JAIHOON's

Muhammad came, World became

2007-04-01T08:16:00.000+04:00

Muhammad came, World became
- Jaihoon

The Creator chose Mim
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam
To inaugurate his ‘kun’

Mustafa into the world arrived
‘Fa Yakun’ has since continued

Mustafa is the ‘Bismi’
To whom all owe praise

All praise to the Merciful Him
Into this cosmos was sent Mim

All praise to the Mighty Him-
Earth so blessed, rest not

All praise to the Wise Him-
Adam’s race chosen, rest not

The world remains alive
As far as sounded is his name

Seasons come and go
His thoughts still glow

O my leader!
My savior
My love
My…

Praising you is my only means
To stay clean from inhuman stains

O Gem of this cosmos
O fragrance of Paradise

Help me, O Beloved
To describe your own greatness

I have no more words
Nor any apt lines

To perfect you praise
I undergo numerous pains

I wish to do justice
To your magnificence

O Beloved!

I wish not everyone know
The love for you I show

I play hide and seek
Such my love not leak

Yet how can I conceal
The thrill of you I feel

Your love is like musk
Its smell spreads fire-like

I have a wretched soul
I live in total disorder

I want to cry
In your love I die

Make me of your clan
May I become human

O Muhammad!

Into this world
I would not have been born
This cosmos with you
Lord did not adorn

Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

http://www.jaihoon.com/egoptics/worldbecame.htm

Sep 13 : Journal contd…

2007-02-21T08:44:00.000+04:00

Sep 13 : Journal contd…

Today at around 1pm, I left for Hyderabad, my first time ever. Accompanied by two cousins, junior and wife, the train started from Shornur on time. It was gonna be a journey of 24 hours; in the same train. We made sure the camera’s were super charged and our excitement was at its pinnacle. The journey demands a separate treatment all together. Therefore I will not spoil it by detailing in this entry. The purpose of the journey was both personal and intellectual.

Anyway the trip was indeed beneficial. All thanks to Allah.

September 12: Journal contd…

2007-02-20T09:01:00.000+04:00

September 12: Journal contd…

Today I am at home enjoying rain. I keep writing these notes, as junior keeps staring at me. Lying on the floor in his sheet, he keeps interrupting me with his laughter and play.

All praise to the Lord for the mercy descending from the skies. The people curse it, media sensationalize it. The media follows a commercial, communal or controversial approach, but not spiritual. No media interpret events in a spiritual sense. Topics like suicides, natural calamities and decay of moral fabric indeed requires a spiritual dimension of explanation. Let there be one.

Government does not have enough funds to finance everyone’s education. They can start liberalizing approvals for the private colleges. That way the oversupply will reduce the high cost. Managements will not be able to pressurize students and parents. Two, foreign universities should be let in. that will give greater exposure to the ethnocentric Keralite.

I am rather amused that the whole fuss about the college admissions happening elsewhere in the world.

Thoughts aside. I start testing my camera and other equipments for the shoot.

VideoPoetry, *ing Jaihoon

2007-02-18T10:52:00.000+04:00

Hi

Fascinated with the videocasts found online, I was just learning to do some my own stuff.

I experimented visualizing my poem, One Pain a thousand joy, on an aesthetic background from the cultural landscape of emirate of Sharjah. From now on WaveLength, as it is called, is gonna keep me busy and will have my contain my ambitions in the visual field. Already working on a short docu-film, the starting is very exciting. Gotta see how far it goes, insha Allah.

Besides poetry, there's already videos from Corporate, Politics and Culture topics.

Don't think this is really amazing, nevertheless worth sharing. Broadband users will see it going smooth, dial-up users... God is indeed with those who are patient. http://www.jaihoon.com/wavelength/onepain.htm

One pain, a thousand joy!

Walking across the bazaar one day
A bystander asked me the reason why-

'May days had passed since-
You have not composed any lines?'

Every other day a new dish I would prepare
And soulful garments for the dispirited to wear

I burn by own heart in the oven of pain
I soak my eyes in the stream of tears

These are a favor from the Lord
Which shall link them and Him with an accord

But for past few days I kept myself busy
So that the heart would not feel dizzy

I masked my pain with the worldly glitter
I chained my soul with the comfortable fetter

For a day I put my head in the worldly matters
And my heart without His Love fell into clutters

For those eyes used to reading my painful tale
May Allah bless my pen to write without fail!

What harm for one solitary heart with pain to throb and bleed-
If it shall make a thousand hearts towards Him proceed!

There is a victory in pain too-
Ah! stones plenty, Pearls so few!

Notes

These are a favor... : The eyes and heart are a blessing from Allah which is to be used in His Way, i.e. to help bring fellow beings closer to Him.

O Soul! Don't you remember?

2007-02-03T20:30:00.000+04:00

O Soul! Don't you remember?
- Jaihoon
http://www.jaihoon.com/egoptics/osoul.htm

O Soul
Don’t you remember?

Recall those days?
When in Harem you roamed

The House and the Stone
Safa and Marwa and all His signs
While I strived among the crowd
You elsewhere roamed

O Soul
Don’t you remember?

