Seerah Poem Competition

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

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I gave my class a competition when they finished their Seerah book, to write the summary of the Seerah in a poetic form. Here are the winners! Alhumdu Lillah…

He was born in the year when Abraha brought his elephants,

And it was the year Allah showed his benevolence.

Never knowing his father, his life was hard to fix,

But sadly, his mother also died when he was at the age of 6.

Now in the hands of Abdul Muttalib his life looked to be great,

It was a shame that this honoured man died when the Prophet SAW was only 8.

From then on, his uncle Abu Talib held the responsibility of his life,

And when the Prophet SAW was 25, Khadijah RA was to be his first wife.

With Khadijah RA, 2 boys and 4 girls he had,

A happy family they were and he was glad.

Gaining Prophethood at the age of of 40, he had an Ummah to make,

To serve Allah, he made it an opportunity that he would proudly take.

When it came to his wives, he had eleven,

And in one sitting he granted ten Sahabah RA Heaven.

From Makkah to Madinah he migrated with his Sahabah RA,

But he returned to do Hajj and do Tawaf of the Ka’bah.

Together they fought in in many battles for the sake of their Lord,

Passionately calling ‘Allahu Akbar’ as they up lifted up their swords.

At the age of 63, the Prophet Muhammad SAW sadly passed away,

However, the religion of Islam has lived on to this day.

 

Uwaiz Ebrahim Bahadur, 15 years old.

1st position.

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When the truth was lost and hearts were locked,

Allah sent a Prophet to guide hearts which were lost.

The blessed Muhammad was born in Makkah.

 

He was sent to teach right from wrong,

To worship nobody besides Allah, who is the only one.

 

His Sunnah guided people who were astray,

It gave them a way of life, telling them how to behave.

 

The Prophet SAW told us Paradise or Hell,

To follow the Qur’an and act upon what is said.

 

He loved nobody more than his final Ummah,

Even as he lay on his deathbed he cried for his followers.

 

The moment he left this world,

He left 3 men in charge to ensure the beauty,

Of Islam reached everyone’s hearts.

Zubair Iqbal Patel, 18 years old.

2nd position.

 

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About the Prophet Muhammad’s SAW Life

In the year 570 a special boy was born,

His name was Muhammad and deserved to take the throne.

 

He was born in Makkah where the beautiful Ka’bah was built by his beloved ancestors Ibraheem AS and Ismaeel AS,

The unfortunate demise of the Prophet’s father Abullah RA took place two months before he was born.

 

His mother Aminah RA sent him to Halimah Sadiyah to be nursed and be brought up by her,

After the 4 years he spend in the tribe of Saad, his respected mother passed away.

 

He then went to live with his courageous grandfather Abdul Muttalib, whose soul went after 2 years,

It was now the blessed Abu Talib’s turn, it was from him that the Prophet SAW started to learn.

 

The Prophet SAW was now 25 and he travelled to Syria at the request of Khadijah RA,

He then married her and had six children – 2 boys and 4 girls.

 

The 2 sons Abdullah and Qasim died when they were infants,

This was a tragic moment for him SAW,

And how can we forget his adopted son Zayd ibn Harithah RA?

 

His daughters, Zaynab, Ruqayyah, Umme Kulthum and Fatimah RA,

Two were married to Uthman RA and one to Ali RA.

 

As time went by, Islam grew and the Muslims had enemies,

They fought in wars like Badr where there were fewer than 400 men,

But the Makkans had more than 1,000 as enemy.

 

Islam spread far when the Prophet SAW became old, by 63

He was leading Maghrib Salah and could not continue, so told Abu Bakr to carry on.

 

This was an indication, to the next leader after him SAW,

Who was known as al-Siddique, the most truthful after him SAW.

 

Adam Irfan Mohammed, 11 years old.

2nd position

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A Poem About The Prophet Muhammad SAW

He was born in the Year of the Elephant,

The Year of the Elephant is called Aamul Feel.

