You’re tired and it’s all too much
so much you’re ready to give up
but giving up is easy so
she didn’t
She put him down upon the ground
and went to run between the mounts
Her feet were calloused but her plan
was simple
She scanned
t h e d e s o l a t e h o r I z o n
not a soul nor caravan
yet she endured and on she ran
our mother
A woman strong, believing slave
how could she know a nation would
spring from the dry heels of her
crying babe
Relief will come, slow down a bit
and may it be that you will find
yourself saying zam zam or
drinking it
The Divine Prestige in TāHā
How far do I stray from all that's true
Just when will I discern
This brand of love I have for you
That everywhere I turn
I find the good and bad I do
And everything I learn
It brings me back to you, to you!
All brings me back to You!
On a recent overseas trip, I found myself browsing through the in-flight movie list. One film that caught my fancy was called The Prestige. It had a compelling cast and a synopsis that drew me in right away.
The Film
The opening scene of The Prestige features a magician’s assistant – a magician in his own right – demonstrating to a little girl the three parts of any magic act. You can look it up, but I’ll state it here as plainly as possible. The first part is called The Pledge. This is the subject matter of the act and really involves the magician presenting something material to the audience. The second part is called The Turn. This is a performance wherein the magician does something remarkable that generally shocks or intrigues the audience. The third part is called The Prestige. This is the twist that brings resolution but more importantly, delivers the wow factor of the entire act.
From there, the story unfolds. Two men in London, top career magicians of the late nineteenth century, become obsessed with outdoing each other. They were once colleagues. But a tragic on-stage accident kills the wife of one and drives a wedge between them, firing up a bitter rivalry that feeds the rest of the story. A teleportation trick by one of them during the second act ignites the beginning of the end.
The film exposes the ugly underbelly of performative magic and magicians – deception, duplicity, treachery, animal cruelty – all part of this heinous world. The characters grapple with their humanity or lack of it. The production is an excellent tragedy.
But what stood out for me in the story – and the characters executed this beautifully – was the high degree of intelligence possessed by this caliber of magicians.
Here is a short list of their attributes, which may read more like a tribute of sorts, but that is not the intent here.
- They have deep knowledge of their craft
- They are fiercely competitive and study their competition relentlessly
- They are alchemists and functional physicists
- They excel at sleight of hand
- They are agile, physically and mentally
- They are quick-thinking
- They are observant, very observant
- They are meticulous in their planning
- They are fearless, risk-takers
- They are obsessive with their craft and committed to improving it
- They are manipulative
- They are well informed and technologically savvy
- They possess stage presence
- They know how to read their audience
- They distract with skill, but are largely undistractable themselves
I enjoyed the movie and left it with that familiar guilty pleasure that made me wish I could get back the two hours I lost. But all in all, the film was impressive.
It was a month later that I really started to think about it.
Musa and the Magicians
An old tafsir session I attended at Darul Qasim College came alive from the recesses of my memory, some fifteen years ago. But the words and meanings of Shaykh Amin were still bouncing around in my head. Shaykh Amin’s expositions on Tawhīd (the Oneness of God) are equal parts insightful and exhausting. He doesn’t just give you words, he paints in scenarios, then ties it all neatly together into a relatable package of lived experiences. I paraphrase below from what I heard all those years ago, with regards to the magicians who challenged Musa.
“Don’t think these were just your regular magicians that you get today. These were the best of the best. Fir’awn sent delegations far and wide across his kingdom to hand pick the top magicians.”
When these men arrived in Egypt, the first thing they most likely did was figure out their competition. They would not have trusted their assistants to do this. They would have individually, or as a group, followed Musa around. They would have studied him and his interactions with people. They would have asked people about him. They may have even staged a run-in with him on the street to force a conversation. They would not have left any stone unturned to help build a mental graph of what this man was capable of, of what informed his thought processes. In the course of their investigations, they would have also learned of his mission and his message. They observed his staff, ever by his side.
Their mission had been spelled out for them – to deliver a performance that would outperform Musa. But note that the magicians had not themselves seen Musa and his staff in action. All they knew was what had been described to them.
They must have visited the field where the competition would be conducted. They may even have rigged it for themselves.
