tu me manquera

“The Brainy Express”she exclaimed and I laughed as I heard my title that the students of my outgoing class awarded me. Lavished with love and memories, there is no match to these students in my timeline, who shall soon leave the school behind graduating towards their aimed future accomplishments.

The current batch of students hold the most special place in my heart for the circumstances they were awarded to me in, makes this entire experience of my teaching career a very special one. I vividly remember accepting them as a bunch of rowdy kids who don’t let a teacher stand in the class, let alone teach them. I was told grand fables which could have amounted to a written book if I had begun to write them! However I am glad I didn’t as three years from then, I would have had nothing to endorse from it, today.

I remember my first few days with them. Initially I went confused in their class cause of the prior knowledge I held but gradually I understood- how misunderstood they are! I tried my best to understand them, their needs, their conflicts and most importantly to hear them out and let it be known to them that, “I am listening. “ I remember once they blamed one of their mates of a misdeed and how I instead of being upset shared with them a lesson of unity. Soon we became friends. Friends of a special kind. Those that we see every day, meet every day and those that we take for granted for we think and feel they are inseparable to us.

Today I bid farewell to the most mature, sensitive and focused set of students. Not only they are one united lot but have grown to be uniquely smart. Each one has his/her own attribute to offer, an artist, a writer, a reader, a speaker, a cricketer, a gymnast, a calligraphist, a current affairs specialist and the list goes on and on… each one has found his/her calling and refined their skills in their opted specializations.

Today in these days of farewell, I watch them transfixed as the three years pass by my vision and seem like a jiffy. I already feel the withdrawal syndrome getting me, as I crib and cry about this separation which I never think about before investing myself fully in my kids. I love them with such finality that it seems as if we are bound forever but each time reality has bit me, I have never learnt…

Each name of this dear batch of 2017 rings a bell in my heart. I have fondly called them always, “My Miracle Children” as they truly were and shall remain to be.

Pensive today I sit in reverie, rekindling this flame of memories I have had with them, the laughter we shared and all the plans we made. The closed door discussions, the tears, the challenges we faced and yes of course-the anger:)

I’m sure a lot of smiles shall come my way, as I close this piece with this dedication to my class,
“Goodbyes are for those who only love with their eyes. Because for those who love with their heart and soul, there is no separation.” –Rumi

May you shine, May you prosper!
*(I can hear Abbas saying Amen!)

16th of Jamadal Ukhra 1438:

Of suns and lanterns,

the source to it’s recepient,

reflecting and radiating,

all light that we can see

Of the Duwaat Mutleqeeen

all lanterns and beams

You: the mishkaat of Anwar

radiated Imam Hakim’s sheen

You illuminated the Masjid

victorious against all odds

The revival of Anwar,

remains a miracle on record

No eye forgets,

the tale remains fresh

A chapter after another,

27 months it makes

The glory of dawat

remains fresh and blessed,

You rejuvenated and revived

ensured our souls to survive

The glow of Anwar:

glistens your name,

Each inscription:

cascades your memory …

Amate Syedna TUS,


My victorious little tiger :)

With shaking hands I put the camera on recording. Hazy in the beginning, yet I couldn’t manage to care about what I captured. The scene that lay in front of me compelled me to rid off all obstructions between me and him. It was a sight to see my tiger running, focused and deftly over taking an opponent after another. I was by now clear that I don’t have to focus on the camera as the excitement in me wasn’t helping me with the capture of the moments either… so I stared transfixed till I could hear myself chanting his name, ” Ali Asghar !!! ” which finally culminated into a “yayyyy you made it!!!”

It was worth it, every moment of the wait, the aching toes and back, that minute of your victory, it was worth it all! Like a master you stood, tall and strong, focused and victorious. May Allah bless you victory every step of your way, with every passing minute, always and forever… 

Your ever loving mother, 


Happy Birthday Maula RA! 

A beautiful lens help. They help us to see the world likewise. If our lens are blurry, we can’t expect to see things clearly, leave apart beautifully.  

WIth the dua and guidance of Aqa Maula TUS, we all possess beautiful lenses that are washed by the grief of Imam Husain SA. 

Hence there are certain framed images in our mind which brings immense joy and pleasure to us.

Such is today’s event captured, preserved and framed beautifully with the memory of the 52nd Dai Syedna Mohammad Burhanuddin RA.

Today with our clear lens and beautiful vision we see this day of His RA birth as a day blessed with happiness and joy. 

