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Khalid Mukhtar

Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you

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Archives for February 2024

Change of Address

Khalid Mukhtar · February 21, 2024 · Leave a Comment

One of the greatest signs of Allah’s lordliness is to watch his rahmah unfold upon his unassuming slave, most notably in how the man welcomes death. 

All his life this man lives simply. He is no scholar. He is no philosopher. He can barely articulate his thoughts.

Every time he disagrees with someone around him, he finds himself corrected by a dozen other voices. Yet, he gifts the last word to anyone who is in conversation with him. He does this with kindness, even gratitude. 

Every time. So much so that you might think him a nobody. What you may miss is that he is very good at being that.

Here now, in his final moments, so efficient is his economy with words, so powerful his choice in them, so frequent his recitation of the only word that matters, and so thorough his mending of fences with all his kin, that a lifetime of scholarship and pontification may be sacrificed for the nūr that illuminates his face. 

Much intellect shines now through the humor in his eyes. His eagerness to meet his Lord is tangible, electric, in the air, betrayed only by his brow dancing ever so slightly in response to an oft raised index finger.

If we could see a man’s true worth as he dies
we can begin to make sense of his life
because what he has truly accomplished
is now before our eyes

What a man!

Sweet Taxes

Khalid Mukhtar · February 15, 2024 · Leave a Comment

It's chilly, must be time to pay my taxes
To fund the schools to do their saintly deeds
Get roads repaired and trains back on their tracks: Is
The park in need of shears to trim the weeds
Help libraries build wings so patrons fly
And help the good police have stronger knees
Give judges seats to let them ponder why
That billionaire needs help to crush his lease
I'm good with all this goodness every year
Though half the good I pay for I don't use
But that should never bother me my dear
And here's three dollars so the man don't lose
    The shredded children dangling from a pole
    Less hideous than our collective soul

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