On the day of the feast, hordes of people gathered around Musa and the magicians. I looked up the verses from Surah TāHā. A popular translation of verses 65 through 70 follows.
V. 65 They said, “O Moses! Either you cast, or let us be the first to cast.”
This was their pledge – Musa’s staff versus their staffs and ropes. All simple objects that the audience could look at, hold, examine. This shows their level of preparedness. They had thought through all the possible scenarios and contrived a plan for each. They had a Plan B and maybe even a Plan C.
V. 66 Moses responded, “No, you go first.” And suddenly their ropes and staffs appeared to him—by their magic—to be slithering.
This was their turn. This is when their craft and skill was on full display. I also think their prestige, i.e. the wow factor, has been left to our imagination because Allah the Creator of all things including the abilities of magicians could not be concerned with drawing attention to their mundane preoccupations. But I can imagine the crowds watching the snakes of variegated colors, slithering about, and some of them possibly rising into the third dimension, and through sleight-of-hand and the practiced administration of certain chemicals, made the ends glow like serpentine eyes. I suppose what I am attempting to say here is that we must appreciate how thoroughly impressive the show of the magicians must have been, and how taken up the crowds and Fir’awn must have been by all of it. Keep in mind Fir’awn’s purpose in all of this – to show everyone that Musa’s “trick” was not really all that hard to conjure if the conjurers possessed the skills for it.
V.67 So Moses concealed fear within himself.
This is proof that their prestige was impressive to Musa as well. It must have been a formidable performance. But Musa was no magician and he was simply doing his Lord’s bidding. Based on his own knowledge of what his staff could do, he felt he had been challenged duly.
V. 68 We reassured ˹him˺, “Do not fear! It is certainly you who will prevail.
This sufficed for Musa. But the Divine prestige was yet to be revealed to the magicians.
V. 69 Cast what is in your right hand, and it will swallow up what they have made, for what they have made is no more than a magic trick. And magicians can never succeed wherever they go.
The Divine prestige is revealed. The turn is impressive but the prestige is stunning. The staffs and ropes that were cast by the magicians have been devoured by Musa’s serpent.
V. 70 So the magicians fell down in prostration, declaring, “We believe in the Lord of Aaron and Moses.”
This is remarkable. All those aforementioned attributes must be taken into account to fully appreciate the response of these men. Of all magicians in the lands, they were the creme de la creme. They knew magic. They knew the physics and the chemistry and the many cutting edge techniques and apparatuses in use in their industry. And even after allowing that which they may not have been privy to, they knew that what Musa had brought was above magic. They already had an idea of who Musa was. They had been prepared for what they were about to see – a staff turn into a serpent – but they weren’t ready for it to invade their senses and overwhelm them. But they were highly intelligent, and as is with Islam, a paradox was at play. It was their superior intelligence that brought them to recognize their own inferiority before a Divine being for they well knew Musa had never claimed divinity. He was a messenger.
And then, as if to honor these men, Allah serves another paradox. How can these men be given the higher stations of Jannah reserved for the shuhadā and the siddīqīn, the gritty confirmers of the Truth that Allah is, the Truth of His Oneness, of his Power. To that end, Allah allows the Pharaoh’s punishment to come to bear – a pair of their opposite extremities was amputated and they were crucified by the remaining limbs. They are bestowed with the tawfīq to choose submission and reject the stubborn disbelief of their liege, the Pharaoh. A grotesque end, a painful torment and debasement in this world becomes a means to beauty, serenity and exaltation in the eternal.
AsSalaamu ‘alaa Musa wa Haroon.
TāHā
Arabic was the magical currency of the Arabs. The Arabs of the Hejaz spoke a rich dialect. They composed verse with ease. Their sophisticated thought and language was a thing of legend. It was what they treasured the most. Their poets were the magicians of their time. And the pledge of every performance was the language of Arabic. The turn and prestige varied, always leaving the audience filled with admiration of what one of their brethren had just composed and recited.
We may attempt to draw a line from the story of Musa and the magicians to the incident in which the last Messenger Muhammad (Allah’s prayers and peace be upon him) recited Surah Al-Najm before an assembly of Quraysh. Surah Al-Najm was the Divine pledge. Their rapt attention was the turn. And the involuntary sujūd that every single member of the audience found himself in was the Divine prestige.
