Even you

Even you are soft
like the petal turned askew
catching the morning light
like the dew of dawn glistening
on the breath of a new day
like the smile of a new mother
whose infant clutches her nose for security

Even you are strong
like the earth that holds skyscrapers
straight into the sky
like the ocean that cradles delicate ships
amidst its raging wrath
like the supernovas in the universe
that cause ripples in the cosmos
like the determined bud
that breaks asphalt to bloom

Even you are – simply said –
worthy, deserving, accepting
of love and nature’s boons
God’s soft pride in you
the Lord’s strong protection of you


Exclusive: An inspiring and moving account of Mawlana Hazar Imam’s Diamond Jubilee Darbar in Nairobi


In what felt like no time at all, it was five minutes to 11am. The ginan that was going on ended abruptly as the screens lit up with Hazar Imam’s motorcade rounding the corner at Darkhana.  Mawla’s green Audi slowed down at the entrance. The door opened. Breathing halted. Mawla alighted and salwats swelled in the hall. That jovial countenance filled the screen and it felt like he too was in a hurry to enter as he gestured to the Mukhi Kamadia and Mukhiani Kamadiani and swept into the foyer. The screens went blank and the heart started racing. He was here! The Lord of Light and love was but a glance away.

A Personal Reflection


I don’t think I can ever understand the human capacity to experience two polar opposite emotions simultaneously: indescribable happiness and also deep sadness, a profound sense of soulful quietude and also…

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Poem by Zafeera Kassam: Teri Dosti Mein…

Teri Dosti Mein… Our Best Friend is the Lord of the Worlds, King of the kings; Abundantly merciful, Endlessly generous, Extremely beautiful. Our Best Friend is the lighthouse in the dark, Beacon of hope; Ever patiently aglow, Unimaginably accepting, Here, to rid all woe. Our Best Friend is the paragon of virtue, Faultless; flawless; His […]


Legitimacy of Intent

Often, I find myself struggling.
Poetry is an exercise in baring the soul naked,
My heart is all for it, but my ego is not.
This world is a place I shy away from,
Its infinite flaws grotesque,
Its scarred nature disheartening —
How can one stand naked amidst
the leering, the jeering, the pretentious
and fight the urge to preserve one’s dignity
when such a battle comes to pass
and everyone has picked up arms without wit
and their common sense has dropped its pants instead?
Poetry is an exercise in disrobing
all the lies we layer ourselves with
but when all is said and done
where do I go to speak my fervent words
when it feels like people are content with their silence?