Frozen in time, with words unsaid, and voices unheard,
Frozen, like the icicles on trees, that only melt in due time,
Frozen with love hidden inside, and unexpressed,
Frozen, because nature is too harsh and unbearable,
Frozen and paused, while slow tears stream down the eyes,
Frozen in cold chains, with no space to fly.
Ruqaiya Lokhand
As me and my friend Husain (school-mate) talked over about school and old times, our conversation took us to our school teachers. Some of them were who I had met in the past couple of months, and some, that he had met. But, in all we talked about every teacher of madrasa who had taught us and nurtured us with good qualities in madrasa.
I remember when CIE examinations in my 11th grade (last year of school) were about to begin I wrote an article on my classmates; I addressed a paragraph to each one of them and bid them farewell. My principal told me that I must not forget my teachers while bidding farewell. I picked up my pen but I didn’t know what to say to them, I was unsure that what was right and what wasn’t at that time because with friends you could say what you feel, but while speaking about a teacher you would always hesitate before making a statement.
Being naïve and immature you make a lot of mistakes and so did I. I think all students must have made fun of a teacher or spoken ill of them; and I agree I have too (almost about everyone).
Two years after passing school, I’ve come to realize that life will not give you what you want, it will not say what you want to hear, it will not do what you want to happen, in fact, it will silently teach you with remarks that would baffle you. Only after this I realized how wrong I had done to those who corrected me in the most polite manner, who generously gave me what I wanted, who left no chance of appreciating me, who stood by me and showed how to anchor life.
Without the art of handling my tools (which they gave me), I wouldn’t last a day. I didn’t know it was a blessing that I had them in my life, I did not thank them, in fact, I had done something so ill which makes me think I did not deserve such brilliant and hardworking teachers.
There have been instances where our teachers got tired and frustrated of our acts, but I found that, no matter what we did they didn’t leave us; they would come back again the next day beginning with a fresh start. I’m sure it’s not easy to forget where one does wrong to you, but they did.
I believe no student can succeed until he respects his teacher. It’s because the one who gives you knowledge matters more than the knowledge itself. Imagine a piece of clay awaiting its potter; we would be there, waiting to be shaped and polished by the potter.
I am deeply sorry, first for doing something which was inhumane and, for never thanking them. I was unable to write about each and every one of them but I want to take their names, not because I want to show off, but because I want them to know I remember them and I pray for them.
Janab Shk Mustafa Jack
Janab Shk Ammar Bhai
Janab Shk Tahir Bhai
Janab Shk Saifuddin
Janab Shk Huzefa Bhai
Janab Shk Mohammad Bhai
Janab Shk Shabbir
Janab Shk Mustafa Bhai
Janab Shk Yousuf Bhai
Janab M Quaid Johar Bhai
Janab M Ibrahim Bhai
Janab M Moiz Bhai
Janab M Mansoor Bhai
Janab M Ahmed Bhai
Janab M Abbas Bhai
Ali Sir
Murtaza Sir
Muzammil Sir
Zulifqar Sir (computer)
Quaid Sir
Sir Asgher
Sir Javed Kamal
Sir Arif
Sir Tauheed
Sir Sadiq
Sir Zulfiqar (Pakistan studies)
Sir Zohair
Sir Ahmed
Zahabiyah Bhen
Rabab Bhen
Tasneeem Bhen
Tahera Bhen
Tasneem Bhen
Husnebanu Bhen
Farida Bhen (Grade II)
Shireen Bhen
Shama Bhen
Fatema Bhen
Fatema Bhen (art teacher)
Arwa Bhen
Fauzia Bhen
Tasneem bhen Dawoodji
Durriya Bhen
Nighat Bhen
Shahzadi Bhen
Tasneem Bhen Shakir
Nafisa Bhen Jabir
Rehana Bhen
Rashida Bhen (Primary Urdu teacher)
Rashida Bhen Box
Zainab Bhen Anjar
Rashida Bhen Haji
Fatema Bhen Raziuddin
Zainab Bhen Sadri
Umme Hani Bhen
Maryam Bhen Sadri
Qurratul-Ain Bhen
Naseem Bhen
Raeesa Bhen
I know I must be definitely missing out on someone; I tried my mind to go back as much I could take it. I’m sorry (yet again) whose name I’ve missed out here. But, together I remember you all as school teachers. Regretting over the mistakes, I’m thankful to all of you, for being the potter and turning this clay into a piece of pottery.
