Khalid Mukhtar

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

Khalid Mukhtar

Companion

· ·

My load is heavy, let me rest
My aching self a bit,
But only for a moment lest
I tarry where I sit.

I know I’ll slip along the way,
And suffer every plight
As I walk in the scorching day
And in the dark of night.

I may not bear the strength to rise
Above my many pains,
For obligation comes to me
In many different strains.

But come now, take my weary hand
Consolingly in yours,
So I may see you understand
What all the world ignores.

And in return, I promise you
With all my heart and mind
A constant love, and every peace
My faithful hand may find.

I pray to Him upon His Throne
That shades all Will Divine,
That I forevermore be yours,
And you, forever mine.

Lil One, Don’t Break Your Fast

· ·

I wrote a little something to encourage my children to fast this Ramadan. Sixteen hours is a looooong time. 

Come on, lil’ one, don’t break your fast,
The sun will set upon us, soon
All thirst and hunger will have passed,
And you’ll set out to find the moon;

‘Cept you won’t see it every day,
Because the moon and earth and sun
Are steadfast in their patient play;
And patience plays with anyone.

If you pick up a tasty treat
And almost put it in your mouth,
Stand frozen as you point your feet,
The left one north, the right one south.

Don’t take that glass of water to
Your parched and thirsty, fasting lips.
Pretend your left big toe is you,
And let it have a couple sips.

Blah blah buzz buzz ha ha hee hee.
Did you know saum means silence too?
Make like a giant, sprawling tree,
And sway your hands as branches do.

If all this makes you shake your head,
And crave a more rewarding chore,
Then to your blessed path instead;
You’re not so little anymore.

The Golden Switch

· ·

I wrote this poem to welcome the wife of my cousin Zubair into our family. Thanks to Abi Mustafa for bringing this poem to life with a moving recitation at the wedding reception yesterday. 
There are footnotes at the end.

Best Wishes to Zubair and Rida on their wedding.

“Unmoor!” It’s time, the whistle blows,

The weather’s bright and fair,
As you begin your voyage on
The Morning Star Zubair.

That’s right, your man is Master of
This vessel wide and long,
She carries all you need within
Her golden hatches strong.

The crew is sharp, the first mate walks
The bridge with eagle eye,
While down below the engineers
Keep engines humming high;

A dozen sailors swab the decks,
The silver taffrails, shine,
While stewards fill your goblets with
Non-alcoholic wine.

Ah! How your taste buds will delight
When foods exotic play
Upon them notes so magical
From Bombay to Marseilles.

And each day as the sun so grand
Sets on the sparkling sea,
Like Jack and Rose, you and your man
Glide in serenity.

And so you sail for days and days
Without a worry till
The seas begin to sparkle less,
The food tastes blander still.

And that is when the tide does turn,
And waves frightfully vie
To splash upon the shiny decks,
While clouds assemble high.

The hull begins to shudder free,
The crew tries hard to mend
The damage, but the boatswain’s luck
Is on a downward trend.

Disease and hardship wrack the crew,
The engines fail to fire,
The first mate tries in vain to steer
Despite the ocean’s ire.

You run to stand beside your man
As he surveys the scene:
His ailing crew, his vessel strained,
And all that’s in between.

You turn to look into his eyes
That show no sign of fear,
And sense a peaceful moment when
He nods with hope sincere,

Then suddenly, he takes your hand,
And to the bridge makes haste,
To find his first mate ‘neath the wheel
Which once his hand had graced.

He presses on with you, Rida,
Still keeping by his side,
And stops before a cabinet
Of tungsten and carbide.

A golden switch sits well encased
In glass so clean and clear,
With shiny letters that proclaim
Its role in times of fear.

*******************************
Pause for effect, mood changes to mild comic irony
*******************************

“Mummy Hona” 1, you read the words
A bit questioningly;
Zubair smiles back as if to say:
“My darling, you shall see.”

With one hand holding yours, he grips
The lever with the other,
And pulls down on that golden switch
To beckon to his mother.

The vessel starts to shudder now,
Its ribs moan shallow, and
The Master and his lovely bride
Look out from where they stand.

