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~ In your light, I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you.

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Tag Archives: Ali

Be A Stranger or A Traveller On A Path

18 Tuesday Dec 2012

Posted by The Tale Of My Heart in Allah, Angels, Beauty, God, Hadith, History, Human, Islam, Life, Quotes, Qura'n, Relationship, Sufi's, Wisdom, World, Youth

≈ 9 Comments

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A Journey, Ali, Allah, Beauty, Death, God, Hell, Human, Inna, Life, Men, Peace, Qura'n and Hadiths, religion, Sufi's, Tirmidhi, Women, World, Youth, `Abd Allah ibn `Abbas, `Abd Allah ibn `Umar

Your Life – A Journey; 

You’re on a journey. The journey is life. The destination is Paradise or Hell. The path you take on your journey will determine your destination. The length of your journey is not fixed; it will vary for each individual with some arriving at their destination in their youth whereas other will reach old age before they arrive. Yet one thing for certain is that everyone WILL arrive at their destination.

The Prophet (peace be upon him) said;

”What have I got to do with the material world. The example of the material world and I is that of a traveller. Travelling in the afternoon heat, he stopped to rest under the shade of a tree for some moments. Then, he rose and left it.”- (Ahmad, Tirmidhi. The hadith is Hasan.)Ibn Umar narrates: one day I was with the Messenger of Allah (s.a.w.) He then turned to me, held my shoulders with both of his blessed hands, and said:“”Be in this life as if you were a stranger or a traveller on a path.””And whenever Ibn Umar narrated this to his disciples he would add:“If you reach the evening, do not await (to be alive) by dawn, And if you reach dawn, do not await (to be alive) by evening. Take advantage of your Health before you fall sick. And take advantage of your life, before you die” (Bukhari)

Every day that goes by, you get nearer to your destination. Some people have understood – spending every minute preparing with the best of provisions. However many are ignorant and heedless and take with them only that which will burden them.

Ali (Radi Allah Anhu) once stood at the head of a grave and said to his companion,

“If he had a chance to return to this life, what do you think he would do?” His companion replied, “He would do nothing but good deeds.” Ali (Radi Allah Anhu) then said, “If it is not going to be him, then let it be you.”

Al Fudayl ibn Iyaadh (Radi Allah Anhu) once sat with a senior and asked him,

How old are you?
The man replied, 60 years old.

Did you know, said Al Fudayl, that for 60 years you have been travelling towards your Lord, and that you have almost arrived. The man was reduced to silence.

He whispered, “Inna lillaahi wa Inna Ilayhi Raajioon” (To Allah we belong and to Him we return).

Al Fudayl asked, Do you know the meaning of that statement. You are saying that you are Allah’s slave and that to Him you are returning. Whoever knows that he is the slave of Allah, and that to Him he shall return, should know that he shall be stopped on the day of judgement. And whoever knows that he will be stopped, let him also know that he will be responsible for what he did in life. And whoever knows that he will be responsible for what he did, let him know that he will be questioned. And whoever knows that he will be questioned, let him prepare an answer now!

What then shall I do? asked the man.

It is simple, said Al Fudayl. Do good in what is left of your life, forgiven shall be your past. If not, you shall be taken to account for the past and what is to come.

Ibn Abbas (Radi Allah Anhu) heard the Prophet (peace be upon him) advising someone saying,

“Take advantage of five before five: Your youth before your old age, your health before your sickness, your wealth before your poverty, your free time before you become occupied, and your life before your death.”

What will our destination be?

Let us prepare while we are on the journey before we arrive and there is no turning back.
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Demedim Mi

18 Friday Nov 2011

Posted by The Tale Of My Heart in Allah, Angels, Beauty, Culture, Feelings, God, History, Human, Life, Lord, Love, Marriage, Music, Pics, Poems, Poetry, Power, Relationship, Song Of The Century, Songs, Sufi's, Uncategorized, Videos, World, Youth

≈ 8 Comments

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Ali, Allah, Arts, Özer Özel, Beauty, Death, Demedim Mi, English Poetry, God, Happiness, Hate, Hayko Cepkin, Health, Heart, Human, Husband, Life, Lord, Love, Lovers, Maulana, Men, Music Video, Music Videos, Peace, Persian, Relationship, religion, Songs, Sufi's, Truth, Women, World, Youth

