Father and Son

A young man of eighteen

Rides into the battlefield

His tongue parched since three days

His heart pounding, echoing determination

With each stride of his steed

He vanquishes one enemy after another

The heat of Karbala beats down upon his head.

But his heart is with his aged father

Who he knows is watching from the encampment beyond

His soul yearns to win for his noble ancestors’ cause

And he forges ahead, intent on his mission.

Until a spear pierces his young beating determined heart,

And as he falls from the horse he cries

For his father who races and stumbles a hundred times

Until he reaches his son and takes his head in his lap.

“Alatash!” cries the young soldier,

“Alatash!” cries the Imam’s son.

“Water!” cries the countenance which reflects the features of the Last Prophet.

As his wound bleeds like a river let loose.

As his eyes flutter close,

The last image he sees in this world

Are of his father in indescribable anguish,

His beard drenched with tears.

Then he smiles,

As he sees his great grandfather,  his grandfather, grandmother and uncle,

Beckon him to the gates of Heaven.

“Until I meet you, my son,

Until I meet them,”

His father whispers

And with those words

Echoing in his ears

His soul rises to the heavens above.

Amate Syedna TUS


Ya Hatim al Khairaat RA


A tear wrenched from the heart

A prayer wails from the soul

As a bedraggled man places his head

On the turbat of Ya Hatim AL Khairaat

Lifting his suffering head

burdened by a teeming multitude of worldly plagues

He fills a fistful of sand from the base

Of the sacred sepulchre

And ties it reverently in a musty cloth.

After a trek of several furlongs

He reaches his abode and rests his aching feet

When the cloth in his pocket seems to beckon

Unlacing the ties

Expecting to find the Holy sand

Hoping to kiss the particles for solace

He gasps to see within

The glimmer of gold coins

He raises his arms heavenward

His eyes stream with tears undamned

His heart soars to the skies

To thank Ya Syedna Hatim

Amate Syedna TUS


16th of Moharram ul Haram 1438

The salami you gave

The shahadat you prayed

The tears you showered

The blessings you bestowed

Our heavenly abode

The destination proposed

Fortunate are we 

To say yes to the plea

The battle of Karbala

The brutality of enemy 

The nauha wal aweel

A pain that never heals

That manzar on haseer 

no difference is seen

Syedna Saifuddin TUS

or was Aqa Burhanuddin RA ?

Your RA presence was seen

clear and no doubt it had been

those bounties and favours

were from the treasures of Burhanuddin 

The faiz of Imam uz Zaman

The clear descendancy of Burhanuddin

who could deny?

Yet only can see mukhlaseen

Can’t thank you enough Maula 

for this nemat afzal o aala 

Ashara 1438

was a victory indeed!

Amate Syedna TUS,



Zanzibar-Tanzania, Africa 1438

The serene sound of the waves splashing at its shore, the turquoise blue water reflecting the bright rays of the sun, the feel of the cool breeze and the softness of the sand leaving behind immaculate footprints, the clustered wooden boats floating across the banks of the vast Indian Ocean paints a breath taking image of the picturesque island of Zanzibar. 

Zanzibar; a Tanzanian archipelago off the coast of East Africa has a flavour of Portuguese and Arabs intertwined with a natural blend offering a unique experience to any traveller.

I had only a day’s experience in Zanzibar yet I fell immediately in love with the city. The city presented a strong credo of sustaining and maintaining it’s cultural traditions along with it’s deep original historical essence.

Apart from that the marine mode of travelling offered an altogether refreshing experience.  The ferry route from Dar es Salam to Zanzibar was a ride that each one of us savoured. The sea plane again amplified the beauty of the trip by offering an enchanting view of Zanzibar to Dar es Salam.

The Prison Island depicted a historical significance and held a very symbolic position for Zanzibar. Tortoises; the endangered species kept as pets gave a cryptic feel to it yet mirrored the age old presence of the well kept monument. The wooden bridge stretching to the banks of the sea would leave any soul mesmerised and enthralled with its beauty. 

The city’s bazars, hotels, gardens and restaurants also offer the same flavour of ethnicity and antiquity making it all the more special and an absolutely preferred tourist destination. Zanzibar and it’s people take immense pride in the originality they offer and the authenticity they maintain. Their hospitality and kind nature adds a cherry on the top to the beauty of this Tanzanian archipelago of Zanzibar. 

Asante Tanzania!


Of tears


They rise from the deepest part of the soul,

They surge when the heart squeezes in pain,

They soar from an ocean of submerged feelings,

Until they drop from the eye and run down the cheek.

As they roll down the contours of the face,

They take with them an ocean of uncountable sins,

They cleanse the slate of the soul

Leaving behind paper that is white and pristine.

The combine with the quagmire of worldly pains

And vent them in a way so pure.

The tear is  no ordinary tear,

The salt within is no ordinary saline,

The water echoes emotions which cannot be foretold,

The brine is but unscarlet blood.