You wanted to reach Beloved
You wanted to untie all your pain

When at the Beloved you arrived
You became most happy since you lived

And then you made me cry
Tears became like rivers

O Soul
Don’t you remember?

You made me sob and weep
No control could I keep

Your joy made me weak
No more could I take

O Soul
Don’t you remember?

I walked on the streets
Like a madman let loose

Unconscious of my own being
Like a crown fell from a king

O Soul
Don’t you remember?

Love’s fragrance spread in the air,
Save the Beloved nothing seemed fair

You became so benevolent
Hands with charity was bent

Had paradise arrived so early?
Would I swim in Tasneem dearly?

But now…

What has happened
Your love for Beloved hasn’t deepened

Your tears have gone dried
Deserts more moist than your eyes

Although with Him
Have you likened none-
The gravest sin
Have you committed

The love of His Beloved
Has from you dissolved

The farther from him you move
The darker your faith would prove

Muhammad connects-
Humanity with Divinity
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

Muhammad separates
Morality from Bestiality
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

O Soul!
Madina is the only reason why
Your Lord has kept you alive

Ah! As the slave of God
Is humiliated so rude

Everywhere is his torture
Everyone love to butcher

His pride slaughtered
Conspiracy so doctored

If Lord feel for him any love
Since Mustafa’s ways he follow
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

O Soul!
You a bird
Drift not from his skies

Your only pride
That Mustafa in you reside
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

Weep in his love
Better than laughing for this world

O Soul!
Madina is the only reason why
Your Lord has kept you alive

Notes

House : Ka'ba

Stone : Hajr Al Aswad

Safa and Marwa : The two hills

Tasneem : The river in paradise

2007-01-18T09:43:00.000+04:00

How could I love you not?
(An anniversary poem)

O light of my soul
On your shoulders I lay in rest
How could I love you not?

O rose of my garden
You are prayers-full from head to toe
How could I love you not?

O coolness of my eyes
Your bosom radiates with love and care
How could I love you not?

O strength of my heart
You reassure me with confidence
How could I love you not?

O comrade of my soul
Even in the no-lie world beside me you wish to lie
How could I love you not?

After you came
Life more than dream beautiful became
How could I love you not?

They say Love makes one blind
But joy over joy did I in life find
How could I love you not?

Oh! I ask again and again
But no answer could I gain-
How could I love you not?

You and your love,
Beauty, grace and service-
All a ‘Mercy’ from Al Wadood

Then, how could I love you not?

- Jaihoon

Notes

no-lie world : The world of barzakh. No lie would be tolerated in the grave-life.

Sep 11 : Journal contd…

2006-11-14T15:48:00.000+04:00

Sep 11 : Journal contd…

The morning started with Holy Quran. I and my two cousins rushed to Calicut to meet with the publisher to discuss some last minute changes on the book. We boarded the bus, and the trip was jumpy and jammed. The road soaked in rain was like caramel cream along with the mud and sand.

At Kuttippuram when the bus stopped, we ran like wild animals towards the railway station. The people coming from the opposite side encouraged us: Vegam! Vegam! And it was obvious we were running fast, breathless.

The train had started moving. We three men ran. The onlookers looked on. We hopped and grabbed the handle as much as we could. We were standing. Well, not in the actual sense of the world. For some time I enjoyed seeing the fields and people who lived by the rail. Suddenly a thought came thundering: what about the ticket? Asthaghfirullah! But why had no one came asking for it so far? I could have paid it then and there!

Only then had I realized that the 99.99% of travelers around me were of those who made this ‘mistake’!

We landed at Calicut and finally reached the publisher’s office. We had tea and light snacks. I managed to buy a collection of works Makthi Thangal, a reformer of Malabar. After finalizing issues with the publisher, I proceeded to meet a journalist friend of mine. We discussed the details of the suicide project.

After everything was over, the train was waiting for us with no time left. Again! We stood for a while near the ticket counter, but we were sure no ticket would fall in our hands within the next one hour: such was the cue. The whistle was sounded and we were going to be grounded. We couldn’t resist. Across the platforms, over the stairs and front of the policemen and officers - we ran! Again. Into the train we hopped.

I felt bad for Uncle Laloo! How many hundreds of thousands like us were traveling with no revenue for the Nation.

God save God’s own land!

Madina is the prize lovers are after...

2006-11-13T11:05:00.000+04:00

Love is an Ocean Deep

by Jaihoon
http://www.jaihoon.com/egoptics/lovedeep.htm

Ya Rabb!

No,

To love you
so dear
I haven't
Seen you near

No,

To believe You
in fear
I haven't
Heard you clear

NO,

Of my firm belief
I know nothing
Save I have a lil'
Or more love for him

Yes,

I know I have a heart
It throbs for him of late

Yes

Oh! I know I exist
For I am of his caravan

O lovers!

