(10) The Loot
Eerie silence hung over the battleground Broken occasionally by drum beating sounds The carnage, the massacre, of saintly souls Caused a shudder, in Islam's true believers' fold. The massacre being over, they raided they tents To loot and destroy, they were all fiendishly bent Helpless ladies and children, they rcilessly plashed Young innocent babes, to the ground they dashed. Daughters of the Prophet, simple lives had led Coarse and patched clothes, were all they had Woven by Fatima, they were immensely treasured In terms of money, none could be measured. They were shamelessly looted of even their veils The Yazidi hordes outclassed, themselves, the devils Earrings were snatched of the child of Husayn She was slapped mercilessly, for crying in pain.
In stupor, lay the only surviving adult male Ali Zainal Abedeen was flogged as in horror tales After the looting, the tents were set on fire enmasse Hell was let loose, with a vengeance, quick and fast. Zaynab was perplexed, she was lost Perish in flames or face still worst This hour of trial, whom to consult Her nephew was unconscious, lying in dust.
"Ali Zainal Abedeen, I appeal to you As our Imam, tell us what are we to do?" He opened his eyes, burning with fever With utmost effort, advise he delivered. "To save our lives is a religious duty Go in the open and seek security."
Ladies and children, they left the tent Salvaging what they could, as they went. The loot, the pandemonium, was soon over Burning embers of fire only hovered A partially burnt tent was all that remained A solitary witness of torture and blood stain. The Ahl Bait cuddled together therein Shattered in mind and body, beyond dream The time had come almost to a standstill The night was in sorrow; one could feel. The mourning widows of Husayn's friends Their anguished hearts, who could mend? Zaynab and Kulthum consulted each other The orphaned children, they had to mother. Zaynab counted the children; one was missing To her dismay, it was Sakina, her darling "Tell me Sakina, where are you my child?" In wilderness, the echo was the only reply.
Frustrated, she ran towards the battlefield "Sakina is lost, your darling child Husayn, where shall I look for her?" She imploringly sobbed, in utter despair. The silvery moon, behind the clouds was hid The clouds dispersed, the ground was lit Lying with her head on Husayn's chest Little Sakina was sleeping in her usual nest.
"Sakina, my child, I have come here After searching the desert, my dear Your father's beheaded body, how could you find In this dark night, with your frightened mind?" "An irresistible urge seized me, though dampened To tell my father all that had happened How they snatched my earrings, after his death The slaps I received, the treatment we met."
"Running aimlessly in the desert I cried Tell me dearest father, where do you lie Sakina, my darling Sakina, come here, come here! I heard him calling and found my father dear." "I narrated to him, all I had endured It lightened my heart: I was re-assured An urge to sleep on his chest, for the last time I placed my head in the nest of mine."
With Sakina, Zaynab hurried to the camp Again it was dark; there was no lamp All were anxiously waiting in the ghostly night Praying silently to God, the Eternal Light. She placed Sakina in her mother's arms She had several other duties to perform No, not to protect any worldly treasure The children had suffered, beyond measure. Advancing towards them, she saw a group "There is nothing left, which you can loot Pray, do not disturb the children in sorrow If you want something, come in the morrow!" "We do not want anything from you We know, what you have said is true We have brought some water and food We know, you are in a sorrowful mood."
Zaynab was surprised; so polite was the speaker It was the widow of Hur, the truth seeker "Soldiers of Omar Saad have deputed me To carry food and water for thee."
"Lest you perish, due to hunger and thirst, Before Yazid, they want to take you first That is why they have sent water and food Not because they have suddenly turned good." "O, sister, we are indebted to your husband For his precious life, in defending Husayn He was our guest, but at a time, alas! We had not even water; no, not a glass!" "My lady, I am grieved, you lost not one But eighteen members to death, were done."