My words might not reach you, and might not be so great, but I wanted to at least try and show my feelings.
To those who are irreplaceable and unforgettable.
Your student,
Ruqaiya Lokhand.
I really have no idea where to begin from, and I’m not sure if people would like to read it, but I’d like to notify the readers, that, this essay is as a small gift of thanks to my friend, Rasheeda.
There’s no once upon a time in this story, I’ve known Rasheeda since I was a kid. It’s simple; I and Rasheeda have been living in the same area since childhood just until yesterday. We have known each other since we were babies crawling here and there in the masjid. Then we joined the madrasah and had our own girls group of the mohalla (area). Time passed and we used to play with each other/ be with each other for like every day.
When teenage hit us, there came times for sleepovers and gossips. Girls will be girls, there’s no denying it. So, there used to be cat fights (amongst all of us), I don’t mean physically, but saying stuff and cold wars, that kind. But even then, I don’t know why or how we still stayed along in a group.
In all of this growing part, we graduated from schools, and then from colleges and got into universities (except me, still in college – no comments on that) . We enjoyed getting older, because now no aunties will tell us not to sit in separate thaals and go to our moms (Just kidding! :D) Taking the oath of misaaq was one part of growing up, because it really meant we have to be serious towards studies and life, and we have to act mature, somehow all those parts in life went well. I believe growing up brought us closer to each other’s heart.
Naturally, no one can live without friends, even if we don’t say it, we want our friends to listen to our scored goals and the missed ones too, and our times of hardship and happy days, we like it when they appreciate, and are consoled even if they just keep a warm hand of comfort on our shoulder. At the end of teenage, our ‘girly-group’ transformed into a ‘club’, our park walks became dining out on occasions, our gossips jumped from who hit whom to who went out with whom, but, one thing remained the same, we laughed the same way like we did when we were kids.
Although our physique changed and we became different people now, but we stayed together, we enjoyed each other’s company, actually relished it, it was something special, actually it IS something special that I can’t define.
Time ran so fast it came to the part of engagements. Well, Rasheeda was the first one to get engaged from our group. We were all happy that now we are adults and have become mature with time. Who knew that we will all miss being together one day?
Day before yesterday, it was the last function of Rasheeda’s wedding, sorry if I’m jumping from engagement to the wedding, but it seems like she got engaged just some time ago and now, she is happily married.
I don’t know Rasheeda if I was ever a good friend to you, but you ARE to me. You might laugh now, I couldn’t sleep right now, I miss you. I miss you singing 9XM songs, I miss your smartness, I miss your cries, I miss you being bossy, I miss your enthusiasm, I miss dancing in the rain with you, and I miss your smile, I really miss you – already.
I think about your home, it’s such a big part of my childhood, I miss you being there. Apart from all the differences we have had, you were a really good friend to me, and to see you away I really don’t know how to react. I will miss your place beside Fatema – Muslim in the thaal. I will miss you every time as I pass by your building (which will be every day).
Yesterday as I hugged you the last time, I really didn’t want to let go of you, you are so much to me, you don’t even know. I know we haven’t been like best friends and all, but even then I will miss you like A LOT (Have I said this like the hundredth time till now?)
Life is really bitter sometimes, I really don’t want to be away from you.
I’d like to quote some lines to you;
I pray that your each and every day passes with a light heart, that no troubles bother you because I know you are great at tackling them 😉 .
I wish that every day you light the days with your radiant smile, and live a happy contented life under the Saya Mubarakah of both Maula. Ameen.