If for Beloved Mustafa
You burn your heart
The forces of this world
Will fall at your feet

Sallallahu alahi wa sallam

If this colorful world
Had in it no Beloved
The garden be dull
Nightingale be lull…

O lovers!

World learnt the difference-
Between La and Illa.
No wonder why the kalima-
Ends in Muhammad Rasoolullah!

Love is an ocean deep
The more you dive-
The more treasures you heap
So much that you may return not alive

O lovers!

Ask me not what the love-
Of Madina does to your heart!

It conquers all your present strength
And then sets afire to every hair on you

Your veins reverberate with zeal
A spark lightens burden of the soul

There may be many others-
Ones who your love deserves

But,

Believe me the love of Madina
Is of another kind
When it enters your soul
The difference you shall find!

It is like a comforting wind
From the rivers of paradise

Nay, I said it wrong!

Those rivers are
Themselves in ecstasy
For Madina is for
All worlds His Mercy!

This temporal world
And the hereafter-
Madina is the prize
What lovers are after!

Ya Rabb!

Sometimes I utter words
Which cross the limits

Yet give me some excuse
To continue my poetic exercise

Take me not into account
On these crazy lines' ground

The tyrants across the lands
Commit murderous deeds

Women and children die-
As rotten leaves their bodies lie

For the sake of earth's crude wealth
The able and weak both remain silent

No one cares damn about this excess
Their own wealth is to all that matters

Therefore,

Take me not into account
On these crazy lines' ground

For love's sake
Forgive this little sin

For love's sake
Forgive me once again

For love's sake-
Till I die may I write again!

Notes

Between La and Illa : Refers to the formula, La ilaha illallah, Muhammudur Rasoolullah (There is no God but Allah, Muhammad is his Messenger). Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam.

Sep 10 : Journal contd...

2006-11-02T16:00:00.000+04:00

In the morning there was plenty of rain. Body and mind was relieved. Masha Allah, it was indeed a joy to sit on the varendah and enjoy it with junior in my arms. Both son and dad held each other tight to experience the last show od Monsoon.

The second half of the day was dedicated to meet the family members including grandmas, maternal and paternal uncles and aunts and the army of cousins in exxxtended family circle.

This was my first stay in Kerala after junior was born. Plus, since his mom was busy in cooking and cleaning the home, we had to look after each other. Like me, he cannot stay in peace in one state for long. Dynamism is ingrained in his blood too, I think. If forced to one lenghty situation, he will start protesting, first silently, then violently.

Sep 9 2006 : Journal of Vacation Trip 2006

2006-10-31T15:19:00.000+04:00

Sep 9 2006

The Air Arabia flight arrived around Maghrib time at the Nedumbassery International flight. The flight had begun with the announcement of the "subhanalladhi sakhar lana" dua which is recited in the beginning of the travel. This was the first time I had experienced such a phenomenon. Seating was very spacious and comfortable. And the plane was a lot empty!

As I stepped out of the plane, raindrops fell on my cheeks. I welcomed the Cool Breeze and descended the steps of the plane greeting, السلام عليكم يا بلاد الهند

The duty-free shop at the Airport had a giant legendary art figure to welcome the travelers with ONAM greetings. On the visible sight was also grand alcohol bottles as well as other imported consumer goods. May God save God's own land!

The slight rain continued as we stepped into the car. The route was jerky, as usual, like in other parts of Kerala. On the way, a drunken man was walking oscilating between sense and non-sense. The loyal customers are seen standing in que in front of the bars: it was a saturday night and next day was a holiday. So everyone was getting ready to enjoy in God's own land... Jesus Christ standing glass-cage in front of the churches, while the 'sheeps' are enjoying drunk on the roads and homes. Cars and other vehicles are driving recklessly... and no one seems to have a problem with anything.

Forget the corrupt Right, but 'tis a wonder why the Leftist folks have never raised 'alcoholism' to be an issue. The popular heroic chief minister not for once accused it as a trouble-maker in the state. Even religious organizations- conservative, liberal or extremist- do not find anything wrong with it at all! Every other institution is silently nodding its head in helpless approval for this social evil.

Sad! May God save God's own land!

But You..., none but You!

2006-10-29T15:07:00.000+04:00

Vent of an Uprooted Tent

What happened all these days?
Whomto had I turned my face?
Why did I drink from cup else?
When came over my soul these curls?

My faith’s tree fell upside down
I forgot the way to His town

Without a living soul
I turned to a rock
Even worms that crawl
Shunned my barren heart

I searched for the attributes of Adam
For, I could not recall nature of my being

I imitated the cry of a living man
But not a drop of tear in my eye came

My mind would not stay in a place
Jolting as a ferry caught in hurricane’s arms

I tried to cure my pain with ways diverse
I consumed with hope many kind of tonics

I pinned my hope on all but the true Cure
Who but Him could heal me for sure

I ran in shame from those who believed
(For), the stream of my heart elsewhere flowed

The hypocrite was more sincere in his deeds
I failed to move the rosary at par with his beads

Not even in the dream could I hear
The music of the Sage in rest at Lahore

While His slaves around danced
In the abundant rain of His mercy-
My cup was empty and broken
Even tears flowed not to quench

I fell out of His Grace
I hurt myself with sins!