It gives us momineen another reason to rejoice, reminisce and balm ourselves in the memory of our Beloved Maula RA

Happy Birthday Maula RA! 

Your memories live young and fresh within us!

Amate Syedna TUS,


16th of Jamadil Ula 1438

These moments remain untrue

lifeless, pointless, aimless

no purity I find, no reason defined

I try in vain to find some peace

Those eyes are looking thirstily at me

Those smiles asking me to stay a little longer

I really can’t decide for it’s time to stay 

or for me to leave…

I try my best to understand this world

the twists and turns, the gamble and play

they bore me more with each passing day

I try to learn and unlearn it all

what is worth it, isn’t really worth at all

Moving in a circle over and over again

my body seems to weaken,  my soul in pain

The thought of You, and to see You there

where no time confines, no material defines

I stay in this reverie and forsee beyond time

When I will finally see You there,

leaving all burdens behind

Amate Syedna TUS,



Syedi Mazoon Saheb Husain Bhaisaheb Husamuddin passes away…

Frail, humble and full of gratitude are the few words that echo along as the memories of Syedi Mazoon saheb Husain Bhaisaheb Husamuddin float by. 

Born in Kaparwanj in the year 1338 on 26th Jamadil Ukhra, Syedi Saheb, brother of our beloved Maula RA passed away on the 11th of Jamadi ul Ula 1438. Mazoon saheb till he breathed his last performed khidmat of 3 Dais with utmost valour and vigour.

18th Zilhijjatil Haram 1414H. Aqa Burhanuddin Maula RA proclaimed him as Mukasir ud Dawat while Aqa Maula Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin TUS proclaimed him as Mazoon ud Dawat in the year 1435 on the same date i. e. 18th of Zilhajjit ul Haram. 

When Burhanuddin Maula RA proclaimed nass on Aali Qadr Maula TUS in Raudat Tahera he was the one who stood and escorted Mufaddal Maula TUS and performed talaqqi.

Disregarding his seniority and age, Syedi Saheb’s stance and humbleness radiated from each act of his. Completing a century of his lifetime, Syedi Saheb ‘s tafaadi to Maula TUS remained exemplary. The sajadaat of shuker that he offered in Hazrat Immamiyah Nooraniya would melt any heart.
 A reservoir of knowledge and wisdom, Syedi Saheb was acknowledged as a highly learned man.  Indeed it brings immense grief to momineen to bear the burden of a great loss to the Dawat e Hadya. 

May Allah grant forbearance to Aqa Maula TUS to bear this heavy loss along with all momineen residing in various corners of the world. Ameen 

Amate Syedna TUS,


16th Rabiul Akhar 1438H

​Mortality- a fact of life. Every living thing is subject to an end, this finality is termed for this world as death. However death has always been an intriguing phenomenon for mankind. Mankind in their research to attain immortality turned a page after another of research and development, yet-death remains to be an incontestable entity.
People come and go, the process however remains interminable. But it’s love which conquers all. Love never dies. The physical entity may erase but love shared doesn’t. It lingers on, passes on and it’s presence is felt in the beating hearts of those who shared it.
From moments of rejection and dejection, to mourning and acceptance, we have experienced a lifetime of longing and yearning for Maula RA. We have missed the physical presence, the sight of Him RA, the vision of Him RA, the voice that undoubtedly has an eternal resonance-yet we miss this wordly range.
But having said all that, it is love that’s eternal, the love that we feel beating inside our hearts. It breathes with every beat and breath. It multiplies, it flows, it nourishes and it flourishes within us. Such has been the love of Maula RA and our love for Him. Our beating hearts are a testimony to this supreme fact that Maula RA-lives.
Amate Syedna TUS,


Yet Again

​A countenance lovingly woven from moonbeams
Eyes to put diamonds to shame
A smile illuminating a thousand suns 
That was the Maula who gave us life, wealth and fame.

The world has lost all its delight
Dreams have forgotten to take flight 
Ambitions have lost sight
In thy absence.

In death I yearn to meet thee
And fall at your feet
Lay my heart which bleeds
And look up too see yet again
the moonbeams,
those diamonds and that unquenchable sun
In thy face.

And finally my withered heart will blossom yet again.