All who were present prostrated but one old man. But even he had to rub his forehead with dirt.
Allahumma Salli ‘ala Muhammad.
Muqsit
What did he just say there
this man sitting before us
like a brother we wish we had by our side every day
nudging us toward a little more good
shoving us away from the seductive edge we keep romancing
What did he just say there
With humor sparkling in his eyes
In a manner to implore us
to think!
Al-Qist
A brand of justice that is
just more
He asks us to consider two tales bearing out this qist:
A tale of the damned and a tale of the redeemed
truer than this moment we are in
Of the damned: we think of the tyrant
treading water in a sea that won’t give him floor
coming to terms with his crimes
finding himself a victim of his own tyranny that tore
him away from his true master
Then he casts his desperate eyes
heavenward and the storm of Divine truth
makes landfall upon his sorry senses
“I believe! I believe!”
He yells into a wave
that gives him no respite but for a cold and watery grave
Why no mercy
Because al-Qist
Think of Ammar and his mother Sumaiyyah
Think of Bilal under the whip of Umayyah
Think of Hanzalah and his widow
Think of Mus’ab with not enough to shroud his remains
Think of Yahya, pursued Yahya
Think of the magicians who traded their faith for crucifixion
And that’s a fact
Think of all that.
None of them could see or feel or taste
a morself of the ghayb - the unseen
Can this tyrant then play his pathetic
seeing-is-believing card
Would Al-Muqsit mock his believing servants
for a tyrant who amounted to waste
Of the redeemed: we think of Yunus
who missed checking one box from his sky-high list
of a nabi’s checkboxes
He leaves behind a people marked for destruction, without warning
Onto ferry, into whale
La ilaah illa anta subhanaka innee kuntu min al-dzalimeen
The Lord stalls his command on the rebellious nation
“Why, Lord?” ask the angels
Because al-Qist
Was that little checkbox a mere formality
Or did it hold in its execution a tidal wave of rahmah:
pure Divine love
Back goes Yunus ‘alayhisSalaam
Warning served
Well-deserved
They heed his call and become a noble people
Al-Qist:
Its platinous scales shine differently than the golden of al-Adl
The Baseer sees all
magnifying the smallest atom of virtue
and dissolving the largest mountain of vice
if His adl will embrace it
and His qist will allow it
Ya Muqsit!
Inspired by this post-tarawih talk by Shaykh Amin Kholwadia.
My Many Windows
I’m told that my wont to begin each line
of my verse with a capital letter is distracting.
I confess I do this
‘Bout every time
I build me a poem
Of meter and rhyme.
But my free verse flows free like a river,
flooding the plains with my thoughts, free
of distracting banks.
There is no sash on my pane, nor is there an apron
beneath the stool of my window. There's only glass with
nothing to hide.
Back to my formal verse, I try
To keep the sash and the apron
A nod to form and tradition so I
May honor the cup that I drink from.
As for distractions, I remember
my first job when a colleague informed me that
he would like to call me Jay because my real name was
just too hard to pronounce.
Some prefer to wag the dog and they will always have
my sympathies.
Cloudy
Look back to where you were
how you were
why you were
kneeling by that hospital bed
while the little life left in her
left her
No sir
It gets cloudy some days
the fog never lifts
on days you can’t tell
curses from gifts
Look back to what you were
a miserable khalid with a rhyme
more broken each time
you try to make it better I’m
the you I’m speaking to
piecing together meaning
from a storm of words that makes earfall
but never reaches heart
It’s here again
loss
growing on my beating rock
like a layer of moss
green, green
and alive
just like hope
in that everliving oneness
My soul gets all the life it needs through
one drop of blood from the pool
welled into the sandals of a man
mocked and knocked and shunned
but refusing brokenness
because he saw the One
hope as long as there is life
and life
as long as there is hope
More
About a year ago, Shaykh Amin had said, “You should think about it.”

He was referring to the word “more” from the Darul Qasim motto, “In the Quest for More Knowledge”.
So I did. And very quickly I plateaued with the usual platitudes: you are never done; you are just getting started; there is no finishing the quest for knowledge, and so on.
These were good, even beneficial. But they told me that if I wanted to do the Shaykh’s advice any justice, I would have to recurse into my thinking with the spirit of “more” and with faith in the idea that the deeper the quest, the more accessible creation becomes to the seeker.
