The Islam I know

vikas chandra

What drove me to Musandam, that fateful day?
That heaven’s charm! Or some pious toll to pay!
Was it mystic passion, that rushed my car’s pace?
Or sublime urge of soul, seeking divine embrace

Musandam, there it was, I lost in her lavish lures
What lay in store for me, what destiny obscures?
Next moment, me in shambles, in a wrecked car
Would end be swift? I presumed! Not a soul, near or far!

From nowhere, I saw, an old man, running beyond his means
Skull-capped, kandura-clad, bare feet, steadfast, beating ravines
In a while, I heard his heaves; a spent man ready, with pulled-up sleeves
For me, he was hope, his weathered face God! He smiled and swore, “Allah relieves!”

He fanned and wiped, my lesions with his holy cap
A wounded soul cradled, in a mother’s tender lap
I read his withered façade! All smiles and Allah’s name

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