 

The Prophet SAW was cared by Halima RA, but when it was time to go,

Halima RA wanted him to stay some more.

 

When he returned, at age 6 his mother passed away,

This was a time of very tough days.

 

Then came along his beloved grandad Abdul Muttalib, who took him in his care,

His grandad was very just and very fair.

 

At the age of 25 he got married to a lady called Khadijah RA,

And later, in total he had 11 wives.

 

At the age of 40 he got Prophethood,

In Makkah there was a lot of evil and not much good.

 

He SAW became a Prophet, the last Prophet of Allah,

This Prophet made Islam reach very very far!

Abdullah Faizal Kalu, 9 years old.

3rd position.

 

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From the home of…

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
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From the home of Adam (peace be upon him) came a murderer, not just any murderer but one who murdered his own blood brother out of jealousy.
From the home of Lut (peace be upon him) came a woman who betrayed her husband and incited the people of the town towards the despicable act of sodomy.
From the home of Nuh (peace be upon him), a nabi of Allah SWT who made da’wah for almost a thousand years came a child who refused to board the ark and who drowned as a Kafir in front of his eyes.
Yet from the home of Azar, who was not only an idol worshipper but an idol carver and merchant who never in his life took the name of Allah, came Ibraheem (peace be upon him).
And from the home of Firawn, the one who claimed that He is Allah himself, came Musa (peace be upon him)who preached nothing but the oneness of Allah SWT.
How can anyone then claim that the outcome of their family and children is based on their own “kamal”? (Excellence)
How can people then look down upon parents who have lost their children to the fitnahs of the time, citing their negligence?
How then can anyone with sane understanding and logic believe that guidance is in the hands of anyone but Allah?
In the name of Allah, the most Beneficent, the most Merciful
All praises are for Allah SWT, the most Compassionate, the most Forgiving.
Salutations and blessings be upon our Prophet Muhammad SAW, his family and companions.
Oh Allah, we submit ourselves to You.
We realize that parenting a child is a very difficult task and we turn to You in humility for Your help.
We implore You for Your wisdom and guidance.
Oh Allah, we know that our children are an amaanah from You, to care for and to raise in a manner that is pleasing to You.
Help us do that in the best way.
Teach us how to love in only a way that You would have us love.
Help us where we need to be healed, improved, nurtured, and made whole.
Help us walk in righteousness and integrity so that You may always be pleased with us.
Allow us to be  God-fearing role models with all the communication, teaching, and nurturing skills that we may need. Ameen

I am a Mustish?!

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

britishI am a Muslim. I am British.
I am British. I am a Muslim.
I am a British Muslim.
Do the order of words REALLY matter?
Muslim British, British Muslim.
A cup of tea is what I crave,
Digestives and Custard Creams are my fave.
At the same time, the headscarf I wear,
And YouTube I scour to fashion it with care.
Awkward weather conversations and polite queuing,
HP sauce, marmite and cows mooing.
At the same time, I rush out to perform my prayer,
Because for me, this makes my daily endeavours clear.
You tell me I must choose,
But neither I am willing to lose.
For both are a part of me,
So please, allow me to be.
I am a Muslim. I am British.
I am British. I am a Muslim.
I am a British Muslim.
Do the order of words REALLY matter?
Muslim British, British Muslim.
Mus-tish?
Written by Apa Fatima Ahmed, Teacher at Islamiyah School, (Masjid Sajedeen Open Day 2018).
mustish

