Monday, January 9, 2012

Islamic Story...Allah does exist

A man went to a barbershop to have his hair cut and his beard trimmed. As the barber began to work, they began to have a good conversation. They talked about so many things and various subjects.

When they eventually touched on the subject of God, the barber said: "I
don't believe that God exists."

"Why do you say that?" asked the customer.

"Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist. Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving a God who would allow all of these things."

The customer thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument. The barber finished his job and the customer left the shop. Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and unkempt.

The customer turned back and entered the barber shop again and he said to the barber: "You know what? Barbers do not exist."

"How can you say that?" asked the surprised barber. "I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!"

"No!" the customer exclaimed. "Barbers don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside."

"Ah, but barbers DO exist! What happens is, people do not come to me."

"Exactly!"- affirmed the customer. "That's the point! God, too, DOES exist! What happens, is, people don't go to Him and do not look for him.

Poem : Psalms Of Life

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, however pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, --act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God overhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.

By : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Poem : Paradise

Whatever we do, we’ll pay the price
In the depths of hell or in paradise
For the believer ,this life is just like a cage
For the unbeliever, it’s the ultimate stage
Little does he know about the awaiting reward
Which is full of luxuries, where no-one gets bored
You’ll enter the gate of paradise, if it’s in your fate
Your deeds and actions will determine by which gate
No worldly things will you ever miss
On entering the gate, you’ll be surrounded by bliss
Four rivers will be granted by the Divine
containing water and milk, honey and wine
People will live in mansions built high
Where they’ll live forever, no-one will die
It’s bricks will be made of silver and gold
The climate will be perfect, not hot and not cold
A hundred years it will take to circle a tree
Surrounded by loved ones for all eternity
There will be no calls of nature, no-one will sleep
There will be no worries, no one will weep
When people sweat, it will smell of musk
Allah swt will be praised from dawn till dusk
Everyone will be aged 30 or 33
And they’ll stay at that age for eternity
The inhabitants will be wearing a beautiful green gown
Sitting on thrones, wearing a crown
People will be happy, there’ll be no remorse
To visit others, they’ll have a flying horse
Men will have 2 houris as their wives
Who will remain with them for the rest of their lives
On Friday there will be a dinner for people of all races
And a bazaar where people can exchange their faces!
When walking along there’ll be many meetings
With prophets and angels, exchanging greetings
Such is the ecstasy that will then prevail
When Allah swt removes His veil
There will be no kings, there will be no peasants
And everyone will see the Divine Allah’s presence
There are 100 levels to paradise and we should pray
That Al Firdaus, the highest will be where we stay
Allah swt has showered us with His grace
And we have to be worthy to show our face
Whatever we do ,we’ll pay the price
In the depths of hell or in paradise...

Poem : Path Of Islam

Allah! Our Creator! All Knower, All Wise!
Master is HE of Earth and Paradise.
No partner, no family, no kith nor kin;
HE is the creator of mankind and jinn.

Muhammad(saw),the Final messenger;
A friend to all, he was no stranger.
The word of Allah, he did proclaim;
A man of courage, honour and fame.

When Gabriel descended, the Quran was revealed;
Muhammad(saw) was shaken, his lips were sealed.
Slowly, he knew why the Quran was sent;
the truth in it and what it meant.

He invited the people, far and near;
to embrace Islam without any fear.
He was mocked by the people and called a liar;
Little did they know, their abode was Hell-fire.

Muhammad (saw) went on, you could never see him cease;
His love for Allah never did decrease.
He fought many battles, took no defeat;
The enemies of Islam were forced to retreat.

The word of Allah spread far and wide;
Muslims took Quran as a sign and a guide.
Islam is our wealth, Quran our treasure;
Our love for Allah, no one can measure.

Poem about Prophet Muhammed (saw)

My beloved (Prophet Muhammad)
by Anonymous

There was a time in my youth,
When Islam was only a custom.
They said "say La IIaha IIIa Allah,..
And pray, you'll go to Heaven."

Ah, how simple, no struggle in this,
Just a word, and simple act.
Thereafter I'm absorbed in this world again,
With my 'assured' place in Paradise intact.

But this was not to be my fate
For ALLAH chose to guide my heart.
I learnt of a man who struggled so hard
When his mission was from the start.

Spoke gently, kindness he knew.
Never fearing to say what's right,
His conviction in ISLAM was true.

The touch of his hand was as soft as silk
To comfort a crying child.
To mend his clothes, or do the chores,
Never complaining, he always smiled.

A living he made with his bare hands,
The same that held his mighty sword.
Valour shone from the edge of his blade,

His smell was always of musk,
And cleanliness he kept at his best.
Stark contrast with the heroes of today,
Who stink of beer and sweat.

He held the hands of his companions.
Unashamed to play with many children.
So modest, so humble, a perfect example,
That strangers could not recognise him.

His eyes slept little for nights were precious,
His prayers he treasured much greater.
To pray Tahajjud in the depths of night,
Seeking forgiveness, and nearness to his Creator.