May Allah grant our Maula a long, healthy and prosperous life till the Day of Judgement. Ameen.
Take care.
With lots of love,
Yours truly,
Ruqqu.
It is this morning that I love,
Where greens in garden spring along,
From small to tall, they all appeal,
And, refresh me on the morning walk.
When fall arrives and they die out,
From green to yellow to orange they change,
With purple, pink and red on side,
They show their beauty one last time.
Dew rests on leaves, washing them out,
And Sun gives them all, a hot, warm bath,
Glistening and glowing with colors all kind,
Making a sad heart happy with last good bye.
And, when autumn sojourns, clearing them out,
The last look of love is never forgone,
Hustling with wind, the leaves fly away,
And so, they’re beautiful, even when they fall.
From New Jersey, with love.
Ruqaiya Lokhand.
There is a time of our life which we never forget, our school times, right? We spend a lot of time at school and there are memories of all the kinds from school. For me, it just won’t be school memories. For me, it would the thanda saya (cool shade) of Muqaddas Maula Syedna Mohammad Burhanuddin Aqa R.A.
Al Madrasa tus Saifya tul Burhaniyah, the institution well-established by Maula Burhanuddin Aqa R.A- the institute, that has changed lives of hundreds, as Maula R.A states in one of his Bayaan Mubarak “ Al Madrasa will endeavor to see that its students acquire knowledge from childhood in consonance with Deen. When its pupil leaves the school, his educational preparedness and standard should be so high, that he may be eligible for admission to all the esteemed higher educational institutions of the world. At the same time his thinking and mental faculty would be so trained and disciplined that he would be spared from vices of worldly education, which normally hampers efforts to reach standards of perfection.”
Thinking over the Kalimaat Nooraniya I now think back to the time I came to madrasah. In class 2 I got admission in madrasah or should I say I got the ne’mat (blessing) of being under the Saya Mubaraka of Maula R.A. Each wall, each brick of madrasah reminded of Maula R.A’s Zaat Mubarak. Each achievement in madrasah was appreciated and each painful misery was made forgotten with ease. What is it about madrasah that makes this happen or should I say, what is it not about madrasah which wouldn’t benefit you?
Each day in madrasah began with Maula’s zikr and tul-ul umr dua. Throughout the day we were taught and nurtured in Nazaraat Raheemiyah of Maula R.A as each class had a picture of Maula R.A right in the front, over the class board. It was, as if, Maula R.A himself taught us everything, it was his picture that consoled us in our problems and his tabassum that assured us that he is proud of our achievements.
We were granted with the most wonderful teachers who groomed us and taught us everything. From the part that how should one eat, to the part that how should one perform khidmat. It all came from Maula, from madrasah, from all the teachers even the ones that did not teach us in class, but gave a lesson to learn in each act.
As the final year will soon come to an end, our class teacher Janab Al-Sheikh Huzaifa Bhai gave each of us a paper. He instructed us to write our names and pass it to the one on our left. We were supposed to write whatever we want to about each other as a farewell comment. The idea rejoiced us but it also reminded us that the year in madrasah of learning each day was coming to an end. The difference that madrasah made in our lives is remarkable. We all did khidmat of both the Maulas together; we recited duas and did araz our hadayah in Hazrat Aaliyah being one. And, there was one significant day we all used to await each year. It was the day when we celebrated Milaad Mubarak of Burhanuddin Maula R.A (the Izhar-ul-Masarrat program). Different competitions were held of card making and thali making and what not. We all used to attend this day in Libas-ul-Anwar and it would be the most momentous day that we would have each year.