Amate Syedna TUS 

16th of Rabi ul Awwal 1438

In the deep folds of the heart; truth resides

Like the pearl in oyster’s shell; like the sheen of a diamond amongst a coal mine

Like the fresh break of dawn in the gloom of a dark night

No words to fancy, a fact none deny

Seek the truth, with the soul so pure 

Like the honey of the bees, the milk so white

Like the water from the sky, the soul of a child

No wonder on this kind, held by the divine

Truth and love, love and truth: the two might 

Like the invincible time, the oceans unconquerable 

Like life and death and the world we leave behind 

In all my truth, I have bled your love,

with the purity of soul, nothing held behind

True are these words, facts are they

Hope I must, I believe in that day

This wait my prayer, The longing my joy

In trance I lay, while your presence is real

Distance immaterial, I know as I say;

In the deep folds of the heart: truth resides…

Amate Syedna TUS,


A unique page in my diary…

“I have never, ever, in my life, been to or participated in a convocation, whether mine or anyone else’s…”,

… gripped, I hung on to each word, staring wide eyed to the lean, enigmatic figure before me, wearing the traditional striped green and golden susi robe of the IVS, showing off a white crisp kurta-shalwar gracefully beneath it. 

Two years back, I had stared skeptically at the gigantic book, hardly able to envision myself ever able to study it. Not much to my disappointment, ( as its natural for me to expect the unexpected from myself and that I don’t know whether benefits me or not) I had made the payment and brought home a challenge which actually was delusive.

“It seems like a telephone directory, the difference only that there are no spaces in between and hardly any relief in comprehension one could find.” My sister would retort with such disapproval that she would half convince me of my absurdity of a self imposed punishment due to a heinous crime! Neverthless her remarks gradually made me all the more adamant and  focus my attention to what the book read.

Much to everyone’s dismay who found me pathetic and suffering with it, I didn’t give in… and on the contrary got so gripped to it, that I read and re read many things, a number of times… (I wonder what expression my sister will give if I ever reveal that I had actually re read the book and many other parts a number of times!)

Issues in Pakistan’s Economy: A Political Perspective by S. Akbar Zaidi had become my life for at least three straight months. I had had the most scrumptious of the food, the most ordinary meals, a few nights of sleep, made it wet with the raindrops, put roses and daisies in it, highlighted with colours of yellow and orange and at times been emotional feeling helpless and at the same time hopeful of the affairs of my country. I practically honeymooned  with the book and even took it with me in my travel bag to Islamabad. Such was the affection I had developed out of the very ordinary motivation I had for passing my MA Exams in Economics this year.

Leaving the past solved papers aside and all the recommended quick fixtured syllabus prescribed to reach my destination, I found myself ironically in love with the journey itself, something which my challenging schedule would admonish me for! 

& then suddenly one day, much to my surprise, while studying, the name took all my attention: S. Akbar Zaidi. I Googled and found him an important man contributing lavishly to the political climate of the country. I would wonder of the kind of man he must be! Serious, painfully methodical and calculative… By the end of the third reading of the book, I could some how understand the pattern of his thoughts. I would understand where he would criticise something and at times even predict the current situation, for the base of my thoughts on Pakistan’s economy, only he had helped me develop through his writing. 

I remember while writing my thesis paper comparing the agricultural developments with industrial and chalking a future action plan, I had paused for a moment ( a moment is the understatement of the year) many times, to think … “What would Akbar saheb say to this?How would he have provide a carefully planned solution?” I in my own minor capacity would envision myself as the shrewd, only economist I had ever known. I somehow took much pride in being able to do that. Right or wrong is what I didn’t care about, but it helped me get a perspective and that mattered the most. I have much to thank him for.

It’s been four months I gave the exams, but the book never leaves my bedside drawers. I open it randomly and read a few excerpts from time to time. However time has its way; an artist it is, skillfully clouding deep emotions and interests leaving them as hazy images of the past. Working round the clock, busy with young minds, a teacher’s life is not something thats hard to imagine… my routine blurred my passion for economics and shackled me to the everyday compulsion of life.

I never looked back till today, when I saw The Political Economist at an art and architecture convocation ceremony!  It had to be fated.. My presence today wasn’t just a mere coincidence as I wide eyed stared at Professor Syed Akbar Zaidi live in front of me!

S Akbar Zaidi

‘Never been to a convocation ceremony’ is what he had said and I was the second person absolutely endorsing the fact… I didn’t attend any too… not even mine! ‘rebellious, a non conformist and even confrontational to tradition…’ all these words rang a definite bell! It seemed for a while as if the man spoke for me and to me in a gathering of the many. 

Recollecting moments from today I am swept away by the thought of how fortune and fate works… It comes in packages that leave us at times spellbound…

Thoroughly amused,