Dear Mum and Dad,

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

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Dear Mum and Dad,
Do you remember the day I was born?
I guess since then quite a bit I have grown.
Drink milk, sleep and cry is all I would do,
And of course keep filling my nappy up too!
Since then things have changed and I’ve gone big now,
And I’m sure you’ll agree that its amazing how,
Allah turned me from a tiny baby who knew nothing at all,
Who might one day among fellow humans stand tall.
I say might because I’m a bit like a seed you see,
Nurtured well it has the potential to develop into a strong tree.
That has strong roots firmly anchored deep into the land,
So that the winds of change over time it is able to withstand.
Have you done that Mum and Dad nurtured me good?
And I don’t mean just to have given me clothes, toys and food?
As I said I’ like a plant I’m going to grow anyway,
But whether or not that’s a wild, straggly, useless one in that you have a say.
Allah has made you responsible to teach me what is wrong and right,
Of this sometimes it seems that you tend to lose sight.
How is it that you can shout at me for losing something new till your blue in the face,
Yet when I miss my Fajr everyday, of any anger, I see no trace.
When there’s a million things like the washing and ironing for you to do,
You stick me in front of the TV, out of your way so that your chores you can get through.
Don’t get me wrong Mum I do have fun, cartoons I do like to see,
But Mawlana at Mosque tells me TV is bad, so you don’t half confuse me!
I’m sure being a parent is a hard job, but there is help for you, you know,
If you follow the Prophet’s SAW example you won’t go wrong, that’s for sure!
Anonymous

Straight Talk!

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

ship
So, you reckon Allah will understand?
And not give you a reprimand?
How on earth can you even think that at all?!
Surely, you can see Shaytan’s setting you up for a fall.
Don’t you remember Hadhrat Abu Bakr RA talking of Judgement Day?
He had hope and fear and knew it could go either way.
And here is foolish you,
Simply relying on Allah’s mercy to get you through.
How you can be so stupid I really don’t know!
But one thing of which I am quite sure,
Is that if you’d paid thousands for a prosthetic arm,
I bet my bottom dollar you’d let it come to no harm.
Despite the fact that it would never be,
As good as the real thing given to you and me.
So WHY ain’t you looking after this gift given to you free of charge,
It’s been made-to-measure just for you – not too little or too large.
By the one who loves you more than you love Him,
And thats how you show gratitude by acting on a whim!
You need to wake up before its too late,
Break the cycle now before it turns into self hate.
Do you remember when to you someone once said,
(And it was also summat that you read)
That Shaytan only frequents those from whom he can steal a precious jewel.
Just stop and think, don’t you reckon that’s so cool?
That means that somewhere within you,
And I know you find this hard to believe but its true.
You’ve got summat that Shaytan reckons is worth nicking,
Are you really gonna let him take it without giving him a good kicking???
To hear your answer as a firm no – is good,
Because that is the attitude that you should
Have in order to get far in life,
Remember its all about struggle and strife.
There will be highs and there will be lows,
That’s Shaytans way of keeping you on your toes.
Just stay alert and on the ball,
Keep strengthening your mental wall.
Take each day as it comes and you’re sure to be fine,
Ask for Allah’s help and then go out there and shine.
All the best!
Where there’s a will there’s a way…
Anonymous

A Pillar of Justice

An attentive listener, A sincere sympathiser, A generous giver, A considerate thinker, A beautiful soul, A ready giver of love, A noble mind, A deep carer, A nourishing heart, A pillar of justice, A man of principle, A heart of gold, A purified soul, An embodiment of truth, An ocean of knowledge, A wealth of experience, A treasure of advices, A pearl of wisdom, An angel personified…

In Memory of my Late Father – Haji NazirAhmed Daud Satia RH, who returned to Allah on this day, 4 years ago.

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You held my hand when I was small, you caught me when I fell,

The hero of my childhood, and of latter years as well.

Every time I think of you, my heart just fills with pride,

And though I’ll always miss you, I know you’re by my side.

 

Not a day passes by, that you don’t cross my mind,

Not all of you departed when you left us all behind.

In my heart there is a place that only you can hold,

Filled with loving memories more priceless than silver or gold.

 

You never looked for praises, you were never one to boast,

You just went on quietly working, for the ones you loved the most.

You were a firm foundation through all our storms of life,

A sturdy hand to hold on to, in times of stress and strife.