With that in mind, my problem definition became: How should I think about it?
I tried to approach it homeopathically, examining the problem to see if it would offer up a solution from within itself. That opened a door. I realized that Shaykh Amin was trying to show us something. That in turn begged that I look at it. If you think about it, to think about something was really to look at it, albeit with the mind’s eye.
But I couldn’t just look at it in any way I wanted. No. I had to stand beside the man, at his vantage point, I had to look to where he pointed; I had to use the seeing aids he had employed and calibrated.
Said differently, I had to draw on Shaykh Amin’s own insights on the moreness of knowledge. And being an amateur I had to stay within my limited understanding of those insights. So I began. With the first man, Ādam ‘alayhisSalaam.
Ādam
He was taught the names of all things by Allah the Exalted. And his quest for knowledge began in the heavens. But what made his quest intense was that he and his spouse were the only ones from the human species who had to adjust to time and space as adults. The trauma of that change must have been telling. For Ādam and Hawwa ‘alayhimusSalaam, the primary reference for all things, behaviors, etiquette, everything, was heavenly. Their quest for more knowledge paved the way for humanity to live on this planet, to live out lives with slight semblances of their heavenly existence. Some of those lives would be destined for a full blown living experience in heaven. Others would have to make the most of this planet for just a taste of heaven, courtesy Ādam. ‘AlayhisSalaam.
Nūh
His life was over nine hundred years of a quest for more knowledge. A mountain of patience and perseverance, an architectural genius and a master of wood and nail, a botanical, zoological and ecological miracle of a man who understood coexistence like none other. And just as he reaches the peak of his knowledge acquisition, his Lord teaches him his greatest and most shattering life lesson: he sees his rebellious son washed away by a wave. ‘AlayhisSalaam.
Ibrahīm
This is the man who is known as the ummah of one, a nation all in himself. His quest for Divine unity brought him to supplicate Allah to show him how He created. He was instructed to capture a bird, chop it up, mix its remains into a mash, then divide it into four parts and distribute them far and wide across the mountain ranges in the cardinal directions and then finally, to call the bird to himself. I reckon that his journey in each direction must have been months long – these men had meaningful lives that bore fruit as they concurrently embarked upon their many quests. So who knows how many months or how many years later he returned to the very spot whence his supplication rang forth. And from there he looked in all directions and called out to the quadripartite avis. And it came to him. How it came together and how much of the coming-together he witnessed was his exclusive reward, as was the moments of ecstasy that he experienced as his mind and heart connected the inner meanings of what he had seen. And such were the quests of Ibrahīm. ‘AlayhisSalaam.
Mūsa
The oral tradition has it that when the staff of Mūsa was turned into a serpent, Mūsa’s flight was not out of fear but out of ‘adab for the might of Allah. So when Allah commanded him to pick up the serpent, it is reported that Mūsa thrust his hand into its jaws and it returned to him as his faithful staff. Such was the courage of Mūsa. So uncompromising his boldness and so feverish was his pursuit of knowledge that his time with Khidr was cut short by them. ‘AlayhisSalaam.
Isa
His quest for more burns yet and is destined to resume in this world when Allah deems it time for him to return. A sincere quest that will lead him, Isa ibn Maryam, to join the ummah of his brother Muhammad ibn Abdullah SallAllahu ‘alayhi wa Sallam. ‘AlayhimusSalaam.
Muhammad
Did not all prophetic intellect and curiosity culminate in the person of our Habīb Muhammad SallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam? So complete and never-ending is his quest that during the mi’rāj, his angel companion stopped at the farthest bounds of space marked by the Lote. How Jibrīl ‘alayhisSalaam must have said, “I cannot go any further.” How then the prophet in all his humility must have stopped his advance. How Jibrīl must then have said, “…but YOU can.” And how the beloved must have been whelmed with rahmah as he stepped forward to come closer to his Beloved. No other from the human species or any other species in all of creation has passed that bounding tree. And how, in that timeless and spaceless moment, everything changed in time and space, including the essence of change itself. All this so that Muhammad, the seal of the prophets, could progress in his quest for more knowledge. SallAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam.
I suppose what I am trying to say is: when the Shaykh asks you to think about it, you had better think about it.