I did get much love from my folk
Their lips were busy with my talk

But that did me no good
I starved for another food

Though many envied my joyful face
I covered the dirt of my wretched soul

Tonight when I laid crying in sujud
His Compassion covered me in tears
I opened my heart’s wounds before Him
I begged for the cure with His 'Rahm'

In secret and in joy did I wail
Such pain: my face turned pale-

“Ya Rabb! Where else to knock
But on the door of Malikul Mulk!

This beggar feels like a king
When in your thought a tear I bring!

But You,
All love are in vain,

But You
All comforts are but pain

But You...,
None but You"

O Reader!
These are just lines of a hypocrite’s joy
They aren’t of any worth for you to enjoy

Look not up to me for any lessons great
Wise ones ought not care for fools’ talk

Leave me alone to rant and vent
The silly story of my uprooted tent

- Jaihoon
http://www.jaihoon.com/egoptics/vent.htm

This and more by the grace of 'My Merciful Him'!

2006-09-03T08:57:00.000+04:00

سلام عليكم

August has passed in a spark. This time summer hasn't been as wild as last year. My colleagues are returning one by one after spending their vacation.

What else more excitement can there be with a forthcoming vacation to Kerala, packed with projects which has stolen my peace of mind well ahead of my trip. This time 'tis gonna be with video, mic, lights, script etc.

I've been getting real hard with life, such that my colleague has advised me to have mercy on my self!

An award nomination has come knocking on Jaihoon's doors by the grace of Almighty. Another documentary is planned in full scale. Malayalam book is due in Sep mid. An entry into the world of audio is also thought of. A trip to the Nizam's city is also under consideration... insha Allah.

I ain't sure if I can post here once I am there. Nevertheless, I will make all possible attempts.

This and more by the grace of 'My Merciful Him'!

Adventures with Visual Media

2006-08-15T08:06:00.000+04:00

السلام عليكم

Past week has been extremely busy with a project based on visual media. Sleep is covered hardly 3 hours a day. The 30-days schduled program is far-reaching and has many highlights of its own. Although I am just a contributing force for the show, I am equally involved in its marketing and cordination efforts. The executives of the project suggests that my literary skills would be a major asset for them, besides my multi-cultural acquaintances in the society.

Nevertheless, I am still excited about my forthcoming trip to Kerala, insha Allah. The malayalam translation due to be launched is a long-cherished dream. It will make my parents and grandmas more happy than myself. It is a chance for them to understand the stuff I scribble about.

The second edition of The Cool Breeze saw a sudden turn- with a new cover design which is more colorful and naturally serene. The idea flashed as I was trying to get some sleep in the afternoon. All I did was jump out of the bed and call the artist...

May Allah make it easy for me and the rest of the world.

Jibreel Stops a Lover at Madina's Gate

2006-08-03T14:14:00.000+04:00

Jibreel Stops a Lover at Madina's Gate
by Jaihoon

Part I
Question

My caravan was passing to Madina
After completing the rites at Mecca

All in the caravan were overjoyed
Rawadha was going to be eyed

My heart began to quake
My legs began to shake

My fortune to enter this place-
For lovers on earth is this paradise

Just then I heard an angelic voice
When looked, I saw Jibreel’s face

He stopped me at Yathrib’s gate
And asked the reason why I’s late

“You claim to hold Beloved dear
Why then was he not for you prior

You have come to see him at end
In the well of your love is a dent

Love is the first, last and foremost
The position is retained at any cost

Lord began with Light of Beloved
Thereafter the rest in order followed

What excuse do you then have
To claim for Mustafa any love?
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

Part II
Reply

“O the Trusted slave of Rabb-al-Alameen
O affectionate confidant of Rahmath-al-Alameen**

In your mighty words lies a heavy truth
But heed to my tale before me you loathe

In day and night have I sinned
All my senses have I stained

My body is filthy
I smell of sins

My eyes are dirty
Of evil glance

My tongue is guilty
Of untrue words

Therefore,

Therefore I wanted to undo
The dirt of sins I did so far do

Therefore I drank of Zamzam
To clean my lips and tongue

Across Safa and Marwa I ran
So that,
Like Hajra***-
My feet in virtue be swollen

I rubbed hands over al-aswad
So that they shine like a sword

I rounded His House several times
So that my each atom with love radiates

Half-belief is it to remain pure*
Thus shall I come to Beloved near

O the Trusted slave of Rabb-al-Alameen,
O affectionate confidant of Rahmath-al-Alameen!

Do you remember Beloved's washed
Before to the skies had he reached

Just as to the Lord was his Mi’raj
Reaching Rawdha is my highest stage

Therefore here I am wholly purified
Allow me to walk to Heaven’s Beloved”

Part III
To Tasbih

The trial of love
Is to fight forgetfulness
At all moments flow
Zamzam of his love

Space and Time
Are attuned to his ways
Directions 're determined
With him at center

Gold and gems
And Everything precious-
Graded in his comparison, yet-
Humility’s his supreme greatness.

