Friday, 9 March 2012

Milad un-Nabi, a Celebration of the Prophet Muhammad's Life.

Milad un-Nabi, a Celebration of the Prophet’s Life. (SAW)
(a blog that leads into a poem)

Last month I was invited to a Milad celebration, and whilst they recited from first part of the Barzanjee I read it just a little.

Afterwards, I could not help but speak my mind. The wrong footedness of it all irked me, way more than some.
For, not only did I notice that the Barzanjee had got it wrong, but that even at one time dishonoured the one it sought to honour.

But that the celebration did no justice to the one it claimed to praise,
forgot his achievements and his faith.

That he was chosen,
and he did not shirk God's command.
That when warned of hardship's persistence,
kept faith with  a quiet insistence.

He, who was offered the sun and the moon,
knew not the greatness which lay in store.
Whom God chose for blessed Miraj,
And gifted with five daily Salat.

He who exemplified goodness in every respect,
Did not fail his trust, even when he wasn't there.
When they sought to kill him by a poisoned plot,
They unfurled the cloth and gaped in shock.

For they forced him by their inequity from the ancient City, he loved.
Refuge he found in a people of maternal patronage.
There forged a community from their splintered city.
That forged a Nation that would change the course of history.

Quraysh would not let up,
three battles they fought.
They wished to kill him outright,
so they gathered their hosts.

The whole of Arabia laid siege.
At that time of strife and hunger,
whilst some of the believers thought,
"What has God in store for us?"

In that time three promises were struck.
Three horizons were lit up.
A storm coursed through,
And the hosts were vanquished.

The Quraysh were subdued,
Medina was safe.
"How difficult could it be to kill just one man?"
And the Prophets heart ventured homeward.

Mecca, Mecca, Mecca.
The hallowed sanctuary.
That houses bayt ul atiq.
The place of Ibrahim and Ismail.

In a dream he saw the honour of shaven heads.
And resolved to make the lesser of twain,
that would in favour turn the eyes
 of Arabia,
to the honoured one.

Who honoured the sacred places and rites.
At Hudabiyyah his greatest triumph lay in store,
For in that contradictory moment his sincerity would shine through.
The unlettered Prophet would show himself to be true, forever true.

And because of that the doors of Arabia swung wide,
Persian and Rome noticed a turning of the tide.
A people unlooked for, stirred in their South.
Some trembled, some laughed before the emissaries of God.

All felt his presence far and wide,
But if they but ventured to Medina they would find,
A man who would not suffer any to stand for him,
A Messenger of God, who cared deeply for his people.

Quraysh betrayed their trust,
Broke armistice, and knew that their time had come.
He marched on Mecca and took it peacefully.
Riding on Qaswa, with bowed head did he enter.

The sacred city,
And demolished all three sixty.
There idolatry fled,
and taqwa was bred.

His generosity knew no bounds,
He restored and confirmed ancient privilege,
He forgave those who sought forgiveness,
No matter how many atrocities afore time they had purchased.

And he borrowed,
Where a king would have taken as his own.
Thence to the third of the three,
Thaqif of Taif.

At the battle of Hunayn,
Where arrows in droves did fly,
 None could scathe,
And he called all the hosts to bear witness.

Whilst his army fled,
He stood,
And called them back one by one.

Whilst Thaqif looked on,
Unable to fathom,
That the Messenger of God had come.
That none could touch him until his time was done.

Even whilst they were but a stone’s throw away,
And he stood there on the dividing line.
They were struck dumb and could not divine,
That it was that their time had come.

At the farewell Pilgrimmage,
Did he teach us the rites.
And there it was that he espoused the rights,
That men hold over men.

That none, not even an Arab,
Could claim superiority,
That each should be governed by a universality,
Of spirit

That dictated,
An open society of a type, unprecedented.
Where all men are free by virtue of the true religion.

Peace reigned in Arabia.
But not for long.
For Rome feared the Arabian throng,
And their illustrious armies threatened from the North.

In that precarious moment,
The Lord of all extended an invitation,
And the one most beloved of Him,
chose to accept it.
And that above all shows the truth of his faith.

Because he loved his people dearly,
And did not wish that what he brought,
To be but a flutter on the echoes of time.
And his faith proved true, won through.

For, the greatest proof of God is Muhammad,
And the greatest proof of Muhammad is his life.
To celebrate it is to celebrate him, and to celebrate him is to do justice to God's ultimate goodness.

the END
Indeed ALL Glory and Praise belongs to ALLAH alone, and I bear witness that Muhammad (saw) has indeed fulfilled his trust and delivered the message in truth.
O ALLAH, the most gracious, the abundant giver, reward Muhammad (saw) with the most excellent of rewards for never would we have believed but that You sent him to teach us the way. Ameen.
As I explained in the last stanza, the best way to celebrate Muhammad (saw) is to recall his achievement and his wonderful life. For never was there such a life that changed the whole course of history other than his.

I have taken artistic licence in the poem, and many of the verses will only resonate with the people who have read the biography of Muhammad (saw). I have not touched on the many proofs of his prophethood, which are proofs from an historico-analytic formulae and not with reference to that which he brought (the holy Qur’an).

Probably the greatest of this is his success in transforming a tribal- warrior nation.
And this a people who at several points in his life tried unsuccessfully to kill him, mock him, insult him, deride and even ignore him. Anyone who has any intelligence would realise that with him being off them, then they would have been the best to deal with him. But they could not.

For thirteen years of his mission he was persecuted in Mecca and his followers were killed, and for 10 years he fought to keep his political community safe first from Quraysh and the Arabs and then Rome. And yet he passed from us being blessed with happiness, and this is but a single of his many great achievements.

As the greek sage Solon said once, fortunate is he who dies happy.

I sincerely hope that whoever reads this taking instruction from it will eventually read the biography of an outstanding life.

Mohamed Shafi B.