Beautiful lover, haven’t I told you*

You can’t suffer our grief
This is a morsel of acceptance
Haven’t I told you, you can’t swallow it

These who don’t eat remain irreparable

Spread blood out from their eyes
This is a phase, it comes and passes by
Haven’t I told you, you can’t hear (sense) it

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you?
This is a phase, comes and passes by
Haven’t I told you, you can’t hear (sense) it

Look at the state of that love*
It doesn’t hesitate to say whatever comes up in its mind
Haven’t I told you, you can’t commit your life
To the way of the truth

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you
Haven’t I told you, you can’t commit your life
To the way of the truth

Lovers are desolated ones*
(Dervishes are desolated ones)*
Find the honor at the stair of the truth
Friendly conversation is sweeter than honey
Haven’t I told you, you can’t get enough of it

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you
Friendly conversation is sweeter than honey
Haven’t I told you, you can’t get enough of it

Let’s turn ourself to Ali‘s body*
(Let’s comprehend the secret of Ali)*
(Let’s go to surrender ourself to Mansur’s hands)*
Let’s appear the arena
*

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you

I’m Pir Sultan and say “our shah”*
Our soul reach the truth
Twelve leaders are our sovereigns*
Haven’t I told you, you can’t conform to

Haven’t I told you, haven’t I told you
My heart, haven’t I said to you
Twelve leaders are our sovereigns
Haven’t I told you, you can’t conform to

,,,

…

,,,

,,,

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Think ! Death Is Certain Why Not Live

04 Sunday Sep 2011

Posted by The Tale Of My Heart in Allah, Angels, Anger, Beauty, Culture, God, Heart, History, Human, Humor, Islam, Life, Lord, Love, Marriage, Muslims, Nature, Peace, Relationship, Sufi's, Uncategorized, Wars, Wisdom, World, Youth

≈ 10 Comments

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Ali, Allah, Arts, Beauty, Bed, Death, English Poetry, FM broadcasting, God, Grave, Happiness, Heart, Islam, Life, Love, Lovers, Malik, Mother, Muhammad, Muslim, Prayer, Relationship, Romance, Salah, Santa Monica California, Saw III, Story, Sura, Uncategorized, University of Southern California, Wife, Woman, Women

 


The Day I Died

It was Halloween night. I made plans with my friends Omar and Malik to go watch SAW 3 at a nearby theatre in Santa Monica, California. We were running late and I realized that I had not prayed Isha but I didnt say anything because I did not want to upset the mood. “Ill just pray afterwards,” I told myself.

I only lived 26 years. My 27th birthday was exactly two weeks away. I always imagined I would live long. At least until age 60. It just wasn’t imaginable that I would have such a sudden, unexpected death.

I graduated from the University of Southern California three years earlier with a degree that means absolutely nothing right now. Shortly after, I landed a job as the marketing director of a major clothing company. Aside from the usual life problems, I was living a normal life.

My girlfriend of 4 years was starting to pressure me into us getting a place together. I knew I wasn’t supposed to have a girlfriend in the first place but I enjoyed her company and friendship. I wasn’t ready to give that up. I used to always tell myself that eventually I would marry her. Plus, what would these few years of living a sinful life mean by the time I got older?

My job, girlfriend and life-friends took up the majority of my time. It seemed I never had time to pray. I hardly even had time to sit down and eat. Offering prayer was always something that irritated me. I did give an effort to keep up on my prayers but for the last two years of my life I gave up. I pretty much stopped praying altogether.

I never made it home in time to pray that night. SAW 3 was a walk through the rose garden compared to what I was about to experience. I was doing 80 on the route 10 freeway. At 12 midnight, 80mph is not considered speeding. Omar flipped through FM radio stations searching for the song he liked. Malik had fallen asleep in the back seat. I began to doze off too. I used to hate when that happened. I shook out of what seemed like a 10 second snooze. I tried to keep my eyes open. But again I dozed off.

Omar screamed, “HEY!” It was too late. The car struck the center divider and spun back into the flow of traffic. An on coming car hit my door. That car was also hit by another vehicle. We finally came to a halt somewhere in the middle of the freeway, a hundred yards from the spot of the collision. I didn’t feel any pain. I was just dizzy. I heard Omar and Malik moaning as good civilians tried pulling us from the wreck.