A rumble low accompanies
The sight before your eyes,
A golden hatch slides open to
Reveal a golden prize.

“Salaam alaykum” everywhere,
“Salaam” that fills the sea;
And thus emerges from the hatch
Zubair’s good family,

His mother leads them all as they
Proclaim the greeting high,
Her hands do bear a tray of her
Best anday ki mithai 2.

And even as she draws up close
And holds you in embrace,
The family of good Zubair
Sets off to work a pace

Of restoration everywhere;
Jenan assumes command,
Her father in the engine room,
With wrench and more in hand.

Ali gets on the radio
That Tariq works with speed,
While Zohra stirs a blend of Bel-
Ladonna and seaweed

Which Nadiah dispenses to
The sailors, some of whom
She carefully helps get into
The operating room.

Where Saqib and his father work
To render every care
And get those sailors up to run
The Morning Star Zubair.

Samina Chachi oversees
The scrubbing of the decks
And brings those sailors to their knees
With her repeated checks.

Tahseen restores the cabins, makes
Them cozy, warm and trim;
Maryam, Iman and Zaynab sing
A Dawud Wharnsby hymn.

And Salim Uncle at the helm,
To get her back on course,
Amin at radar, Sulayman
On charts; oh what a force!

And all of this is possible
As Javed babysits
Noor, Ibrahim, and Mustafa
With toilet humor hits.

And then, Rida, you look around,
And all over you see
A fleet of submarines with the
Remaining family;

All standing by and waiting for
A sign they can’t ignore:
Mohajir, Chida, Mehkri,
Ghias, Papa and more.

The vessel sets to float anew,
In even better form:
A crew and craft to weather yet
Another crazy storm.

The kitchen and the galleys burst
Biryani, halwa and
A host of other dishes of
The grand Navaitha 3 brand.

*******************************
Pause for effect, return to reality
*******************************

And as niwaalas4 supersized
Of meetha5 fill your mouth,

*******************************
Pause 3 seconds
*******************************

You wake up from this dream, Rida,
A little farther south.

*******************************
Pause 3 seconds
*******************************

…In Frankfort.

*******************************
Pause for effect, concluding verses
*******************************
There’s no condition, Rida, and
There is no moment which
You need await to pull down on
That “Mummy Hona” switch.

But this is all you’ll ever need
On any given day:
Love God, and love the one He loves,
(SalAllahu ‘alayhi wa Sallam)
And you’ll be on your way.

*******************************
Pause for effect
*******************************

Welcome to the Morning Star Zubair.

*******************************
Pause for effect, read slowly.
*******************************

Welcome to… our family.

———————————————————————————–

Footnotes

1 I want my Mommy
2 A family specialty
3 The name given to our larger family
4 Mouthfuls
5 sweets

The Fewston Reservoirs

· ·

I am in beautiful Leeds visiting with my brother, and enjoying the English countryside. Today, I accompanied my brother and my lovely nieces to The Fewston Reservoirs. We each got an ice cream cone/bar and hiked through the trails. I can’t explain how beautiful this place is. I was compelled to write a little something about it all.

The swirling, moisture canopies
That speckle blue vanilla skies,
The honeysuckle-scented breeze
That, definition, well defies,

The bashful bluebells bowing low
Along the chocolate marshy sands
Where Otley and her sisters flow
To flush these lush West Yorkshire lands.

I’ll miss the Fewston Reservoirs
For more than what I’ve said above,
They soak my plains of memoirs
With drops of who and what I love.

(The ‘vanilla’ and ‘chocolate’ references were clearly a product of the quality ice cream we consumed on the hike 🙂

Maryam Says You Can Do It, Zaynab

· ·

As you lay on your belly and wonder
If you can just crawl to the end
Of the carpet so you can reach under
What covers your toy ducky friend,

Maryam says you can do it, Zaynab,
You can do it Zaynab, yes you can,
Just the way you did it the other day,
Got to finish this thing you began.

When you try hard to reach for the light switch
Standing tall on your tippy toes,
But it seems that it’s always an inch away
No matter how high your hand goes,

Maryam says you can do it, Zaynab,
You can do it Zaynab, yes you can,
Just the way you did it the other day,
Got to finish this thing you began.

