Mir Babar Ali Anees

(1803 - 1874 / Faizabad, Uttar Pradesh, India)

Oh Fasting Muslims, These Are The Days Of Grief - Poem by Mir Babar Ali Anees

Oh fasting Muslims, these are the days of grief
On Syeds have fallen a grave calamity
We mourn the loss of our Leader, our first Imam
The Lion of God, now our company leaves

While in prayer your Imam was attacked today
The wretched blade struck as He bowed and prayed

During the month of Ramadan, in the house of God
On this auspicious night, at the crack of dawn
As the Lion of God bowed before His God
The enemy struck at His head, no mercy shown

Blood poured from the wound onto His face
And in prostration He whispered “God is Great”

Oh true of faith, your Leader is slain
The light of Islam, now wounded lays
The gash is deep, fatal the wound
From the nape to His forehead the sword has slashed

Mohammed and Zehra are bare-headed in grief
His children are orphaned, His followers weep

In such desolate times, this tragedy befell
Far from Medina, few friends here dwell
Sajjad merely four or five years old
A desire to see him grow up, by death quelled

His own children young, to be orphans soon
The Noble Abbas is only nine years old

Historians say that when Ali was slain
From the minaret Gabriel let out a wail
Zainab and Kulsoom threw their wraps on the ground
And called out to their Brothers in panic and pain

“Did you hear Oh Brother’s Gabriel’s cry?”
“The Imam has been murdered” the Brothers replied

Saying this, toward the Mosque They fled
And found the Savior wounded, soaked in blood
Wiping the blood from His face, They cried out in pain
“Who attacked the Imam, the Prophet’s true heir?”

“Who made the Prophet today weep in His grave?
Who orphaned us, assailed You in this state?”

For prayer, into the Mosque, the people then came
And toward Hasan, Ali turned and thus said
“You lead them in prayer my dearest Son
While I pray as I lie, in my injured state”

“But do tie a bandage over my wound
Wrap something around my head, pray soon”

With a heavy heart, Hasan dressed the wound
“Tighter dear Hasan” Ali said to His Son
Wrapping the dressing tighter around His Father’s head
Hasan cried “Dear Father, how is the pain?”

“How do You feel dear Father, Oh Lion of God?
Ali held His head and said “My head still throbs”

Having led the people in their morning prayer
Hasan prayed for Ali, sitting by near
At that moment a lady walked in and cried
“Zainab has sent a message you all must hear”

“She says that if her Father doesn’t come home soon
Then bare-headed into the Mosque she will come”

Ali said “In grief, Zainab speaks thus
“Pray tell her this is Koofa not Karbala, you must
I am neither helpless nor surrounded by armies galore
We’re have supporters, we are in their midst”

“Bare headed she need not leave her home yet
That will happen when Husain will be beheaded instead”

Hearing Ali’s words, His followers shed tears
Ali’s sons made a stretcher to carry Their Father dear
Laying Ali within, They carried Him home
Hasan leading the way, Husain following near

Laying in the stretcher, blood dripping from His wounds
Thus Ali was carried back to His home

When she heard them coming, Zainab cried out in grief
Inconsolable she ran out into the street
Yet another time she would leave her home thus
In Karbala, when Ali Akber would be killed

Covering their eyes strangers turned away
Zainab hugged her Father sobbing her prayers

The people of the house gathered around Ali
They surrounded Him, in their eyes a plea
Ummul Baneen was distraught at the sight
She called for Abbas, the young son of Ali

“Pray call a healer for your Father my son
Find someone who can heal the damage done”

Seeing his mother’s anguish, Abbas cried
He hugged her close, ready to die
And said “Dear mother, I’ve often heard
A life can be saved by forfeiting another life”

“Come take me to my Father, this is a way to heal
He will be saved, and you will be at peace”

Hearing this Ummul Baneen wiped her tears
She hugged Abbas amidst her pain and fears
And said “You’re right, you must die in His stead”
Then she addressed the people standing by near

“Make way Oh people, let me pass
I’m here to sacrifice my dear Abbas”

Hearing this Ali said “You know not what you do
Is the eminence of Abbas not disclosed to you?
He is the son of Fatima, not yours dear wife
He’s Husain’s sword and shield and guardian too”

“Ask Zehra what status Abbas holds
In Karbala he will die for Shabbeer’s cause”

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 19, 2012

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