They offered condolences to each other Zaynab was large hearted like her mother. "At last there is water for you Wake up, Sakina, see it is true Wet your throat, sobbing will stop." For days, she had not even a drop. "Let Ali Asghar drink first, he is the youngest My dear brother died of sheer maddening thirst Now that water is available, give him first Before I can taste it and quench my thirst." Guarding her folks, with a half burnt pole Alone, all alone, with no waking soul Due to exhaustion, Zaynab fell in a swoon O' Merciful God, it was, indeed, a boon! One person came galloping in her dream "O' Shaikh, please go back" she screamed "I am daughter of Hazrat Ali and Fatima We are guardians of the holy 'Kalima'! The person lifted the veil from his face It was her father Ali himself, by Divine Grace She poured out her mutilated and bleeding heart to him The outpourings caused convulsions, ending the dream. Lying on the desert sand, clothes wet with tears The dawn was breaking, time of prayer was near Events of previous day, she recalled with pain Ali Akbar had given Azan; prayers led by Husayn. Finishing her prayer, she laid her head Prostrate before God of the living and dead To give her courage, to carry on the mission Which, to the world, would be an everlasting lesson.
(11) The Journey to Kufa
The sun rose, crimson-red was its color Downcast with shame, the world looked duller Ladies and children, huddled with shambled remains The victors rejoiced, without compunction or shame. Vying with one another, to torture and torment They took delight, in causing them lament Marching them, by the bodies of their dear ones Before being taken to Kufa, in a caravan. Without any saddles, on camels' bare-backs The ladies were put in a sheep like pack Bound hand and foot, with ropes and chains Children's necks were tied with their hands. Burning with fever and heavily chained Zainal Abedeen was marched, though in pain The heads of the martyrs, carried on spears Headed the procession of Muhammad's dears.
Kufa was reached in a few hectic hours Shimr and Khooli gloated, over and over To the governor was sent a courier The caravan stopped at a barrier. Zaynab and Kulthum had resided for four years In Kufa as daughters of Islam's ruler Now, they were captives of those Muslims, Who were steeped in vices and sins. The grand daughters of the Prophet of Islam Were too noble, to cause anyone least harm helpless victims of those followers of Muhammad; The lofty principles of Islam were thrown in mud.
O' Kufa, recall the days of glory of Zaynab! The honored daughter of the noblest of Arabs For four years, Kufians vied with each other Every wish of theirs to fulfill like a mother. The same Kufa now wore a festive look People gathered in every corner and nook To watch the grand daughters of Muhammad People of Kufa were now thirsty for their blood. Heading the caravan, the town crier was crying aloud The prisoners are Zaynab and Kulthum, beyond doubt Husayn and his followers have all been slain, By Yazid's might and power, on Karbala's plain. All who question Yazid, such is their fate Beware, lest you be subjected to such hate If you obey Yazid, without any question Rewards will be plenty and teasingly handsome. When the identity was revealed, some were sad Ladies and children of the house of Muhammad; Could they be captives and his grand-son murdered? None, however, dared protest; they merely shuddered. It was noon, the sun increasingly blazing Continuous pleading for water, Zaynab was facing It was futile, to ask the brutes for water Zaynab was explaining to Husayn's daughter. A lady in balcony, saw the plight of Sakina Rushing down with water, she was in a dilemma She went to Sakina, breaking the police cordon A tumbler of cool water; O' merciful heaven! Was it Umm Ayman? Zaynab was not sure Two decades had passed, since the days of yore "I am thankful for your noble gesture, May God, on you, His blessings shower."
She was astonished and completely dazed Zaynab brushed aside the hair, from her face The same Zaynab, whom she adored and venerated, Was now a picture of woe, a victim of fate. Kissing Zaynab's feet, out of reverence Umm Ayman, weepingly, asked for forgiveness; Lest, such display rouse public sympathy The guards pounced and whipped, Ayman, mercilessly. Thrown aside, she weepingly complained to Allah The caravan proceeded to the court of Obeidullah Seated on a throne, holding his royal court The prisoners were marched in the villain's fort.
Seeing Zaynab and Kulthum, he ordered his men To place at his feet, the head of Husayn; He mockingly inquired, the son of a bitch' "Are these slave girls or children of Prophet?" as per the parting promise given to Husayn Zaynab, who was controlling herself, lost restrain "We are grand-daughters of your acknowledged Prophet, Sisters of Husayn, whom your henchmen murdered!" In frenzy, she gave him a bit of her mind "You are the stooge of Yazid, O' you fiend! He has flouted all the principles of Islam The house of Prophet, he has unjustifiably harmed!" "He has trampled all ethical concepts reduced all beings to a condition abject your success, is ephimeral, be sure very soon, God's wrath, you will endure."