O Tasbih!

If I feel for you anything-
They call love
It is cause of the spread
Of Rahmath-lil-Alameen!

Ah!
I simply wish
That my soul parts
As my pen runs
In his applause

I never consider myself
A content lover
I relate this tale for other-
Lovers to ponder

I repeat after Lahori***
My own verses I bury:

“Mustafa is the strength of my heart
A lil’ more than Lord, is he dear to my heart”

Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam.

Notes

The poem is based on the poet's Umrah pilgrimage undertaken in end of 2003 .

* “Purity is half of faith”: A hadith related by Muslim

** Mercy to All Worlds, a title given by Quran to the Holy Prophet

*** Wife of Prophet Ibrahim (as) and mother of Prophet Ismail (as)

****Allama Iqbal

Hope, Rain & Love

2006-08-01T14:50:00.000+04:00

After many days of mist and heat, today is pretty cool in here. I swear all hearts in UAE must be wishing for rain in the bottom of their hearts. Rumors are on that certain parts are already wet with showers. Another friend said he saw drops on the car’s windowpane. All my colleagues are consciously or subconsciously looking out of the window…

Being part of the same psychological habitat, I too can’t help wishing for it. Like a lover waiting holding his breath after his proposing to his adorable beloved, unsure what her response would be, I too am in an excited pause: a drop!

Many of us have different memories associated with rain. For some, it reminds us of our carefree childhood days or playful school years or for some it may be something terrible like slippery accidents or leaking rooftops! For others, it reminds them of those precious moments spent with their dear ones.

So... will it rain? I wish!

Hunters the artists are, Not prey!

2006-07-25T08:25:00.000+04:00

Al hamdu lillah, there has sbeen considerable progress on the new Malayalam book project. The cover design is done in state of the art style. There is charm and appeal for both eyes and heart. Almost three weeks of day-night deliberations, the artist was also tirelessly enthusiastic for its perfection.

When all was done, I could only thank and glorify Allah that it was destined to be so! Subhanallah!

This design is expected to be first of its kind in Kerala's publishing industry. A new genre blending Persian Mysticism with modern symbols. The graphic details are well suited to the title, which is yet to be made public.

The process of Art is pretty, but more beautiful is the concept of it. And the new technology, especially with Adobe's Creative Series, makes life easy. but one should remember that the idea which originate sin the heart of man is more precious than the expression of it on the screen or canvas.

So said Iqbal (himself a talented calligrapher)

Hunters the artists are,
Not the prey

May Almighty guide all the artists on the planet for contributing peace and sereniety. اّمين

My Poetic Wine from Madina’s Grapevine

2006-07-19T14:50:00.000+04:00

The poem is in reference to comments of one reader (on this blog) about another poem of mine which he found distasteful, since it dealt with the romantic love of the poet's lover. The poet regrets that a shift from his usual subjects, of God and His Beloved, seemed disturbing for his readers and assures them his soul of poetry is still rooted on the ‘same old wine’. He admits his own human weakness and begs the sincere readers for the same positive criticism in the future also.

Addressed to those dismayed with Jaihoon’s change in style

Last night an argument
Unfolded at the tavern
Their faces away turned
As they made anger plain

They felt at unease-
As the wine’s was taste else

‘Not the same as past
The ecstasy not lasts!’

Serve us the same old wine
Else with you we shall not dine

We are used
To your old Love
No other spade
Can our hearts plough’

I asked Him
For His Forgiveness!
I prayed to Him
For His guidance!

It was my own fault
For the trouble wrought

For the sake of change
I’d served another range

When lost-
In the rapture of love
I tossed-
A drink for my lady love

I was in a state
Of painful strain
My heart
In her dearth in strain

Yaqub always cried
For the separated Yusuf
Though his Lord
Was for him dear enough

I am a human-
After all!
To feel pain
Isn’t a sin at all!

My wine flows
From the well of heart
It has flaws
As others from under the earth

I am a shy-
Crazy fledgling
To wisely fly-
Am I just learning

‘Tis a truth real
I am hardly familiar
With paths of Jilan or Gazzal
I have knowledge not clear

My Friend
Is not from Tabrez
My Word
Is not from Shiraz

I ‘hold on
To my tiny being’
So that of smoke-
I become not a ring

O those who assemble
Near Jaihoon’s table!

It is your care
Which makes me dare
To serve you better
The drink of Madina’s master!

Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

Your sincere protest
Is my confidence
Feel free to detest
When you are upset

If I serve you in repeat
Wine of other sort
Throw the cup at-
The face of poet!

My poetic wine
Finds its true soul
From the grapevine
Sown on Madina’s soil

Ya Mustafa!
Ya Mustafa!
Ya Mustafa!

The cosmos is
Never, ever exhausted
(Even if) Your praise is
A zillion times repeated!

Such blessed fortune
Is mine alone!
To suffer shame and blame
When away from you I turn!