 

Remembering you is easy, I do it every day,

Missing you is the heartache that never goes away.

You dwell among the angels now, but you left us too soon,

I can see you gliding across a golden field, above the harvest moon.

 

A thousand words won’t bring you back, I know because I’ve tried,

And neither will a million tears, I know because I’ve cried.

In laughter and in sorrow, in sunshine and in rain,

I know you always prayed for me, so now I pray for you…until we meet again.

 

He wasn’t a hero known by the entire world,

But a hero he was to his little world (his family).

If only you could see me, I’d want you to know this is true,

That everything I am today, is all because of you…

We will remember your values, teachings, morals, justice and principles.

Your beauty internal and external will never be extinguished from our minds.

Allah grant you everything you prayed for and much more, Allah fill the sorrowful void of your loss with Divine Consolation. Ameen.

Ismail Ibn Nazir Satia (One who is in dire need of Allah’s forgiveness, mercy and pleasure)

9th Rabiul Awwal 1439

A man was born…

dead

A man was born 69 years ago,

Brave, courageous, a fighter for the truth,

A man was born 69 years ago,

Who was no ordinary man, not a weak man but strong and valiant.

A man was born 69 years ago,

Who was kind, loving, warm and friendly,

A man was born 69 years ago,

Who had a heart of gold, but stayed firm and bold.

A man was born 69 years ago,

Who loved helping people, but never asked for help,

A man was born 69 years ago,

Who was thoughtful and caring, but fierce and daring.

A man was born 69 years ago,

He couldn’t see wrong in front of him, didn’t matter if it was his own kith and kin,

A man was born 69 years ago,

Selfless, sacrificing, noble and respected.

This man left us three years ago,

Silently, returned to his Lord SWT,

This man left us three years ago,

Our lips were silent, but our hearts spoke

This man left us three years ago,

Even if we tried to forget him, it’s difficult to hide the painful tears.

In Memory of Abba

Ismail Ibn Nazir Satia (One who is in dire need of Allah’s Forgiveness, Mercy and Pleasure).

27 Safar 1437

Hey Mr?! Don’t step the line…

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There is a fine line between being nosy and trying to help out,

There is a fine line between being arrogant and being confident.

There is a fine line between being obnoxious and being bold or brave,

There is a fine line between being argumentative and speaking up (haqq).

There is a fine line between being immature and cracking a joke,

There is a fine line between being passive or apathetic and being merciful.

There is a fine line between flirting and being polite,

There is a fine line between being two-faced and trying to compromise between two parties.

There is a fine line between treating your religion as a buffet (pick and choose) and having true spirituality and religiosity,

There is a fine line between acting hypocritical by being sweet with someone (on their face) and offering Salam and a handshake.

There is a fine line between being racist and having banter (racist jokes are just as wrong),

There is a fine line between simply being a coward (afraid to say the truth) and using Hikmah (to avoid a worse situation).

There is a fine line between bribing someone and being generous,

There is a fine line between complaining, moaning or whinging and constructively criticising.

There is a fine line between being negative and being a realist (perhaps the reality is negative),

There is a fine line between free speech and free hate; one encourages debate whilst the other incites hatred and violence.

There is a fine line between showing off (Riyaa) and showing your deeds to encourage or motivate others.

And finally, (lol) …There is a fine line between putting make-up on and looking as though you had a fight with Crayola!

Ismail Ibn Nazir Satia

(One who is in dire need of Allah’s forgiveness, mercy and pleasure).