Weed Cinquain
you’ve seen
how the light shows
every blade of grass grows
differently and to different lengths
of green

Salim Chida (1947 – 2024)

He was seventeen when he left home. He watched his father standing on the platform, waving sadly as the train rolled away. He would never see his father again.
He went on to endure two years of grueling training followed by year-long apprenticeships on seagoing vessels. His career at sea spanned a little over thirty years. During that time, he commanded vessels of varying size, from general cargo ships to 270-meter long bulk carriers with a 152,000 DWT. He sailed through the Suez Canal, the Panama Canal, the Bermuda Triangle. He weathered storms at sea. He survived freak waves off Richards Bay. He discharged cargo over three months at outer anchorage off the coast of Luanda in war-torn Angola. He commanded supply ships off the coast of Bombay rushing supplies to oil rigs during stormy weather. He fought off pirates in the Strait of Malacca. He once climbed up the main mast in bad weather to change a lightbulb while his electrical officer and Boatswain watched from the deck as the swell caused the ship to corkscrew until the mast almost touched the giant waves. He performed life-saving surgery on one of his mates before rushing him to the nearest port for medical treatment. He oversaw a rescue mission for a suicidal officer who jumped into the Pacific off the coast of Hawaii. He navigated by the sun, the stars and charts when onboard navigation equipment failed in the Arabian Sea. He weathered a near mutiny in Brazil as brazen ship-owners delayed the payment of salaries to a crew of forty. He joined his crew in prayer on the main deck when nothing else could be done as they found themselves in the middle of a strengthening hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico. He escorted many a stowaway to safety and silenced officers who recommended tossing them overboard. He took a corrupt Chinese hiring agency to court in the port of Yanbu that helped dozens of expatriate day laborers get back their passports and return home. He oversaw sea burials.
In 1998, he gave it all up and moved to Iowa to be with his wife and son. She died a year later from Acute Myelogenous Leukemia. That broke him.
He drove a school bus and fought to be assigned to special ed. students. He said they were the best. He couldn’t stand being around junior high kids.
He drove a school bus until the doctors said his heart wouldn’t allow it. Then he spent more time in the garden. He did some Uber. Once he got a call from a Jehovah’s Witness priest who had a follow-up question about something they discussed during a ride. Another time, a young lady called him to thank him for picking her up in an inebriated state from a bar and for lecturing her all the way to her home about how her parents would be disappointed in her.
Then he gave up Uber. He spent more time in the garden.
On the 26th of August 2024, it took him almost twelve minutes to walk from the curb to the first rank at the mosque, typically a one-minute walk. But he still managed to get both cycles of the pre-dawn prayer. He died later that day.
* * *
The next day, I was swiping through his whatsapp messages and returning calls. One message caught my attention, from a name I did not recognize. The chat transcript showed several messages. She introduced herself and wanted to talk. She paid her condolences. She said her own father worked as Second Mate with my father on a general cargo vessel. She said she had met my father on board a ship. She was seven at the time. She remembered how kind he had been to her. She came to think of him as a dear uncle.
She tracked him down four years ago. He told her that he had a copy of the Quran that her father had gifted to him. It had handwritten notes from her father in the margins. He sent her pictures of it. She kept in touch after that.
I thanked her and said we would visit her if we ever had the chance. Then she said she needed a favor. “Anything,” I said, expecting her to ask for the copy to be shipped to her, which I would have been happy to do. Instead, she said, “Now that your Dad is gone, would you continue to read from it?”
I said I would.
On My Dear Brother Omar’s Recent Visit to Al-Quds
I wanted to surprise my family
So up and to Jerusalem I went
I touched down when the soldiers came for me
It seemed as if the questions wouldn’t end
They didn’t Every checkpoint was the same
Until I reached the room where I would stay
I rested first then went in Allah’s name
To Masjid Al-Aqsa in time to pray
Salaam in every corner of that space
Is this the spot my nabi was Imam
To lead a congregation cast in grace
Unmatched from its takbir to its salaam
The love I found on faces there eclipsed
Their grief that never passed through grateful lips
As It Is
Heed advice that tempers you khalid
So you see things for what they are
Just like that sweet prophetic prayer
That steels the heart and stills the air