Ibn Ziad, was stunned by this bold rebuke His embarrassment was apparent, though he fumed The awe inspiring atmosphere of the court Held no terrors for Zaynab and Kulthum, both. He looked around to see the devastating effect If she went on, the masses would defect He shouted at the top of his heartless voice Undaunted by threats, Zaynab dared him twice! She projected the issues, the sacrifices of Husayn; Most poignantly, she recalled his piety and fame A blind companion of the Prophet, Ziad bin Arkan Protested at the indignities on founders of Islam.
Ibn Ziad, shouting him down, ordered his removal By nature, he was crafty and vindictively cruel He hurriedly dismissed the corrupt court "Carry the prisoners to Damascus", he roared.
(12) The Devil's Den
Through the desert of Mesopotamia they marched on Falling every few feet, due to sheer exhaustion Ali Zainal Abedeen was mercilessly whipped Even if he stumbled, even if he tripped. Sakina fell down from the camel's bare-back Zaynab raised an alarm; she was taken aback The soldiers were intoxicated, they paid no heed Without any succour, she would perish indeed! In desperation, Zaynab turned towards the spear "Husayn, fallen down is your daughter dear; I am helpless, my feet and hands are bound."
The spear, with Husayn's head, got planted down! Khooli jumped down, to uproot the spear The stooges rushed forth, from far and near The spear remained stuck as if cemented The impact would be great, if soldiers got scent. Shimr approached Ali; his anger was boiling The Imam looked at the head; tears were trickling He turned his gaze, Zaynab caught his weeping eye "Sakina has toppled over, the child may die!" Shimr picked up the unconscious exhausted child Dumping her in Zaynab's arms, rushed the hostile Khooli could now lift the spear from the ground The caravan proceeded quietly, onwards bound.
The Syrian desert was strewn with prickly thorns Marching bare foot, like on painful corns The torture was borne, with patience and calm God was the healer, soothing was his balm! For few hours they halted, each tiresome night Feasting, the vulturous soldiers were a sight Food and water, for prisoners was rationed Barely enough to sustain them, was the caution. They reached a mountain top, quite secluded A hermitage of a holy and pious recluse The heads of the martyrs, Shimr gave For safe custody, in his solitary cave.
The prophets descended to guard the head Startled and baffled, he awoke from his bed Rushing out of the monastery, Shimr he awoke "Whose heads are these?" boldly he spoke. "The grandson of Prophet Muhammad had defied The authority of Yazid ibn Moawiyah" Shimr cried "For refusing to accept his spiritual suzerainty He had been butchered at Karbala, ruthlessly."
The hermit was shocked, beyond any words "You cursed people, fie upon you cowards Beheading your own Prophet's beloved grandson, His helpless family you now hold at ransom!" Shimr lost his temper, he was enraged; With one sweep of the sword, he chopped his head. For Islam's injunctions, he had scant regard To grant protection to those dedicated to God. The city of Damascus was soon in sight Through hurried marches, by day and night Near the gate of the fortress, the caravan halted In blazing sun, the prisoners sweated. The scenes in Kufa, had reached Yazid's ears To disclose their identity, he now feared He announced, that a rebel had been defeated A day of rejoicing, it should be treated.
The city was assuming a gay and festive look Festoons and buntings hung from every nook The victims were scorching under the burning sun To the onlookers, it was all laughter and fun. Sacrificial dates, they threw at them To ward off evil from their dear ones The hungry children tried to eat them Zainab was perplexed and at her wit's end.
"Prophet has forbidden his own family To eat sacrificial offerings, O' you ladies, Do not throw such offerings at our children; Pray, do not increase our pain and burden!" Can it be, they are the family of Muhammad? Their faces and bodies were smeared with mud From some princely family of noble stock Their bearings revealed, without any doubt.