He broke his tooth for me at Uhud,
And bled for me at Ta'if.
He cried for me, tears of concern,
Just so I could have this belief.

His enemies admired his teachings,
Uniting every religion, every clan.
Till ISLAM came to every corner of the world,
O, but indeed he was only a man.

To own a house, or build his wealth
Was not his main priority.
To establish ISLAM was more essential,
To bring us under a Higher Authority.

Don't you want him to plea for your case,
When before ALLAH-The Judge-you stand?
Don't you wish to be around his fountain,
A burning desire to drink from his hand?

So I love him more than all creation,
My Leader, my Humble Prophet.
Muhammad (SAWS) was a mercy to all mankind,
And to me, he is ... MY BELOVED!

Last Breath - Islamic Poem

From those around I hear a Cry,
A muffled sob, a Hopeless sigh,
I hear their footsteps leaving slow,
And then I know my soul must Fly!
A chilly wind begins to blow,
Within my soul, from Head to Toe,
And then, Last Breath escapes my lips,
It's Time to leave. And I must Go!
So, it is True (But it's too Late)
They said: Each soul has its Given Date,
When it must leave its body's core,
And meet with its Eternal Fate.
Oh mark the words that I do say,
Who knows? Tomorrow could be your Day,
At last, it comes to Heaven or Hell
Decide which now, Do NOT delay!
Come on my brothers let us pray
Decide which now, Do NOT delay!
Oh God! Oh God! I cannot see!
My eyes are Blind! Am I still Me
Or has my soul been led astray,
And forced to pay a Priceless Fee
Alas to Dust we all return,
Some shall rejoice, while others burn,
If only I knew that before
The line grew short, and came my Turn!
And now, as beneath the sod
They lay me (with my record flawed),
They cry, not knowing I cry worse,
For, they go home, I face my God!
Oh mark the words that I do say,
Who knows, Tomorrow could be your Day,
At last, it comes to Heaven or Hell
Decide which now, Do NOT delay !
Come on my brothers let's pray
Decide which now, do not delay ....

Poem : Operation Death

It was early in the morning at four.
When death knocked upon a bedroom door.
"Who is there?" the sleeping one cried.
"I'm Izraeel, let me inside."

At once, the man began to shiver,
as one sweating in deadly fever.
He shouted to his sleeping wife,
"Don't let him take away my life."

"Please go away, O Angel of Death!
Leave me alone, I'm not ready yet.
My family on me depend, give me a chance,
O please prepense!"

The Angel knocked again and again,
"Friend! I'll take your life without a pain,
It is your soul Allah require,
I come not with my own desire."

Bewildered, the man began to cry,
"O Angel! I'm so afraid to die
I'll give you gold and be your slave.
Don't send me to the unlit grave."

The man held a gun in his right hand,
ready to defy the Angel's stand,
"I'll point my gun, towards your head.
You dare come in, I'll shoot you dead."

By now, the Angel was in the room,
Saying, "O Friend! Prepare for your doom.
Foolish man, Angels never die,
Put down your gun and do not sigh."

"Why are you afraid? Tell me, O man,
to die according to Allah's plan?
Come, smile at me, do not be grim,
be happy to return to Him."

"O Angel! I bow my head in shame,
I had no time to take Allah's name.
From morn till dusk I made my wealth,
not even caring for my health."

"Allah's commands I never obeyed
nor five times a day I ever prayed.
A Ramadan came and Ramadan went
but no time had I to repent."

"The Haj was already fard on me
But I would not part with my money.
All charities I did ignore
Taking usury more and more."

"Sometimes I sipped my favorite wine
with flirting women I sat to dine.
O Angel! I appeal to you spare my life for a year or two."

"The Laws of Qur'an I will obey,
I'll begin Salat this very day.
My Fast and Haj, I will complete,
and keep away from self conceit."

"I will refrain from usury,
and give all my wealth to charity,
wine and wenches I will detest,
Allah's oneness I will attest."

"We Angels do what Allah demands,
we cannot go against His commands.
Death is ordained for everyone,
father, mother, daughter or son."

"I'm afraid, this moment is your last,
now be reminded, of your past.
I do understand your fears
but it is now too late for tears."

"You lived in this world, two score and more,
Never did you, your people adore.
Your parents, you did not obey,
hungry beggars, you turned away."

"Your two ill-gotten, female offsprings,
in night-clubs, for livelihood they sing.
Instead of making more Muslims,
you made your children non-Muslims."

"You ignored the Mu'athin's Athaan,
nor did you read the Holy Qur'an.
Breaking promises all your life,
backbiting friends, and causing strife."

"From hoarded goods, great profits you made,
and your poor workers,you underpaid.
Horses and cards were your leisure,
money-making was your pleasure."

"You ate vitamins and grew more fat,
with the very sick, you never sat.
A pint of blood you never gave,
which could a little baby save."

"O human, you have done enough wrong,
you bought good properties for a song.
When the farmers appealed to you,
you did not have mercy, 'tis true."

"Paradise for you? I cannot tell,
undoubtedly you will dwell in hell.
There's no time for you to repent,
I'll take your soul for which I'm sent."