They flow on Imam Hussain AS

And only from eyes that are privileged.

They transport us to our ancient land

Where our souls yearn to return.

May this honour remain for our eyes,

May they always continue to water,

As the cries of Ya Husain escape our lips,

Until the soul escapes to the heavenly abode.

Amate Syedna TUS


My Dear Khidmat Guzar

​My Dear Khidmat Guzar,

Standing under the sun to ensure our shelter

Quenching thirsts with drinks and water

Never letting us wander, never go astray

Help of yours always comes our way

No cold replies, no sighs or frustration

You my dear never show signs of anger

Little if we ask, you gift us much

None despair, your offering is such

Whether it’s the masjid, mawaid or sabeel

Comfort and ease is what you make us feel

You teach what you preach and preach what you teach

Your values and morals, humility and grace, is for all, and benefits us each

Hungry, thirsty burnt by the sun

you work all day and let no request shun

You smile and welcome each question we have

and help us adapt to all that we learn

My dear Khidmat Guzar,

Sleepless nights, and aching limbs

Steadfast you stand, no desires no whims

With all the sweat and sunburnt skin

Complaints and insults, you take on the chin

No jewels, or gems or riches of this earth,

More than all this, your efforts are worth

How may we thank you for all your care?

for all these days the endless barakaat we share

The Dua of Maula is your only wish

With tafaadi and khidmat His blessings you seek

May you always remain in the noorani khidmat

Today and tomorrow, and always in His hazrat

Amate Syedna TUS,


8th of Moharram ul Haram 1438H: Dar es Salam

​”Kem thaye?”

How is it possible?

I struggle to look for a word or a phrase which perfectly translates “Kem Thaye” in English but none does justice. 

When travelling to Dar es Salam and looking at the countless momineen undertaking this sacred journey I wondered whether even a glimpse of Maula TUS would be possible or not. 

I had been allocated two passes in Hakimi Masjid and those were the only days I had hoped for Deedar Mubarak. On the day of the 2nd waaz I had a pass of one of the Halls bordering the Hakimi Masjid. I had lost all hope of Deedar however the hall itself was well equipped with every facility which would ensure that throughout one would be able to concentrate without any disturbance. As soon as namaz ended there was hustle and bustle everywhere. I could see Burhani Guards frantically cordoning the various zones allocated for momineens seating around the Hakimi Masjid. Of course by then everyone understood the reason for this frenzy and prepared themselves for Maula’s Deedar. The momineen were exhilarated when Maula TUS blessed the sharaf of Deedar to each and every momin. Not a single momin could have possibly been left out. Momineen couldn’t thank Allah less for this great blessing as their fate outshoned their expectations and continued to do so for the rest of the days. 

The sharaf of namaz with Maula everyday along with Deedar so lavishly showered… What more could one ask for? However Maula TUS beats all expectations and leaves us wondering when everyday more than 1200 people after the majlis at night get the Sharaf of Qadambosi. If one ponders over this particular schedule of Maula TUS, the only word that comes in our mind is “Kem Thaye?” but of course this is not an ordinary person we speak of, He is an extraordinary being not limited by any time or space. The heavenly powers and thousands of angels are with him to ensure that the Dai of Imam uz Zaman turns all impossibilities to a possibility.

Yesterday’s visit of the Tanzanian President bore witness to the glory of the Sultan e Dawoodi Bohra TUS. The effect of the Divine Presence and the heavenly powers radiating from the true ambassador of Allah leaves hardly anyone’s emotions undeterred and untouched. The President addressed Maula with great humility and respect, thanking him time and again for choosing Tanzania as the blessed land for Ashara Mubaraka 1438. He even expressed his desire to be dressed like momineen and be counted as a member amongst this sacred gathering. The president displayed deep affection for Maula TUS and expressed it graciously by bending down on his knees before Him TUS. The sight left everyone spellbound in awe and wonder for it was natural for momineen to feel such love and respect for Maula TUS but to witness other people of the world feel overwhelmed with gratitude was nothing less than a miracle and glory of this Dawat of Imam uz Zaman and His Dai.

There is a sea of emotions inside while I write this post on the 8th of Moharram,  after the Deedar Mubarak of Aqa Syedna Mohammad Burhanuddin RA. But to enclose the sea in a droplet, it would suffice if I just say that Burhanuddin Maula RA, The King of all kings, the Sultan of all sultans has left with us His true descendant who is the true recipient of this ultimate glory and the Kingdom of Imam uz Zaman.

Amate Syedna TUS,


7th Moharram ul Haram 1438H Dar es Salam

On my right there is a lady educating the women on entrepreneurship using updated and contemporary methods. She is conducting a formal workshop on Business and Entrepreneurship having all the aids and equipments one would require in any setting or institution. On my left  there is a calligraphy class going on where the young along with the old, having the passion to write beautifully are trying to skillfully use their pens to ensure every curve and every dot is flawlessly made. 