As you sit back for fun with Dick and Jane,
Touch the letters with your fingertips,
Trying hard to string them up just to bring
Forth a word with your weary lips.

Maryam says you can do it, Zaynab,
You can do it Zaynab, yes you can,
Just the way you did it the other day,
Got to finish this thing you began.

When you try out your bike with no trainers,
And you zigzag so fearfully,
‘Cuz you can’t bear the thought of the pavement
Kissing you in the head or the knee.

Maryam says you can do it, Zaynab,
You can do it Zaynab, yes you can,
Just the way you did it the other day,
Got to finish this thing you began.

And Maryam, you’re right every time, now
You too may need Zaynab some day
Just to stand by your side helping you how
You help her to get on her way.

Zaynab says you can do it, Maryam,
You can do it Maryam, yes you can,
Just the way you did it the other day,

Got to finish this thing you began.

Got to finish this thing we began.

Familiar Friend

· ·

I saw a man the other day,
Somewhere in Bolingbrook,
Who curiously sent my way
A long and knowing look.

And I in turn stared back at him,
For surely I did see,
Deep in his eye, a trace of dim
Familiarity.

He looked away, a bit incensed
By my alacrity,
So I broke off my stare, but sensed
His gaze return to me.

We nursed this blend of sweet and sour
As we checked out our goods,
Before we left to make for our
Respective neighborhoods.

Of all the glimpses we did plot
So surreptitiously,
I won’t forget that one I caught
Of him catch one of me.

I strained to think where we had met;
The library? The bank?
The traffic signal pause beset
By stares that weren’t that blank?

I could have, and I should have asked,
But then it was too late
To see the face of chance unmasked
By helping hands of fate.

Or could it be that we have shared
A word that binds us both,
When in the Garden we declared
That sempiternal oath?

It is my hope that we will meet
In time or timeless end;
Until then, mine is patience sweet.
Farewell, familiar friend.

Children of the Year

· ·

How Winter loved his sister, Spring,
Though all that he did well preserve,
(Yes, each and every little thing)
She meddled in without reserve;
But then her sweet and cheery smile
Would melt him in a little while.

Ah! Lovely Spring, a tender heart,
Enlivened all with just her touch,
And wept when Winter did depart,
For he indulged her very much;
Yet how she glowed so bright with glee
When Summer came for company

Because she was her favorite one;
They treasured all the time they spent,
For all that was by Spring begun,
Did Summer sweetly complement,
Until the farewell grackle call
Would welcome in capricious Fall.

Well, Autumn was his proper name,
For Summer leaves where Autumn goes
To huff at those who shun his game,
And shower gifts on whom he chose,
Till Winter comes to calm him down,
And wait for Spring’s return to town.

I Hope You Like Flowers

· ·

I was at the Highland Park Poetry Open Mic last Friday, and got to participate in my first on-the-spot poetry challenge. The theme was Gifts. I managed the below in the eight minutes I had.

It irks me when I
Can’t figure out why
I can’t think of what sort
Of present to buy.

I know who its for,
And what makes her smile,
Yet this silly task
Is taking a while.

Oh well, I won’t sweat it,
I’ll settle for flowers;
So much for my ‘riginal
Thoughts all these hours.

And if she despises
My gift to her, I’ll
Utter these words with
A sincere smile:

And then I ran dry. I was stuck, stuck, STUCK! When Jennifer Dotson called my name, I walked up and recited it, and generated some laughter at my dangling ending. And NOW, three days later, I decided to finish with this…

“I fear to buy
What dazzles the eye
Lest it become to you
Much dearer than I;

But flowers shall wilt
Till they are a mess,
And spare you the guilt
Of loving me less.”

… just had to finish what I started.

The Ever Rising Tide

· ·

Your anger is an ocean wave
You cannot leave to rise,
For once arisen must it brave
A path to its demise:

To slowly draw into its breast
Each vessel in its wake,
Then shatter all upon its crest
Before the downward break;

Or swell in silent solitude,
Across the fickle seas
To crash upon your shores and quench
Your grove of poison trees.

So slay no spirit, spare your heart,
And know the ocean wide,
That you may breathe the winds that quell
The ever rising tide.