The letters I was taught
At my mother’s lap and school
For your loving tribute
Shall I employ as a lavish tool

If I am not blessed
Due to the deeds I lacked
From al-Kawthar
I’d be barred
From a distance
Your face’d be looked

O Beloved!

The meaning
Of Love are you!
The synonym
Of Beauty are you!

O Muhammad!
Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

No, I shall not wipe
The tears which flow
As I these lines I write
In the pain of your love

I save it
For the future
To keep it
As a fortune

To see the rivers
Of sweet Heaven
These salty drops
May become a reason?

O those who assemble
Near Jaihoon’s table!

It is your care
Which makes me dare
To serve you better
The drink of Madina’s master!

- Jaihoon

See http://www.jaihoon.com/egoptics/grapevine.htm for more details

2006-07-18T06:11:00.000+04:00

So old, yet beat me in humility through word and deed

Mohammed Zahirudheen, Vice President of Iqbal Academy Hyderabad, has left for Hyderabad. Meetings with him were memorable and inspirational. Being so old, he would still beat me in humility, in word and deed. Although details of his discussions are too precious to be shared publicly, he would embarrass me at times by expressing his admiration for my activism.

He showed me many more innovative ways in the appreciation of Allama Iqbal’s thoughts and works. He also fired a new wave of creativity by revealing new domains within my own works where I could improve and expand the ideas. He was always liberal to discuss various issues and clear doubts. He would tirelessly talk on implications of Iqbal’s thoughts with relevance to modern context, including the real estate craze which has taken the Arabian Peninsula by craze.

Today afternoon, I was surprised when I received a call in middle of sleep from an Urdu scholar and activist from Kerala. He told me that I was referred to by Mr Zahirudhin from Hyderabad. I then realized how seriously the scholar had taken my casual request and the speed he acted upon it. Within a day of reaching Hyderabad from Sharjah, he bothered to get it done (although he had landed there at a critical situation - the death of the President of Iqbal Academy, Prof Syed Sirajudheen.)

It is my fortune that Mr. Zahirudheen, who could be relatively considered a selfless ascetic scholar in this materialistic era, generously gave a Foreword for my upcoming second edition of The Cool Breeze From Hind.

May Allah grant him more years of health and wisdom.

اللهم اشرح لي صدري ويسر لي امري. اّمين

2006-07-11T08:23:00.000+04:00

'Sleepy' joy!

I have been losing sleep since last 10 days... a promise I had made to have an essay written for submitting to a Review journal. Al these days I was behaving like a zombie, with toal messed up short-term memory and fatigue. After much struggle, I was able to complete it by the grace of Almighty.

And now, al hamdu lillah, I feel relieved and happy... thinking of having some good sleep to compensate the lost hours... but I am sure that this wish would be defeated by another sel-styled ambition of another dimension.

Life is a struggle. Those who think that they are enjoying it are also in a struggle as they they cannot stop from enjoying it!

Thus said Allama Iqbal, my ego-mending Mentor-

Life means a passsionate burning
An urge to make
To cast in the dead clay
The seed of a heart!

2006-07-05T10:36:00.000+04:00

FORGET it

My hand moved to call my love
But for get it

I rushed home from the busy world
But forget it

I rubbed my blurred eyes
But forget it

I danced in joy with your mirage
But forget it

I enjoyed your face in sleep
But forget it

I jumped while in my dream
But forget it

I held the pillow close to heart
But forget it

I held my breath
But forget it

O compassionate Shirin!
Your Farhad is in pain!

O passionate Leila
Majnun’s gone pale, ah!

Your absence kills me-
Inch by inch

My soul suffers
Bit by bit

My senses shatter
One by one

If not by your presence,
Heal me by means else!

Jaihoon untied his bonded sorrows-
For her to know
But now...
FORGET it!

2006-07-03T21:00:00.000+04:00

'Stable Instability'

السلام عليكم

Even before starting this blog, I was more than sure that I wouldn't be able to do justice for the practce of blogging, i.e., having it updated daily.

The month of June witnessed more offline tasks than online. Meeting with friends and strangers in the Media world has been more frequent. The world of Audio production has been enticing this restless bud since some time now. The unfamiliarity with the instruments and the techniques in singing, the studio etiquettes- blah, blah- is making me less self-confident. Like a baby crying of huger, not knowing what diet it wants...

The other day I wrote my friend that the only thing stable about Jaihoon is his instability. Can't say it is beacoz of my innate nature or acquired from the influence of Tommorrow's Poet- the vibrant zeal and dynamism spread throughout his works.

There is a write-up promised for someone to be published in a Review journal. The preparation is slow, but the ambition is high. May Allah help...

The amount of sleep hours has reduced considerably, although I am paying its price dearly. Since family has left for vacation, I stretch the mind and body to the maximum extend, and a lil more. May Allah forgive the excess.

Iraq bombings have become so common, it hardly creates any concern nowadays. Those in authority... let them solve their own accounts with the Merciful Almighty. Dua is all I can sacrifice for the brothers and sisters dying there...