8 Rabiul Thani 1437

Television

Roald Dahl’s poem ‘Television’ – written in 1964 when there were only three black and white channels which stopped broadcasting in the night time.Copy-of-Poems-1-1

Even more relevant these days:

The most important thing we’ve learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set —
Or better still, just don’t install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we’ve been,
We’ve watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone’s place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they’re hypnotised by it,
Until they’re absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don’t climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink —
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK — HE ONLY SEES!
‘All right!’ you’ll cry. ‘All right!’ you’ll say,
‘But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!’
We’ll answer this by asking you,
‘What used the darling ones to do?
‘How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?’
Have you forgotten? Don’t you know?
We’ll say it very loud and slow:
THEY … USED … TO … READ! They’d READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching ’round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it’s Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There’s Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They’ll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start — oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They’ll grow so keen
They’ll wonder what they’d ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.

by Roald Dahl

Don’t condemn in others, what we condone in ourselves

So you think ISIS is a crisis?

Okay! Let’s just take Bashar and BB and put them behind us,

And oh, what about those demons inside us?!

We invade and destroy Iraq, like act like don’t mind us!

You wanna flip out when ISIS carries out crimes in the name of God,

But what about the drones and bombs that we drop a lot on villages,

We received images of children in little bits and pieces,

In the name of freedom and peace,

It’s mind boggling… how we condemn in others what we condone in ourselves

If you wana stop the violence, you can’t make exceptions,

If you wana stop the violence, then stop selling weapons,

Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman and Raytheons,

Instigate by funding speakers, sending instant hates so they can profit,

If you wana stop it then stop them,

No more solutions involving ‘lets just bomb them’,

We can’t kill and kill and kill and think that it helps,

We can’t condemn in others what we condone in ourselves.

Yes I’m Muslim, yes I’m biased,

Based on the fact I know people overseas that are lifeless,

Cause rockets and shells are part of the climate,

Instead of clouds and shade,

The sky buzzes loud with drones and rain of hell fire leaving pain,

And the stain of blood on clothes and scattered bones,

Every single drone rocket fires a couple more points on the Down Jones,

I’m just hoping what I say can help, we can’t condemn in others what we condone in ourselves.

Look, I’m not saying this is your fault,

But I am saying maybe YOU should apologise,

Especially since ‘supposedly’ it is my fault,

The latest assault on the lives of husbands and wives that took place on the other side of the planet,

Somehow it’s connected to me even though I didn’t plan it,

If we Muslims have to apologise for the four letter word that’s p**sing off the world,

Then you have to apologise,

For the ones who colonise to occupy and terrorise,

And apologise for the lies fed that led to the thousands that died,

And Iraq, for so-called weapons of mass destruction that you couldn’t find,

Do we have a deal?

I’m sorry if you feel uncomfortable, that’s just cognitive dissonance,

Yes I look different, I’m the son of an immigrant, you and I both!

What a coincidence… isn’t it odd how we condemn in others what we condone in ourselves.

The first thing you need to comprehend is that war is profitable,

So let’s pretend, isn’t it possible that we aren’t at war for defence,

But for dollars and cents,

And differences are exploited, and all of these fence in the media are leading ya,

To a fight you never wanted,

Does any of that make sense?

Now don’t tell me I am defending ISIS, cause they killed thousands more Muslims than western journalists,

The more we ignore this fact the worse it gets,

Where was the shot when Bashar dropped barrel bombs on civilians in Syria,

Where was the constant media and why are they feeding ya,

Their fake concern for civilians now?

Bashar killed 200,000 before ISIS came to town.

Why do we chose which evil is necessary to fight?

Why do we only march for Christians and Whites, but not the Black or Brown, the Muslim Arab or Kurd?

Some blood is as cheap as dirt!

We can’t condemn in others what we condone in ourselves.

Why are we so mad that ISIS is killing?

Didn’t Israel just slaughter 500 children last summer?

Why is that not chilling?

Why are we willing?

Why are we okay to pay dollar and shilling, for the slaughter of mothers and daughters,

But, we can’t stand to see men in ninja outfits chopping off heads.

What’s the difference between a plane and a blade if both lead people dead?

What’s the difference between killing your support and killing your against?

My point is that all life is sacred,

So stop with all the hatred,

Cos blood is still blood,

No matter how you try and paint it.

We can’t condemn in others what we condone in ourselves.