After one full hour, the imperial orders came Bring in the prisoners, the followers of Husayn An elevated throne, lavishly decorated with gold Seven hundred gilded chairs surrounded it, all told. In tattered rags, with dirt and mess Blood oozing from lash-wounds in the flesh Tightly tied in ropes and heavy chains Were the daughters and sisters of Husayn. On a gold salver, the head of Husayn, At the feet of Yazid, was vindictively laid He could not for a moment believe his eyes These people claimed with Muhammad, blood ties. Yazid was fully drunk; he quivered with rage "Omar Saad, how dare you cheat me, your sage! These are not the ladies of Husayn." His eyes displayed a thirst for slaying Flinging himself abjectively at Yazid's feet "Mercy, O' Commander of Faithful", he pleaded, "I have carried out your august command, Nay, your every wish, your every demand."
"The prisoners are Zaynab and Kulthum, for any doubt, pray have no room, The ailing man is Ali Zainal Abedeen, Other members, may also please be seen." Raising his eye brows, he watched Yazid's face "Ah, there, who is trying to hide from my gaze?" falteringly, he replied, afraid of being snubbed "The old lady is Fizza; behind her is Zaynab."
"None, shall protect the prisoners from me; Throw aside Fizza, so that Zaynab I can see." Fizza turned to the slaves, behind the throne With naked swords, as bodyguards they roamed. "O brothers, from Abysinia, my own native land with folded hands why do you passively stand? Your aged princess demands from you protection This tyrant's blood thirst is his obsession!" The slaves stepped forward and addressed Yazid "Your Majesty, please desist from the foul deed; if Shimr proceeds to do anything to her, blood will flow right now, like water!" Yazid, was flabbergasted at this affront He fully realized, they said, what they meant In the light of chandeliers, their swords glistened The coward in him panicked, as he shiveringly listened.
"Shimr, withhold your lash; stay where you are I will chop off your head, if you harm her; My good fellows, your devotion to me, is such Your sense of honor, I will not touch. The courtiers and others, saw his humiliation To display his triumph, was his fascination Beating Husayn's head, with a cane of gold knob He rejoiced with glee, as the prisoners sobbed. Using the cane, on the lips of Husayn He chuckled, wickedly, without any shame "Were not these lips, receiving kisses from Muhammad The same lips, which are now lying in mud." "How delighted my fore-fathers must be How happy, their souls, must be today, to see I have avenged them, for all their defeats By butchering Husayn; a daring feat."
"Whose head is this, may I ask, O' King? What crime, had committed, this human being To deserve, this treatment, even after death Woeful is the punishment, his family has met."
An ambassador, of a foreign country, Abdul Wahab Inquired of Yazid, on seeing the holocaust "The head is of Prophet's grandson Husayn; He, with his supporters, were all slain."
"These are the ladies of the house of Prophet Watching them in distress is, to me, a treat Husayn, and his friends, were put to sword Opposition to my Caliphate, I can ill-afford." "I shall subject them, to such punishment To the world, it would be a valuable lesson None, shall question my sovereignty, hereafter Their punishment, will be, no fun and laughter."
"You have committed the greatest sin, O' King! I have not heard of such tortures and killings; My people treat me with highest respect, For being a descendent of their Prophet." He then turned toward Zainal Abedeen "Ali, from what I have heard and seen Your father, indeed, was the noblest soul To fight this tyrant, was a courageous role." "I declare, my faith, in your esteemed religion fully aware of the consequences of the decision, I denounce the usurper, the incarnation of 'devil'; He is the fittest epitome of the highest evil."
Yazid was mad with rage, smarting under insult Most unexpected was the rebuke, staggering the result "Drag away the Ambassador," Yazid angrily demanded "Chop off his head," like a mad cap, he next commanded. Pin drop silence prevailed; everyone was reserved Gulping down cups of wine, to soothe his nerves "You there," he shouted at Imam Zainal Abedeen "Your punishment shall be such, the world has not seen."
