We sit together, huddled closely,
Anxiously, on the front row
All eyes glued, not to you but
To the images that your words create
You lead us at a measured pace,
Over the peaks and down through the troughs.
Your carefully selected words take us from plane
To plane, each line a new sensory experience.
We wait patiently to follow your cue
To stand in front of your captured audience
And deliver our own humble efforts, Where
My words seem but weak in comparison
I’m nervous and uncomfortable, as I read
Out loud my innermost feelings, thoughts and fears
I see the occasional raised eyebrow, the occasional
Smile amongst faces deep in thought.
I read some more of my painful verse, not sure
If this is what is expected of me
The Round Robin continues through the night, one after
The other we take turns to share the eyes through which we see
The tempo rises and then falls, the mood swings round
Taking us with it on a spiritual journey.
Returning from the break, I find reassurance
In the smiling face and soft coaxing words of a friend.
The evening runs on, the audience
eagerly hold their hands out to be led away to that other world
And as we take them where we will, the half-dimmed room
hides from us their true reactions.
It is only when the evening draws to an end,
kind words from friendly strangers let us know that all is well
Tonight was truly an ecstatic exchange,
led by the master painter Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore
NOTE:
Many of you have asked me for the Ruba’yat from which I read at the Poetry Sama’.
danielabdalhayymoore Said:
on January 7, 2007 at 6:00 pm
Imran, salaama… your earnest, quitely flowing lyrics, those ruba’yats, were the needed harmonic chords to the evening. Even your reticence was in itself a kind of sama’, almost as much silence coming from you as words… Thank you for your participation, and may Allah keep you proficient in your soulful ambidexterity…
Kelly Walsh Said:
on January 26, 2007 at 2:17 am
Your Audience
As I sit with your many friends
I realise that you also had a captured audience
both in life and death.
Once again we sit ‘huddled together’
this time for us to tell our tales of you,
And you being you, there were many to tell!
As our bitter sweet evening runs on
we pray insha’allah
that you too will be taken by the hand and led away gently,
into that other world you were so fond of taking us.
Where once our reactions were hidden by the shadows of that evening,
our smiles and tears in celebration of your life
are now bathed in the light that you passed onto each and every one of us.
It is only with the departure of those as dear as you that we realise
the evening draws to an end for us all.
It was truly an ecstatic exchange knowing you Imran.
May you now live in the truest of exultation.
On returning from Imran’s funeral I wrote this in response to his ‘Poetry Sama’, for he too had an audience. My writing in no way compares to the eloquence with which Imran wrote and spoke.
sf Said:
on January 27, 2007 at 4:22 pm
Dear Kelly,
A touching tribute!
Your poem evokes heart-felt emotions from the reader, a true sense of loss…..and couldn’t be expressed better.
It’s a fact that Br. Imran’s audience is extended well beyond the Poetry Sama’ function, through his exemplary words, deeds and feelings of brotherhood.
May Allah(SWT) grant him the highest station in Paradise and patience to his parents, family and friends. Ameen
MUM Said:
on March 17, 2007 at 11:06 pm
Inna Lilahi wa inna ilahi rajaun
(Truly to Allah we belong and truly, to him we shall return)
In memory of my loving son Imran Saithna (1978-2007)
Dearest son Imran
Your death has surely been
A test of my Imaan( Faith).
I thought I was strong
I thought I could cope with the storm
I am very weak and feeble and absolutely torn.
Two weeks gone by
I have stumbled and fumbled
I have wept and wept day and night
Unable to see any bright light.
My heart shudders
My tears roll
My body aches with the pain
For your departing soul.
If this is Allah’s wish
Dearest son Imran
Then I have to bow with Submission
For in Islam there is NO Question
But True Acceptance.
Your Father, Your Sister, Your Brother, your Aunt
Your Uncles, Your Cousins
And Family and Friends around the world
Have cried and cried.
But I will tell you something my dearest son
We all, every single one
Are full of pride
Your life was short
You left us in the prime of your youth
It hurts our heart
It’s hard to believe
To give us any relief
It is a fact
There is No doubt that it is Allah’s act.
By the age of 28
You had touched so many lives
In different ways
For which Allah has witnesses.
There were hundred’s of friends
At your Funeral Prayer
There were hundreds at your burial
Your grave was sealed not by a digger
But by the hands of hundred’s of youth
And my Dearest Son
So many hearts and hands praying for you.
You were an inspiration
Everybody says so
How many of us would follow your contributions
With so much of dedication.
Who will be brave like you to go to the Earth Quake Zone?
Who will bury parts of the bodies shattered by the stones?
Who will see the plight of families lost all their loved ones?
Who will go hungry and give their share of food to the alone?
Who will work with prisoners to integrate them in society?
Who will raise funds for mosques and organize Eid Parties?
Who will give up their Eid Day to work with charity organisations?
Who will hold quizzes and poetry competitions?
Who will say that we all need to be respected
Whether we are Muslims, Christians, Jews, Hindus or others.
When you were a baby
I called you a Gold Medalist
Because you were the best of my three babies.
The world did not know this my son
But today when you are gone, they say you were a gem
And a Shining star
This really confirms.
Dearest son Imran
Now you are under ALLAH’s tender care and protection
I pray along with all, that Allah Ar-Rahman, (Most Gracious)
Ar-Rahim(Most Compassionate) will take care of you
Just like you did of me on Haj.
As He is The Most Merciful and Forgiving
I pray that He out numbers all your good deeds and forgives your bad.
Gives you the highest Rank in Janaat ul Firdous( Paradise)
I also pray that Allah being As Sabur (The Patient)
Gives us all the patience to cope with the loss of not only a son
A brother, a friend but A GEM
May we meet again in the Here After.Ameen
MUM
( Writing this poem has been very difficult ,I have shed a million tears. Nothing in comparision to Imran’s writing, just a picture of my thoughts). Let’s all pray for the Families in Iraq, Palestine and around the world that are afflicted by tragedies each day. Let’s not forget that for a mother every child’s death is like loosing her precious GEM. Just imagine for one second how many Gems gone each day.
May Allah rest their souls in peace Ameen).
Atiya Saithna
In memory of Imran Saithna, rockstar extraordinare: Bleed the pen, burn the paper, dry those tears of eternal sorrow Said:
on March 20, 2007 at 8:07 pm
[...] who wrote to me about his experiences knowing Imran; there is Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore, with whom he shared his love for poetry. But even I, who knew him so briefly and barely, feel that I’ve lost [...]
stranger Said:
on July 18, 2007 at 3:32 pm
i thought of you today. i never got to properly thank you for helping me out with so many things. for listening to me. for making sure i got home ok. or for the dates from saudi arabia after you came back from hajj. i remember seeing you few days before this..and when i saw you and you told me of your plans and you seemed so happy.. it’s been harding coming to terms with this. i hope you’re in a better place now. may God bless your soul. ameen.