Rasullullah (s.a.w) beautiful ..Names

Astaghfirallah… Bismillahi Tawakkaltu al-Allah wala haula wa la quata illa billah.---And It is Only Allah Who grants success. May Allah Exalt the mention of His slave and Messenger Muhammad, and render him, his household and companion safe from Evil.

Monday, November 1, 2010


It is quite necessary to arrange ones thoughts before writing an article, just the way the papers of a book are arranged before it is compiled, otherwise you risk putting the reader in a state of utter confusion. However, so many things have happened and are happening in such a chaotic manner, that the wind has blown away the papers, the thoughts are scattered hither and thither, and I am forced to remain stranded, like a lost sheep away from the herd, waiting for a wolf to attack, from a place I least expect.

We were a nice amount of people when we started. There was such energy and enthusiasm and work. Bringing victory to the Deen was all we talked about, that was all what plagued us. We were storming every where and every thing, and our teacher worried that we would get our selves in trouble, and we would laugh about it. Nothing or no one could become an obstacle enough to stop our work...huh... at least, so we had thought.

Yet something, that we did not expect crept slowly, seeping deep and broke through. At first, we separated... forced to, and then the energies, slowly started to fade, we were gradually breaking down, without even realizing it, until one key figure raised the bag to leave... again, forced to. I finally realized that we were no longer the same bunch we were, we had changed, time had changed us, and strange how it did.

I remember the quote from a speech of Sheikh Abdullah Azzam May Allah have mercy on him, that days pass upon us, and our burdens increase, our children increase and wealth increases and we keep consoling ourselves that after the relief of one of these we will leave... and then death dawns, and we leave with the hope...

How true to the very alphabet!!!

I miss the time and the nights spent sleepless for a noble cause, to raise the word of Allah high, and what cause can be greater. I miss it when mom scolded and dad fired... we were lousy to the world, dedicated to something greater, something that was worthless in the balance of the world, but meant everything to us

Jihad in the way of Allah, was a dream that I was sure will come true for me. Now as I sit typing this, I am not so sure as I used to be. "Allah will not waste us" I used to say with such confidence that others used to smile at its reality, yet now my conviction is not that great. I can not say it. We have wasted ourselves, how then can I guarantee that Allah will not waste me, worthless as I have become to myself, what worth can I expect Allah to have of me.

The passion is slowly being buried in the depths of time, and I stand and watch as I stood and watched for years. They keep slamming one insult after the other in our faces, they keep lashing our backs with one chain after the other and we stand and watch, promising them in words, 'I will avenge'. And they laugh. We cry. And they laugh again.

I know what they laugh at. They laugh at the youth who have energy but have families stopping them,. They laugh at fathers willing to sacrifice who have wives and children stopping them. They laugh at women of war who have husbands stopping them. They laugh at all of us cancelling each other out and leaving no one to stop them from laughing at our wounds. So they laugh and we cry as our fathers and mothers did and those before them did.

I do not want to cry, I want to laugh, why cant we all laugh... why cant we be on the battlefields laughing at their slaughtered bodies, declaring that Allah is the greatest...

We watch the videos of the Mujahideen, as though they are from some other planet, our hearts reaching out, our bodies numb, yes... this is a place and a people that truly exist, and we are the scum of the ocean...

The morning she left, I was crying again. We made our firm handshake. Perhaps gradually our numbers would reduce to nothing, and the passion would die. Time again, would wear us out, and I would hate myself, like earlier, I hated every other person who was dormant towards his Ummah. However, I know the caravan will move forward

It will move regardless of me, or any other person reluctant and heavy...

O Allah hasten us to the caravan, hasten us

Written By Umm Saad Al Khorasaniyah - Presented By Dar Al Murabiteen Publications

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