However, this year came with a difference. The 40 days of Ta’budaat had begun and preparations of the Milaad programs had started at school when we heard that, “Maula Burhanuddin Aqa ye hamesha no araam farmayo che.” The heart pounded vigorously, the mind couldn’t picture the thought and all I could do so was cry. I cried like I had never cried in my life. It was as if everything that I had is gone, well it had indeed. As Maula says ‘Man Lahul Maula Falahul Kul’ (je na pase Maula che ehna pase saglu che). The news baffled my ears that had I heard it correct, was it the news of my Maula that he had closed his eyes forever from this mortal world? As I saw Maula’s picture in front of me I just looked at him and cried ‘Maula ap padhari gaya? Maula hame ye apni waat na suni hamne maaf karjo’.
In a few days when madrasah re-opened after Maula’s wafaat I knew things would be so different. We came to assembly and recited Dua and qaseeda Mubaraka inscribed by Aali Qadar Maula in Maula R.A’s Shaan Mubarak. The walls of madrasah were mourning; there were silent cries that surrounded us. How could one bear the thought of losing Maula forever?
Each day as I entered madrasah, it was Maula’s madrasah that sedated me in such times and the very picture of our Mushfiq Pidar Syedna Mohammad Burhanuddin Aqa R.A and his Mansus Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin TUS who after Burhanuddin Maula R.A is our Sahara in our lives, consoled me. This showed the significance of the fact that it’s Maula’s yaari that has given me the strength each time in my life and will do so…
Today whoever I am, whatever I have achieved it is because of Syedna wa Maulana Mohammad Burhanuddin Aqa R.A and Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin Maula TUS. Before coming to madrasah I was like any other child but today I am one of leaves of the tree that Maula R.A had planted and has taken care of. I was a different person back then but the knowledge I acquired from madrasah, is the one that has brought me here. Now, when I discuss something with people and if one likes my taswwur, they ask me, “Madrasah ma parho cho?” I smile back and I answer “Ji, Al Madrasah Tus Saifiyah Tul Burhaniyah ma parhu chu”.
It is this institution of Maula Burhanuddin R.A and Mufaddal Maula TUS that has given me respect and has taken me beyond the limits of achievements that I for one couldn’t and can’t do on my own. It is the name itself that comes after madrasah that opens all the doors to me, and, I know for sure wherever I may go their Saya and yaari will always be there for me.
As I end this, I would like to Araz Shukr na Sajadaat to Burhanuddin Maula R.A and Mufaddal Maula TUS who have made me capable of doing things which seemed so difficult to me that are now made so sehel (easy) with their Dua Mubarak. And, also I’d like to thank all the people – the teachers, the juniors and seniors, other staff members who have taken me closer to Maula at each step I took. They have always supported me and given me confidence and have made me believe in myself.
Nevertheless, the time has to go on and soon we’re going to finish our schooling from madrasah. And as I said in the beginning it just won’t be school memories that I’d miss, it would also be the Saya of Maula R.A and Maula TUS that protected and took care of me.
May Allah grant our Maula Syedna Mohammad Burhanuddin Aqa R.A Aala Darajaat in Jannat-ul-Firdous and may Allah grant our Maula, our Saya, Syedna Mufaddal Safuddin Maula TUS a long healthy and prosperous life till the day of judgement. Ameen.
May we, the parts of the Shadaab darakht always do khidmat of Maula Saifuddin TUS so that may Burhanuddin Maula R.A be proud of us.
Amate Syedna Maulanal-Mannaan,
Ruqaiya Mulla Mustafa Lokhand wala.
I used to wonder why, wonder where the days had gone which we spent together, the songs sang , under the cloudy sky when we danced together. I was holding on forever to the love that seemed so far and hoped my dreams would come to life one day. Although, deep down inside I knew this was just meant to be, this was pure love and you were coming back to me where the field was green and the sky was blue. A place where I could see the moonlight above, feel the sensation of your touch, the sound of your whispers who’s echoes lasted a great deal longer and could smell the intoxicating scent of yours that I wanted to grasp within the confines of my heart forever.
It was perfect. It was passion and it was setting me free. My heart was skipping beats, the charming gestures of yours had totally taken my breath away. I just couldn’t get enough of how much do I needed you to fill me up because with every touch and every whisper you made me fall in love all over again! It was just like a movie scene, where we reunited in a sweetest dream.