The ending, however, is very sad.
Eventually the man became mad.
With a cry, he jumped out of bed.
And suddenly, he fell down dead.

O Reader! take a moral from here!
You never know, your end may be near.
Change your living and make amends,
for heaven, on your deeds depends

Poem : If Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) visited you

I wonder...

If the Prophet Muhammad visited you,
Just for a day or two;
If he came unexpectedly
I wonder what you'd do.

Oh! I know you'd give your nicest room
To such an honored guest;
And all the food you'd serve to him
Would be the very best;

And you would keep assuring him,
You're glad to have him there;
Your hospitality would be beyond belief
And service beyond compare.

But... when you saw him coming,
Would you meet him at the door
With arms outstretched in welcome
To your honoured visitor?

Or... would you have to change your
Clothes before you let him in?
Or hide some magazines and put
The Quran where they had been?

Would you still watch movies
On your trusty TV set?
Or would you rush to switch it off
Before he gets upset?

Would you turn off the radio
And hope he hadn't heard?
And wish you hadn't uttered
That last loud nasty word?

Would you hide you worldly music
And instead take Islamic books out?
Could you let him walk right in,
Or would you rush about?

And, I wonder... if the Prophet spent
A day or two with you,
Would you go right on doing the things
That you always do?

Would you go right on saying the things
You always used to say?
Would life for you continue
As it does from day to day?

Would your family conversation
Keep its usual pace?
Or would you find it hard each meal
To say a table grace?

Would you keep up each and every
Prayer, forcing back a frown?
And would you always jump up early
For every prayer at dawn?

Would you sing the songs you always do
And read the books you read?
And let him know things on which
Your mind and spirit feed?

Would you take the Prophet with you
Everywhere you normally go?
Or would you , maybe, change your plan
Just for a day or so?

Would you be glad to have him meet
Your very closest friends?
Or would you hope they'd stay away
Until his visit ends?

Would you be glad to have him stay
Forever on and on?
Or would you sigh with great relief
When he at last was gone?

It might be interesting to know
The things you would do
If the Prophet Muhammad, in person,
Came to spend some time with you.

Islamic Poem on Death

Eyes stare brightly whist staring into the ceiling
Veins cringe and take their last breathe of oxygen
Call it intoxication of air when you are being refused it
As gasping becomes heavy.

Heart rate lowered dramatically,
I have no more heart

Brain becomes frozen,
I have no control over it..for it is not mine
Chills go up and down my spine
How perfect our body’s function, how divine

Ignorant of this day that I must face
When the consequences of my actions no one can wipe away
Stone reaction on my face
I suffer the feeling of guilt in my heart
But too late to change it, as my mind thinks faster than my heart rate
I cant believe how long I have left myself living in such disgrace
Ignorant of the reality
Ignorant of this place
We call world
Disingenuous of the canopy that covered my eyes
Take the last few breathes of air before I realise
That I have come to my demise
Come to the day where the next time I rise
Shall be in judgment of the life and I cannot disguise

I don’t want to let go!
I had too many plans
yet to accomplish yet to fill in my hands
visions of wealth when I can buy all of which that I wanted without ever holding out my hands
to ask for help
not only that of people but that of my Lord

I shall stand in shame in front of him
Cannot fight a lost battle
There’s no tongue and no sword
No rewind button, no next-door ward
With a difference choice playing strings of a different cord

My journey is over
Body is frozen
Eyes stare brightly whist staring into the ceiling
Veins cringe and take their last breathe of oxygen
Call it intoxication of air when you are being refused it
As gasping becomes heavy.

Heart rate lowered dramatically,
I have no more heart

Is it He Who giveth life and who taketh it and to Him shall ye all be brought back. (56)(Surah Yunus in the Quran)

Cookie Thief

A woman was waiting at the airport one night,
With several long hours before her flight.
She hunted for a book in the airport shop,
Bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop.

She was engrossed in her book, but happened to see,
That the man beside her, as bold as could be,
Grabbed a cookie or two from the bag between,
Which she tried to ignore to avoid a scene

She read, munched cookies, and watched the clock,
As the gustly "cookie thief" diminished her stock
She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by,
Thinking, "If I wasn't so nice, I'd blacken his eye!"

With each cookie she took, he took one too.
When only one was left, she wondered what he'd do.
with a smile on his face and a nervous laugh,
He took the last cookie and broke it in half.

He offered her half, and he ate the other.
She snatched it from him and thought, "Oh brother,
This guy has some nerve, and he's also so rude,
Why, he didn't even show any gratitude!"

She had never known when she had been so galled,
And sighed with relief when her flight was called.
She gathered her belongings and headed for the gate,
Refusing to look at the "thieving ingrate".

She boarded the plane and sank in her seat,
Then sought her book, which was almost complete.
As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise.
There were her bag of cookies in front of her eyes!

"If mine are here," she moaned with despair.
"Then the others were his and he tried to share!"
Too late to apologize, she realized with grief,
That she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief!!!!

Valerie Cox