbir’s house, which is desolate and devastated.
Dushman kee sipah khawab mein madhosh pari thee
Pal bhar ko kisi kee na idhar Ankh lagi thee
Har ek ghari Aaj qiyamat kee ghari thee
Yeh Raat bhot Aal-e-Mohammad pey karhi thee
Reh reh key bukaa Ahl-e-Haram kartey they Aisay
Tham tham key Diya Aakri shab jalta hai jaisay
Fast Asleep, the enemy soldiers were senselessly lying,
But this side, non could even wink in a situation trying,
This day, each and every moment was mortifying,
To the progeny of the Holy Prophet, this night was most terrifying,
The house-folks bewailed so, at times but helplessly,
As if the snuffed-out candle, flickers at the night-end slowly.
Ek ghoshay mein Un Sokhta Samanoan key Salaar,
Un Khak basar, Khaknuma Weeranaoun key Sardaar,
Tasna lab-o-Darmanada-o-Majboor-o-Dil-Figaar,
Is shaan sey bhaithay they Shah-e-Lashkar-e-Ahraar,
Masnad thi, na khilaat thi, na khuddam kharaey they,,
Haa tan pey jidhar dekhyee, So Zakham Sajay they
In a nook there was, the Commander of the deprived creatures,
The Chief of those uprooted and molested creatures,
Broken-hearted, exhausted, helpless and thirsty,
The Leader was sitting but with great dignity,
Neither was royal cushion, nor robe, nor were the attendants standing,
Multiple wounds were on his body, blood from each was oozing.
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It is Hussein’s sacrifice that has kept Islam alive or else in this world there would be no one left to take Islam’s name. – Swami Shankaracharya.
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Though Imam Hussein gave his life almost 1300 years ago, but his indestructible soul rules the hearts of people today. – Dr. Radha Krishnan, Former President of India .
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Vale of Sorrow
T.D. Chattani
Through the Vale of Sorrow does history trace
Two matchless martyrs our Prophet’s pets
Who left their hearths with Islamic grace
In hunger and thirst their duty to face.
Severed from home, exhausted on the field
Opposed by enemies who had Satan’s shield
They gave their lives that others be freed
From falsehood, tyranny & a kafir’s creed.
Most precious blood flowed from their veins
Battlefield of Karbala has still those stains
From our hearts should rush rivers of blood
Renewing our faith with this vital flood.
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The Night of Martyrdom
Mrs. Sarojini Naido. (M.R.)
(Indian Freedom Fighter)
(The Nightingale of India)
Black robed, bare-footed, with dim eyes that rain
Wild tears in memory of thy woeful plight.
And hands that in blind, rhythmic anguish smite
Their blood-stained bosoms, to a sad refrain
From the old haunting Legend of thy pain,
Thy votaries mourn thee thro’ the tragic night
With mystic dirge and melancholy rite
Crying to thee Husain! Ya Husain!
Why do thy myriad lovers so lament?
Sweet saint, is not thy matchless martyrhood
The living banner and brave covenant
Of the high creed thy Prophet did proclaim
Bequeathing for the world’s beatitude
Th’ enduring loveliness of Allah’s name!
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Shah ast Hussain, Badshah ast Hussain
Deen ast Hussain, Deen Panaah ast Hussain
Sardad na-dad, dar-dast-e-Yazid
Haqqa ke benah La ilah ast Hussain
“Husain is king and king of kings,
Religion and religion’s shield;
He gave his head, but not his hand
In homage to the harsh Yazid:
In truth, he is saviour of the Muslim creed.”
(Sufi Saint Khwaja Muinuddin Chishti, Ajmer)
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Hence vain deluding joys!
The brood of folly without father bred
The little you bested,
Or fill the fixed mind with all your toys!
(Milton)
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Pleasure is frail like a dewdrop:
While it laughs it dies;
But sorrow is strong and abiding,
Let sorrowful love wake in thy eyes.
Sir Rabindranath Tagore
Nobel Laureate
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