It seems dreamy yet it’s awake. When that moment flies by, time stops and everything goes silent leaving the affect of the rejuvenating spells of your love. It’s amazing how the sun seems brighter the next day, flowers smell sweeter with the remains of your scent in my soul and the birds seem merrier while humming along the melodious notes of love with me. You make me realize that the moments we’ve spent in the spirit of love are the ones truly lived. You are the one who truly makes me spin with ecstasy, makes me cherish the moment, ignore the pain and let my heart be drunken with love which will always be filled because true is this connection. True is this love that surely you will see it in my smile when the heaven above showers it’s blessings in the form of
.
.
.
.
‘RAIN’!!!
(The connection between the rain and me) ;P
Sarrah Mustafa Malirwala
February.
Out of all the 12 months. This month has always been special to me. It is not only my favorite because of the soothing moderate weather it possesses but is also awaited the most because of the special occasions it brings along. Yes! Of course, the Valentine’s day, then my birthday and both the Milaad this time was a cherry on top. So I would like to tag February 2013 as ‘the month of celebration’.
Commencing with the ‘Red Day’; the Valentine’s Day, I wonder about the magic of that day that swirls it’s wand on every individual’s heart and charms the surroundings as the ‘Reds’ and ‘hearts’ rule all over the places that get wonderfully decorated. The chocolatiers keep floating on the clouds and the streets get occupied by the red balloon hawkers and the rose sellers, who have sparkle in their eyes because of the total income they know they’ll get at the end of the day.
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From children to old people; may it be a heart shaped card, a rose, or a gift; people heartily try to please their loved ones. And this time I tried too! I tried to do everything I could to plan a surprise for my parents (even with a terrible flu). 😛 So to remind them that they are and will always be special and ‘can’ have a peaceful romantic dinner at home in despite of the presence of three mischievous kids:D, I planned a candle lit Chinese dinner, fancy chocolate coated strawberries as starters, some decor and music in the background. “Splendiferously memorable! Had never expected such lovely arrangements by you children. You made our day!”, uttered my parents after filling their tummies and we just couldn’t wait for the gifts to be exchanged.
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Now coming to birthdays, on every birthday of mine I never miss a chance to jot down the number of people who wished me and the special things that happened. This might be strange to you, eh? But it makes me smile when I skim through it later on. So yesterday, I did the same. But morosely, this time the crisp page was unexpectedly half empty. I really had nothing at all to write except about the birthday wishes. Albeit, I was grateful about the lovely way people wished but it made me sad. Sad and cranky to it’s height! Know why? Because of the unexpected strike I could not even celebrate with my friends and make the most out of ‘my’ day! So I studied. I slept. I gussied up the blog. Did everything I could to forget that it was my birthday, which nevertheless made me more grouchy and I felt low as the time passed. In the evening there was suddenly a loud knock at my room’s door. And here the crack-heads were singing the birthday song at the top of their pitch the moment I was at sight jumping with excitement! I couldn’t stop grinning and eventually got to know that they spent the whole afternoon baking a cake and cooking pasta and stuff for me! We had a blast and after a while they left, leaving behind a warm glow on my face. 🙂
Personally all these occasions really matter to me. In fact, why shouldn’t they? We’re so engrossed in our diurnal routines that we forget to appreciate the ones that matter. We forget to express ourselves to them and take it all for granted. So whether it is Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Teacher’s Day or whatever, here’s a day when one can ‘make’ others feel special by a load of greetings, lots of attention and love. It gives us a perfect opportunity to splash out our emotions and creativity with a beautiful lasting memory in the end. Now you know, the importance of celebrating is immense so lets vent out all the way and make the most out of the relationships because if someone means to you then you should say it right then. Say it out loud. Say it a lot. As people forget or the moment just passes you by.
Sarrah Mustafa Malirwala
P.S: Really hoping for a better birthday in 2014. 😛
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