There is a PowerPoint presentation going on just in front of me of the details of the waaz skillfully summarized along with a proper glossary. There is a person there who along with the PowerPoint is offering an in depth analysis of the waaz of today and all this is being done in just one of the many halls in the vicinity around Hakimi Masjid. The moment I step out of this particular hall there are thousands of momineen out there meeting their own various agendas. Some are busy making arrangements for the upcoming Magrib Namaz, some following up on Nazafat, some catching up with their global friends near tea stalls, some translating one language to another, some are lining up to get a better place in the masjid while there are some like me taking pictures, moving around from one place to another with their backpacks dangling in their arms.

And yes ofcourse there is another group engrossed in their own heated debates near various spots. This group is everywhere. They are near makeshift offices, rooms, washrooms, resting areas and every possible comfortable corner to sit and chat! 

This enormous gathering of above 35,000 people from around the globe is an amazing congregation of Dawoodi Bohras, reflecting unity and like mindedness of momineen. Indeed it communicates to not only momineen but projects a global message of discipline, morals, common culture, tradition and value system that Dawoodi Bohras worldwide are brought up with.

Amate Syedna TUS,


Hear the Euphrates Cry


The waters of the Euphrates wince,

They flow but without their verve,

Against the banks of Karbala.


If you had cupped a hand

And tasted the waters

I swear they would have been salty

The tears of Euphrates itself

Lamenting for the 72 on its banks

For whom its water was prohibited.


If you had laid your ears

Against the banks of the Euphrates

You might have heard the waters wail

At the thirst of a six-month old

At the slain hands of the flag bearer

Who had attempted to carry a skin of water

For the whimpering children of Ahle Bait.

For the 18 year old youth

Who lay his head on his aged father’s lap

Crying, ‘Alatash! Alatash!’


If you had held your breath

You might have heard the cries of the Euphrates

The cries as Imam Husain AS bent his head

So that Islam might raise its own.


The cries of the Euphrates echo in Karbala even today

They cry, “Ya Husain! Ya Husain!”


Amate Syedna TUS



4th of Moharram ul Haram, Dar es Salam-1438

​Lines, boards, stops, gates, guards, stalls of juices, drinks, chilled honey water etc.; the entire arena seemed to be  bustling with equipments for momineens’ ease and provisions. The entire complex of Hakimi Masjid and everything in its vicinity radiated with energy, unity and above all a divine feeling of belonging to this blessed crowd.
In the morning I met a few faces in deep anticipation about the change of their seats, their concern was so heartfelt that I couldn’t help but say, “What difference does it make? We will simply reach where we are assigned to. It makes our life simpler.” Indeed it does. This system relieves one off the tension of getting in a race unnecessarily.
After sometime as I walked comfortably towards my gate, thinking and replaying the episode in the morning, I walked as per practice in my reverie when someone interrupted it saying, “You are no longer sitting here, your pass has been changed and you need to walk in another line”. For me who I have always thought to be very Internet savvy, this came down as a surprise, as no notification I had received about this.  Nevertheless as prescribed, without further thought and explanation over it, I started moving towards the designated gates. One after another, I got scanned, every step of the way, looking at the people as they did their khidmat and I being myself silently walking towards wherever fate took me.
However again this apparent dumbness of mine was disturbed when someone asked me for my pass. I simply said, “I don’t know. I was just sent here after getting my card scanned.” I could see the frustration eminent on the volunteers and I can’t blame them much for the blank look with which I had uttered those words were like someone from the dark stone ages had just appeared from nowhere and has zero idea about what’s going around.
Then came to the rescue a gracious lady who took my card and took me with her to get it scanned again to locate my seat and block. I stood there with her, not letting the hyperactivity around seep in me. She informed me of my details, I thanked her for her help while she looked at me twice, wondering maybe if I am going to avail it or plan to sit along with the thousands outside in camps.
However, I should clarify here that maybe I did look that blank for some odd reason, but inside was very curious of what really was happening here.
Just then as I walked towards one of the the doors, I reached the entrance of the Masjid where I started looking for my number and block. I was looking near the walls or behind the barricades when someone came and inquired of my whereabouts.  I while looking around the not usual settings uttered those numbers I had learnt.
Apparently the dear lady disliked being ignored, and especially those who thought they would reach their block, if they would read and follow. So she took me by my hand and leaving one block behind another brought me to my place and assigned number. I looked at her, and then looked at the sight that lay in front of me. I checked again for some error and asked her if there is a sticker of my name. She sighed in exasperation  and ordered me to sit down. I quickly did as I was told for I feared if I wouldnt do, I might waken from this amazing dream that lay in front of me.
I was here, I was there, right in front, in reality, just across where the Dai of Husain TUS shall pray shahadat on the 4th day of Ashara Mubaraka 1438 in Daresalam.

Amate Syedna TUS,