"You shall pay dearly for his sins for the insults and rebukes, flung by him I shall chop off your head, here and now To wreak vengeance, I have the know-how." On second thought, he added, trying to be tough "No, no; killing you will not be enough Your life, will be a living death, everyday You will pine for death, even while you pray." In a feeble, but clear ringing voice, Said Zainal Abedeen, "O' tyrant do not rejoice Worst torture, is to make our ladies stand, Without any veils, in this Islamic land."
"I am not frightened by your threats The descendents of Prophet, have no fear of death Those who love God, are severely tried by him, To display their true faith and heaven win." The retort evoked spontaneous whispers of admiration Despite his cunning nature, Yazid was visibly shaken He feigned loud laughter to cover his embarrassment He still tried to justify the unparalleled harassment.
"God inflicted this punishment on you all for your father's obduracy and defiance of my call to accept my lawful authority, you are reluctant still you got what you deserved, according to his will." "O' tyrant, do not distort the words of God to act with justice or to ride rough shod, he gives opportunities to all women and men; punishment ultimately over takes those with evil in them." Yazid was speechless; he could not reply His mouth was sealed, much as he did try A subservient courtier, anxious to curry favor Bowed before him, thinking himself too clever.
"Your Majesty, your indulgence I crave Bestow that girl, Sakina, on me as a slave." Zaynab standing nearby, with her head bowed Was furious, and infuriated as never before. "You, wretched soul; no shame you have Prophets grandchild, you wish to enslave Is there none amongst you, even to protest Against the shocking and shameless request."
A gold embroidered curtain only ruffled in shame Hind, Yazid's favorite wife, entered the harem Once, she had been a lady-in-waiting, to Zaynab A devout lady, a believer in Almighty Rab. She still remembered Zaynab, with devotion Yazid knowing this had concealed his intention, To kill Husayn and his family's enslavement; She was unaware, of the tragic development. Hearing Zaynab's voice, and talk of enslavement, She rushed out, without veil, in a frenzied moment "What is all this about, do let me know Who can enslave them, except the lowest of the low." The action of his wife, was a daring feat Coming without a veil, was against custom, indeed Yazid, hurriedly shouted orders, dismissing the court "Carry the captives to the darkest dungeon in the Fort."
The good lady kept on questioning her husband Who the prisoners were, she enquired and so on, He gave her evasive replies, to allay her fears The prisoners are not the Prophet's near and dear.
(13) A Rose Bud Fades Away
In the dark desolate dungeon, the caravan halted The scorpions and snakes took fright and bolted Zaynab and Zainal Abedeen, prostrated themselves in prayer Without a word of complaint, without any demur. It was dark inside, despite the sun's bright rays The stone walls were damp, crumbling with decay Looks of sorrow and despondency, was on each face Of joy and laughter, there was not even a trace. The faces depicted sufferings, beyond human endurance Prayer was the solace, they enjoyed, without hindrance A few stale morsels of bread and a little water Was their daily ration, in these horrible quarters.
"Stone walls do not a prison make nor iron bars a cage," Was equally true in that merciless land and cruel age Though in shackles, every night their spirits soared high To heights sublime, beyond all plains, in the heavenly sky. Sakina, woke with a shriek, in the dead of the night She had seen her father's heavenly soothing light "O' Sakina, you have suffered enough, come with me the days of your sufferings are over; O' where is he?" It was just a dream, what a disappointment! It was not a reality, to her bewilderment Her uncontrollable lamentations, gathered a crowd The ladies also lost control and wailed aloud. Hearing the wails, Yazid sent slaves to inquire Pacing up and down, he had not yet retired On knowing the cause, his crooked mind strived A devilish scheme, he soon mischievously contrived. Yazid's men entered with a covered tray, "I do not want food, please take it away I want my father; promises he did give Without taking me, why did he leave?" They removed the cloth; Sakina beheld the face Even in death, it was full of heavenly grace With a cry, she flung herself on the wooden tray Hugging to her heart, she snatched the face away. Inconsolably, she bent down over the head Putting, her cheeks, against that of her dad Within a few moments, her sobbing had stopped Her mortal remains, she had quietly dropped. "How long will you lie on your father's head?" Zaynab touched her hand; she was shockingly dead Sakina had gone with her father, never to return Husayn had kept his promise, as he had always done!
