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The Dead Mans Wife

Short story By: Khano
Other


This Love is a King
But his banner is hidden.
The Quran speaks the Truth
But its miracle is concealed.
Love has pierced with its arrow
The heart of every lover.
Blood flows but the wound is invisible.

From: Rumi” Whispers of the Beloved “


Submitted:Sep 1, 2012    Reads: 42    Comments: 3    Likes: 2   


Malik.

My King.

I begin in the name of Allah, and I pray the words that leave my tongue is nothing but the truth.

O' Ata' Allah, my gift from Allah, by His name if I could write these words in scented blood I would indeed slit my wrists and pen these verses. This Divine Lover of ours has cascaded these verses from His Throne: "And amongst His signs is that He created for you partners from amongst yourselves, and He put love and mercy between your hearts... Verily in that are signs for those who reflect." Bring your ear to my chest and listen to my blood making dhikr of your name... Indeed, you are mercy from Allah.

I am from your weakest bone. And you are from me...

Before my eyes fell upon you, I made a duaa that shaken the thrones of tyranny by a ferocious warrior As-Shaheed Sayyid Qurthub. A duaa that would crumble the Mount Uhud to dust.

"O Muhaymin, if I fall in love, guard my love so that it does not exceed my love on you.

O Allah, if I fall in love, let me touch the heart of someone whose heart is attached to You, so that I do not fall into the abyss of monotonous love.

O Rabb, if I yearn, make me yearn for someone who yearns for Shaheed in your path.

O Allah, if I fall in love with Your lover, do not let me falter in the long journey of calling mankind towards you..."

O' Sahibi, the second you walked into my life these words enveloped your presence as if they had been written with the inscription of your beloved name. You sealed my heart to all else. I did not know love, before I knew you...

O' my Garment, enrobing my weakness and flaw, preserving me within your aura, I beg our happily ever after be the moment you step into the threshold of Jannah, holding me in your arms...

My eloquence escapes me, as I gasp to express this ocean of love that is drowning me, submerging me in its eternal abyss...

O' Faris, my Knight, I think of those excruciating times when I invoked your anger, wallahi the fire in your eyes scorched my tender soul till my flesh was raw and bleeding.

Weyna Ruh? Where are you my soul? I feel my tears escaping their prison, so I purge my misery and I reminisce those times you gathered me in the pillars of your arms, my sadness leaving me on your mubarak lips, my misery fading in the depths of your eyes. Eyes burning like embers of black oud.

O' Bishr, my joy, these unspoken words tremor in my heart like grounds will tremor when zil-zal, the quakes of Qiyama, shall grip the earth.

O' my husband... as I write these words, my eyes obscured by the pools of torment, I think of your body, slowly becoming dust in the sands of Ghaza. O' Mujahid you have left me for War... you have died at the hands of tyrants... and now your blood stains the sands of Ghaza but your heart is in the sands of Jannah.

I must confess, my life left me the moment Allah took you away. I should rather be subjected to the torture of scorpions and snakes piercing my body, than endure the pain of trying to stay alive whilst you have stopped breathing...

And even though I will bury this note in your Qabr, I pray that Allah will convey this message to you wherever you are, so that you may reminisce about your wife, who is bleeding over her love for you...

How I envy you, my love, that you are in the presence of Allah before me. Please, Omar, wait for me at the gates of Paradise, call my name through the abodes of heaven and hell so that even the Angels and Shayateen can prepare for the day when I will be escorted to unite with you, again...

Salaam Alaikum.

F.





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