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♫ Ramadhan Rhapsody

In the name of God, compassionate & merciful بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمنِ الرَّحِيمِ | Peace be with you السلام عليكم
Originally for Muslims in England.com, from my post on Muslimness.com.

Date: August/Ramadan '09

Justification: A lyrical illness struck me midway in Ramadan so this is mostly the delusional result of abstinence.

Prepare for an epic tale for I have a ranting wrath in my head,

Each event and story I shall retell as I led,

I'm in a lyrical state of mind, and each word, each line,

Forgive me, I cannot help but oblige they all rhyme...

Alhamdulillah for fasting, I adore it, I do,

It removes my negativity, shows me who,

I really am, a light developed therein, and oh, such hidden strength within.
But today's Sunday siyaam flooded my world in a

Sehri appeared, at 3.56; I ate cornflakes and drank milk (
there was no Weetabix).
Sluggishly I sat on the floor for salat, tasbih and tiredness without prayer mat.
Sleep I did lose and a headache broke out, it
thundered and echoed, to my temperament it flout.

I dropped asleep lopsided, woke up twisted in knots and late.
Disliking the moodiness, for dhuhr salah I did wait.

Eyes bleary and mouth dry, I took headscarf and car key,
Baby Ghustaph (ha ha) I travelled to see.
Masha'Allah I whispered, what a looker, wrapped in white;
He slurped on my finger, I
grinned in delight.

We wished to call him
Hamza, Benyamin or Isaa',
Give him a prophet name we suggested, instead of after a racecar...

"Oh fair aunty, as I am single and carefree,
Would you as his mother, listen to my request care'fully;
Upon coming of age, perhaps when mature
or more,
I request this baby's hand in marriage! Thus, therefore,
While the age leap is significant and others will plea,
Marry me this handsome boy,
to me! To me!"

I waited as the fair aunty thought over my scheme...
BANG! She hit me "don't be daft". -shrug- I can dream...

An uncle came over, told me how cool my work is.
We argued: my definition of
'convert' versus his.
He felt 'revert' was a more appropriate term,
To newbie Muslims; I agreed but a tiny worm
In my head spat out: People define us by names,
Labels and titles, it just
depends on our aims...

Join me in my
Muslimness I suggested with glee,
The uncle nodded, but what shalt we name thee?
We juggled with pseydonyms, silly and humerous too,
And ping! We agreed to use
"The Mamu".

An hour later as I sat on that couch,
Taking photos of family,
I felt such a grouch.
A neighbourly visitor brought their greetings and son,
Praise the Lord, his pixie ears and grey eyes,
'Brother, well done!'

Am I envious of his joy and young freshly fresh boy?
Nay, I refuse to divulge in jealousy.
I - am - coy (!)
Two years younger than me, he has a family, he is maturer, and bold;
And yet again, I am the vixen, my bones are marrowless, my blood is cold...

Further to the end of the 9th fast on this eve,
I helped my extended family and rolled up each sleeve.
Kebabs were grilled, salads chopped and chilled,
At 7.45 I rushed home, my own Iftar meal to build.


More shaped 'roti' was made, I'm quite a continental cook!
I meticulously fried 'pakorey' (
albeit following a book).
Nonetheless, the fried fatty foods tasted good.
Dipped in herb sauces, tasting like my childhood,

I did not eat well, forlorn and grumpy.
I took to my quarters, felt depressed and yes,
At 10pm a platter of sandwiches I ate,
Tea with dunked cookies,
starved, I licked everything, and plate.

I log into cyber world and wish people well,
Ramadan Creams! ring online like a bell.
A funny little brother posted a poem on a '
It tickled my taste buds and I sighed,
Asian joker.

Here I include the ditty witty lines.
Fortunately they too are filled with strange rhymes:

Oh Samosa, how I love you samosa!
As you lie on the plate, I just want you closer,
How crispy and delicate your smooth pastry shell,
Pass the sauce, pass the dip, pass the chutney as well.

Oh Samosa not for me are those funny 'pakoras',
Weird looking and jagged, those savoury hor'rors,
With my appetite daily, I wrestle and wrangle,
For you... my beloved, pastry tri'angle.

Oh Samosa! to the "healthies" pay no heed!
So what if you're fried, you're
just what I need.
A long day's fasting is no better broken,
Than a delicious samosa just cooked and smokin'!


Now, I bid you a poetic salam,

My grey mood, my Ramadan blues are back,
so haram.
I don't know, perhaps it is a lack of trust,
In Allah almighty that I fall back and 'cuss'.

May you find your 10th fast fill with
good work and blessing.
I'm off to make extra salah to stop mucho stressing.

May Allah be with you, accept your fasts and
reward you in buckets,

somewhat misanthropy, reaching for taqwah, ah f-forget it...

Zaufishan's Muslimness

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