Today is Monday.... اللهم صل على محمد

2006-06-06T11:29:00.000+04:00

Water, Water and Water

The summer is accelerating here in the Emirates much more than expected. It is humid and burning, even in the night, as if one is cooked in an oven! But then it must be good for other living forms around (including plants and animals) which is why Creator is allowing it to happen! Yesterday when meeting an old school buddy he mentioned his investment share in a newly acquired drinking water factory. Water, the source of life, is going to attract (and distract) a lot many political and economic attention. According to recently published cover story written by editor of a leading newspaper, the no-scent, no-color liquid would be a cause for major confrontation in the Middle East. The single powerful Jewish state and their weak Arab neighbors will have plenty of drinking water-related problems.

Water, water everywhere,
Not a drop to drink is found anywhere…

Sang Mahatma when he visited Kerala in those freedom struggle days.

It is ironic that monsoon rains stormed Kerala just when the newly elected Leftist government was making plans to deal with drinking water shortage. The children get back to school in June soaked in rain. It refreshes their head and heart, no matter if it means headache for the grown-ups.

Talking about water again, I recall lines of my own poem, Sweet Seller in Paradise, dedicated to the Holy Prophet sallallahu alaihi wa sallam

The gardens became fragrant from his scent
Water got no-color tint from his matchless paint

http://jaihoon.com/egoptics/sweetseller.htm

2006-05-24T09:04:00.000+04:00

السلام عليكم

The previous two weeks have been busy with personal and social engagements.

The coming of Musawwir has brought in bright colors of joy and expectations. Humans dream on, building one over the other. And then one stumbles, he is in tears. The bounty of Allah is great and a lot. May Allah grant everyone his or hers wishes.

Frequent meetings with Mr. Mohammed Zahirudheen, vp of Iqbal Academy Hyderabad, has also been rewarding. The aged scholar is here on a personal visit and though feel sorry to trouble him, he has enjoyed my company as well. His remarks on my work, the Cool Breeze from Hind, made me glorify Allah. Those comments are among the best and rarest I have so far come across.

Masha Allah! We humans know so little... We have been given so little from knowledge.

But our heart... this can contain a lot... even the Creator. اللهم نوًر قلوبنا

The deccan thinker has a rare abilityto link Iqbal's philosophy with spirit of the Quran. He suffers from sugar-salt diseases, age-related problems... but Iqbalian poetry energizes him more than youths like me.

2006-05-17T13:26:00.000+04:00

السلام عليكم

Home, Office and Deen...

Office hours are having a major bite from our lifespan. After a pressuresome office work, we reach home, with our workload still hovering on the mind. The family members's rights have to be honored, and so are the rights of our creditors- goverment departments, telecommunication companies, banks, hospitals...

Thus with all billed paid and scores settled, what would remain at the desposal of the slave of God for his Creator?

If we were to decide that we would turn to Him ONLY when we are done with every other engagements, alas! That would never happen in our lives.

I have come across many who postpone their obligatory prayers until they are done from office and all other engagements. But the challenge of Islamic lifestyle is to answer His call WHEN He calls! The key factor is obedience without delay!

Jaihoon suggests not to segregate deen from office or home settings. Gain the maximum Deen mileage while working in the office- get your hands on performing maximum sunnah- smile to customers, greet your colleagues, praise Allah, do dua... Keep Holy Prophet sallallahu alaihi wa sallam in your mind as you do these acts.

Don't wait to get back home to remember Allah.

His Zikr is the sweetest
In times we are the busiest

2006-05-07T01:20:00.000+04:00

Jaihoon Jr.

Al hamdu lilah. At 2.20pm May 6 2006 was born my first baby.

It was unexpectedly earlier than the expected date. Both were fine, al hamdu lillah. I and my mom were sitting for hours to hear any news from the Doc. But she kept saying 'not yet'. I kept reading the Quran while my mother was in constant dua. Also, my wife had the fortune of winning the hearts and duas of many of her friends and relatives.

Finally, when it was all over, we had no words to express our joy.

It was a boy. In glowing rosy-red color. Bismillahi Masha Allah. I myself recited adhaan and iqamah in his years. And a whisper of Madina's greeting, sallallahu alaihi wa sallam.

Such a moment may be special for every father on this planet.

As soon as I heard the good news, I said to the giver of glad-tidings:

بشرك الله الخير في الدنيا والأخرة وسلمك الله في الدنيا ولأخرة

As for myself, الحمد للله اللذي بنعمته تتم الصالحات.

May Allah bless us all with righteous offsprings. اّمين

2006-05-03T16:00:00.000+04:00

Keeping Madina alive @ the office

Office is a place where we even forget to breathe properly, let alone remember our religious rituals. We forget our own hunger and thirst, even the affiars of our family and friends.

So the only solution to beat this issue, partly if not fully, is to place 'signboards' in places where our eyes look at.

I have put a desktop wallpaper of Masjid Nabawi on my screen. Whenever I reach office and switch on my 'work-engine', the first thing I see after the booting is this serene sight!

