Sunday, 13 March 2011

On Peace

There have been arguments made that Islam should be judged on its actions, some have pointed to abstract examples and elements in a complex history to say that Islam is a religion that cannot preach peace. Well, let us then take Islam up by its actions.


Let us look at the DNA of a Muslim’s life. The essence of the faith they live by. Let us find the commonality that surely binds Muslims into a homogeneous block.


Every Muslim will rise in the morning and begin his or her day praising life, praising the beneficence of creation. Every Muslim will spend the day wishing peace on everyone. Every hand shaken will be blessed with the words “Salam”, or Shalom , or peace by with you. Every room entered is preceded by the words that push forward peace and blessings into it. When praying, Muslims will spread the words of peace around them as they finish. Muslims parents will teach their children to bless those around them with the words of peace from the moment they learn how to interact and will praise them whenever they do so.


If you were to take all the exceptions; if you were to root out all the differences in literacy, culture and class; if you were to take a billion people and find the basic common denominator of action between them all that you would find the word Peace. Salam would be the collective voice of the people and the only generalisation that you could make. That is the essence of Islam.


But what kind of peace does Islam pursue. Why this constant injunction to find it, to give it, to pass it on? Simply because achieving peace is the furthest thing from our base nature and the closest thing to God.


Peace is not just the absence of conflict, but the presence of certainty and harmony. Peace comes when all things are balanced and we have a deep understanding of our true selves. It is both an external state and an internal one.


Peace is hard. Peace demands that you fight for it, that you wage a jihad on your own hormonal yearnings to quell the unrest of your own soul so that you may be able to deliver tranquillity to those around you. Peace is also reflexive, peace involves your sacrifice and your submission, it involves empathy with other human beings and with God.

Peace demands justice, it demands fairness, it demands equality and it demands love. Love of God and love of your fellow human being. Thus blessed are the pacemakers, because their work is the most laborious, because their efforts seem most in vain but are ultimately the most important for all of creation.


This is the nature of Islam. Yes, we may argue about its flavours, its structures, its cultural traditions and the complex history, but the motion is Islam is a religion of Peace and by understanding the how that word Salam is anchored in the very spirit of every Muslim one can see the essence of Islam. In this Islam shares the ancient impulse of man, the constant craving that we have gnawing away at our existence and the need to find a way to calm our fissile natures, after all were born in the furnace of the stars.

Thursday, 10 March 2011

Red Wood On Barrow

Red wood chips today,

I thought you might like them.

Today I work the soil here,

Four years since I pressed you in

Frail as the shroud you wore

At the pit for you and I

Rights shared, shoulders shaken,

The sigh as I lifted myself out.


I came when I could. Weeds,

Growing in braids on your barrow

Time would not be right,

To change that, to mark you out.

I am here now, I can do this duty

Like you had me do that duty

So I work, cut and hew the earth

For the Sleeping Shah of voice and rhythms.



In your verses, your father’s verses you called

For the Cup-bearer to pour Kauthar for you

And as I finish I see your friend

Who hands me a jug of Zam-Zam water


by Ali A. Naqvi

When She Remmembers You

Like Zoraster lit fires for what he sought

I burned pyres in solitude but it came naught

Like you, once Magus, when you hailed this day

But I was cold, homeless, with nothing to say


She misses you even though she sought

Hope from you but it came to naught

As you sometimes Hulked up, green and muscular

When your unruly compass hit displeasure


She remembers the early moments she had sought

Spark in your farsi eyes, but it came to naught

Sometimes I wonder which one of us bent

Her dreams and which one us most laments.


You poured whatever your nomad mind sought

Made me something other than a naught

But the Nomad-fathers had tribes to trail

I, Sadiq, am set on a skiff with no sail.


By

Ali A. Naqvi

Saqi

This cup is empty yet made for filling

Saqi, fill it once again, for all my failings

Too long chasing visions offline

Saqi , pour me a drop of the divine


This cup is empty for lack of insight

Saqi, I fell for fool’s gold, for delight

Said the Sufi, look lost no more

Call for the Saqi, let him pour.


I have stumbled from countless medics

Saqi, to reams of leather-bound clerics

I have talked with Jinh in the dust

And heard them say “Dam Ali Mast”


I have been a victim of clawing doubt

Times where my heart would give out

In the badlands of fear and distrust

And then I have heard “Dam Ali Mast”


Leave me grasping, thirsty no more

Saqi, I place my cup, you must pour

So this love can route through my core

Saqi, wait no more, wait no more.


by

Ali A. Naqvi