The reed stick


The reed stick bleeded on the petals of its beloved.

For the qalam knew that the parchment would absorb

All its sorrowful tears and keep them safe

From the uncertainty of the passing time.


On the sincerity of Love


The Sun’s love for the earth was so sincere

That even when it shined in shades of grey

Beyond the path of right and wrong

Where things are either black or white

The only thing my eyes could see

Amongst these subtle tones of light

Were the meaning of a fulfilled life

Where one’s love is so profound

That its depth echoes a melody

Where one’s smile is so radiant

It turns a dark night into a vivid day



Urla, Turkey. Summer 2009.

Depths are real. So real that they feel unreal. So real, that we feel they are untrue. Their reality is complex and complexity is not often the path we choose. We marginalize them. We ignore them, like nothing else.

We stand tall and admire the sea. We see the reflection of our existence on the waves and come to the conclusion that oceans were created for that purpose, to remind us that we’re alive. Their depths have no meaning. We ignore them, like nothing else.

Oceans are patient. They often forgive our shortsightedness. They wish some of us would look through the reflection of their own being and discover new worlds, for you don’t always need to fly to discover new lands. Their waves keep chanting poems inviting us to explore their intimacy. And we? We ignore them. We ignore them, like nothing else.

Oceans look at us differently. When they stare at us, they don’t look to reaffirm their own reality by contemplating themselves through our eyes, turning them into mere mirrors. They are so conscious of their own existence that its assertion through an entity, itself unsure of its own destiny seems futile. They ignore their own reflection. They ignore them, like we ignore their depths. They ignore them, like nothing else.

So what do oceans look at when they stare at us? If our eyes are not mere mirrors for them to comb their waves, what do they look at?

Depths. What we ignore in them, they cherish in us. For oceans, each one of us is a gateway towards a new discovery. They know that ‘within everyone of us is enfolded an entire universe’. They look through our eyes, and travel in our mind, for eyes are just a door that leads towards our fears and thoughts.

Depths. Our Depths are truly what oceans are after. Oceans are so thirsty to experience our thoughts, that they have left drops of their own existence in our eyes as tears. They parted with their own particles to keep our eyes moist and our vision intact. Sacrifice. This is what true love is about.

We start admiring blossoming flowers in the spring. Their perfection brings a tear in our eyes. As soon as this teardrop is formed, somewhere, in a distant land, waves start swaying in admiration. Sharing. This is what true love is about. We open our eyes, and oceans are those who experience colors. We breath, and they smell the fragrance. And when we finally close our eyes, it is them, who experience the absence of light.

The puddle.


At the sight of this puddle.

If those eyes had stared long enough.

While looking at themselves

If they had come, just close enough.

While gazing at their own reflection,

If they had looked, just deep enough.

If they had looked, just deep enough

Their lost corals they would have found

If they had come, just close enough.

At their footstep, a water lily they would have found

If those eyes had stared long enough.

Beneath a puddle, an ocean they would have found.

A Light of a Different Kind


A light of a different kind

One that enlightened my existence

But disappeared when my eyes started to shine

A wisdom of a different kind

One that soothed my soul

But flew away when I wished to reach its height

An intellect of a different kind

One that questioned my existence

But remained silent when I dared questioning its own

A certainty of a different kind

One that shook pillars of my faith

But could not withstand the weight of my slightest doubts

A morality of a different kind

One that revealed jewels of purity without speaking

But rebelled at the sight of an inspired soul

A kindness of a different kind

One that invited confessions to happen

But remained silent when oceans are unleashed

A complexity of a different kind

A light that enlightens its surroundings

But runs away from its own darkness

A wisdom that freed my soul

But could not free itself from its own rebellion

An intellect that sparkled my thoughts

But could not silence its own judgmental voice

A certainty that boasted firmness

But only revealed its own frailty

A morality that spoke for itself

But remained silent when an answer was due

A kindness that opened the door to my heart and mind

But did not travel in their dreams and hopes

A light of a different kind

One that was afraid of itself the most

Sincerity, like a mirror, had dazzled her depth

We were birds of a feather, but birds a different kind

Ones that needed to share a walk together

Before flocking together in the skies

A story of a different a kind

Where pen and paper finally met

But God’s hand waited to write

Our destiny, with a light of a different kind


You see it as a stain.

I see it as a lesson.

Both bring about the same pain.

The difference lies in our perceptions.

When you see oceans,

You think of drowning.

When I see them,

The only that comes to my mind

is the beauty of discovering new lands.

Together in Selflessness: Let’s revive Karbala.

In the midst of time, Believers had gathered
At the call of “Hal Min Nasir,” 72 had answered

Together in selflessness, their ego they had shattered
They attained “Al-Mutmaina,” and nothing else mattered

Nainawa became the land of an untold prophecy
Where freedom was defined for the entire Humanity

They emptied their jealousy, their heresy, their rivalry
They brought about loyalty and wrote their own destiny

They rose above family, ethnicity, any kind of heredity
“I am a lover of Hussain,” only that was their identity

When I thought about unity, with a brush in hand
The only thing I painted, was a land full of sand

A face full of light, praying amongst arrows
Protected by dozens, all standing pharos

None of them were tied by the same blood’s chains
They shared the same faith; love ran in their veins,

They tore their own desires, and threw them in the air
As if free from themselves, they had become aware

Together in selflessness, their ego they had shattered
They attained “Al-Mutmaina,” and nothing else mattered

What lessons can we learn, dear brothers and sisters
How can we reach a state, where nothing else matters?

Today where is Karbala, and who is my enemy?
If Ashura is alive, then show me its legacy

I kept begging the Almighty, for guidance and salvation
And He sent an angel with a message for our generation

With an ayat from the Quran, the Angel began its talk,
“Behold the rope of Allah,” together you’ll be a rock

“Karbala is alive, more than it has ever been
You want to fight evil, I’ll tell you where to begin

Look into a mirror and stare in your eyes
Buried within you, in complete disguise

Deep within yourself, your ego and its lies
It grows everyday, while its your faith that dies”

You asked who’s your enemy, and where is the battlefield
You are your enemy, within you lies the battlefield

So don’t save yourself from the coming arrows,
Instead save yourself from your desire’s shadows

This evil is within you, so drop the sword in hand
Kneel down in prayers, with a rosary in hand

This is not the lesser struggle, there’s no iron spear
This is the greater one, burn it with a single tear

To defeat this enemy, don’t fight side by side
Call all your brothers, and pray side by side

When your women will rise from Zainab’s fire
When your men will wear, Abbas’ attire

When new born will cry to Ali Asghar’s bravery
When every youth will pride at Ali Akbar’s chivalry

When old men will sing songs of Habib’s cheerfulness
When free men will hail Ar-Riahi’s righteousness

Only then will we attain mutmaina, the ultimate certainty
The state where your soul rests in peace for eternity

Yes Karbala is alive, and Husain’s heir is alive
It’s a matter of time, when Al-Mahdi will arrive

Will you we be today’s Zuhair, Habib, Or Hur Ar riahi
Today’s Dulham, Rubab, or Umme Wahb al Kalbi?

Al Muntadher is waiting for his followers to gather
So on this night of Qadr, let’s write a new chapter

Let’s untie ourselves from our passions and wishes
Lets burn them together and rise from our own ashes

The Caravan of Hussain, is forever waiting
Waiting for its ansar, Al Mahdi is aching

So let’s join it together, and awaken our consciousness
Let’s join our Master together, together in selflessness