Sallallahu ala Muhammad Sallallahu alaihi wa sallam!

الصلوات والسلام عليك يا رسول الله

Whenever I get back after any intervals (prayer, breakfast-lunch,) and unlock the WindowsXP security window, the same the same sight!

Besides the reward gained from such recitations, it is another source of relief for the aching mind and exhausted body.

Other placements for Madina can be on the calenders, daily schedule diaries, wall paintings, etc.

That's my way of keeping Madina alive at the office.

Today is a Wednesday. The next two days are off. Have to grab the best of Time. With three projects running simultaneously, only Lord can make it possible. Wish I had some 'bonus' Time beyond the death-moment...

Waqt-e-fursat hai kahan, kaam abhi bhi baaqi hai

2006-05-02T10:09:00.000+04:00

In-your-Shop parking: Accidental, but ironic

I had mixed feelings when i read this news item on a daily's online section. Strange how it happened that way. I only recall such scenes in movies, but then this incident once again proved that art is only a reflection of life!

SHARJAH — A car crashed into a textile shop in Rolla yesterday causing severe damage to the shop when the driver accidently pressed the accelerator while she was trying to park her car near the shop.
The unidentified woman, smashed in to Parilok textiles near Sharjah Cinema in Rolla, breaking the window panes and completely getting into the showroom, eyewitnesses said.
"I was passing by and I saw a woman trying to park her Toyota Rav4 car near the textile shop. Suddenly the car went in to the shop. I think she pressed the accelerator accidently. The car went completely into the shop," a witness to the incident said, adding that three men who were inside the shop escaped unhurt.
"This is the first time in my life I saw a car smashing into the shop completely. Police arrived on the spot immediately and removed the car from the shop. The police did not confiscate the car but filed a case," he said.He said that the window panes of the shop were completely broken and the car went over the fabrics which were displayed in the shop.
http://khaleejtimes.com/DisplayArticle.asp?xfile=data/theuae/2006/May/theuae_May33.xml&section=theuae

2006-05-02T09:37:00.000+04:00

The best thing on 28th Birthday

The month of Rabi-ul-Awwal has passed away. For many, it rekindled the burning memories of Allah's Beloved Messenger sallallahu alaihi wa sallam. Our mind and heart continue to reverberate with the thoughts of Madina' Sultan, sallallahu alaihi wa sallam.

We continue to sleep, awake, bathe, eat and drink, smile and greet at our fellow beings, pray the prescribed times. as per the ways he taught us. This is not to say that his memories are restricted for a month of the year. His is a name which shall never be forgotten in any era, past or future. "All the radiant moments of Time, Pass below the shade of his name". Our love for His Beloved increases when we learn how much he loved us and prayed for our well-being. We would scream with joy, just as his favorite wife did once. His greatness rises as Time progresses.

He is Almighty's mercy-filled gift for His creations, man and all other forms of life. Pleading to Lord for the love of that beloved and to follow his ways are by itself the prayer for paradise.

Writing this poem was perhaps the best thing that happened on my 28th birthday. My only prayer that I could write more, a thousand more, in the coming years.

Love-smitten, Paradise too little to desire

I

Last night sheikh shared with me a secret
From then did I learn my life was sacred
I realized the worth of my dust
I recalled my pledge given at ‘Alast’

“Siddiqa one day became much overjoyed
Unable to rein her ecstasy she screamed

Mustafa asked her the cause for such gala
(She replied)
‘Today I have won your special dua!’
sallallahu alaihi wa sallam.

Lord’s Beloved then smiled and divulged-
‘Times five a day do I pray for those believed (in me)”

O Lord of the worlds!
O one who hear my words!

I am confused!
In what words, in which tongue?

How much… how, how much?
How far with this news shall my joy reach?

He was not named in jest or haste
Never in Time shall his name be lost

All the radiant moments of Time
Pass below the shade of his name

Indeed Lord cheered him saying-
‘Your latter shall be better than former’

His degree rises from good to better
From days of-
Alast to Adam to Ardh to Barzakh
From days of
Wheel to paper to machines to chip

We will find his praised name
Whichever page we turn in Time

II

‘Ar-Rahman’ is derived from ‘rahm’
He placed it in every mother’s belly

Her love for the child one can’t measure
She fondles her child like a treasure

Now imagine the mercy of Ar-Rahman
Times seventy or more dear to Him is Man

Such a Lord sent His Beloved 'Al Amin'
Calling Him the Mercy for the Alameen

Not for the world of Man alone
But for all creations ever born

On the morrow if a new world is found
Consider him to there too as Mercy sent

O reader! Do not mistake these lines for his praise
All this sinner did is his love-filled anguish release

These lines were destined to be nevertheless written
My fortune : it flowed through my pen love-smitten

O reader!
Greet that Beloved with your heart
See your burdens becoming light

Ya Rabb!
Your beloved is power
His love is like fire

Mustafa when turns my desire
Paradise is too little to desire

sallallahu alaihi wa sallam.

originally posted at http://www.jaihoon.com/egoptics/lovesmitten.htm