I wasn’t rescued until the fire fighters arrived. It was quite a task recovering my battered body from my totalled car. Breathing became difficult. The fire fighters huddled around me and frantically applied device after device. “He’s not gonna make it,” I heard one of them say. I’m not gonna make it? How? I didn’t feel like I was dying. I felt nothing. My heart started pounding. I was soaked in sweat and blood. I saw Malik standing over the top of me with tears in his eyes. “Don’t quit on me”, he told me. At that time I knew it was over. I started to cry.

The fire fighters moved him away as they made last attempts to revive me. I died. An angel came to me and removed my soul. I watched him fly away with it in disbelief. “How could you? I’m not even 27,” I pleaded. “It’s time,” he told me and left…

Two minutes later they pulled a white sheet over me. Omar and Malik, apparently doing better than me, pulled the sheet back to look at me one last time. They cried their eyeballs out. I had known them ever since I was 13 years old and had never seen either one cry. It was a depressing sight.

The ride to the morgue, until then, was the worst experience I ever had. I was alone. It was dark and cold. I missed my mom. I missed my brother. I missed my sister. I wished I had spent that last night with my family instead of with Omar and Malik. I worried what my mother was going to do when she saw me in this state. I was ugly. When we finally arrived, I was placed in another cold room with dozens of other dead people.

I missed my family so much. Every so often a family came in to view their dead. I always thought it was my family but it wasn’t. Hour after hour passed. No mom. No dad. I started to cry again. Then one odd hour I recognized voices. My father walked in with my mother in his arms. His face was worn from stress. Hers wet with tears. They just stared into my eyes and cried. I stared back. I wanted to tell them I loved them. I couldn’t. I wanted to hug them. I couldn’t. Mom stroked my bloodied hair and kissed my forehead. Dad held her up from collapsing. He slowly pulled her away.

I was to be buried the next day. When my parents left, it hit me. I never made Isha prayer! My heart jumped out my chest. I owed Allah a prayer and failed to deliver it to Him. I had hundreds of missed prayers over the past two years. Now I was about to face Him. I felt powerless. For those of you who have never experienced guilt at death, there is not a worldly feeling that amounts to it. It is guilt and sorrow at another level. I tried getting up to make Isha prayer but I couldn’t move. It was over. I had no second chance.

Then I began to think back. I never knew my memory was so good. I had more than enough time to ponder as I was awaiting my burial. I literally remember every single prayer I missed and reasons why I missed them. Most were laziness, procrastination and neglectfulness. I knew I was in trouble. I wished they would take longer to bury me. I failed! I failed!

My girlfriend paid me a visit. She was a devil. When I was alive I saw her as a pretty angel. My pretty angel who loved me and would do anything to make me happy. If I had the ability, I would have cursed her and demanded her to leave the morgue. She put her hand on my forehead. I allowed her to do that for the past four years. Now that I opposed to it, I could do nothing about it. The devil cried for hours at my side. She just would not leave. I felt cheated. I felt like she pulled a joke on me for the past couple of years of my life. I hated this devil! She was ugly! She smelled horrible! She finally left… As she walked out the door my heart was filled with fear and anxiety.

The funeral was simple. My body was washed. I didn’t seem to care that my naked body was exposed. My worries far surpassed my desire to be modest. I was wrapped in three white sheets. About 300 people attended my funeral. I was saddened not to see my mom at the funeral. I wished she came to see me one last time before they put me in the ground. I never knew so many people cared about me. Many just stared at the tightly wrapped figure in disbelief. Others cried and cried some more.

The mass prayed for me. Thousands of individual prayers were made. They asked Allah to have mercy on me. They asked Him to forgive me. I wanted to pray for myself but I couldn’t speak. I was helpless. I was carried to the hole in the middle of the barren desert. The people followed. It seemed like slow motion. I didn’t want to go. If I had 24 bonus hours I would pray non-stop. They lowered me into the ground. The anticipation was eating away at me. I had surely failed life.

I thought back on everything I had worked so hard to accomplish. I earned a college degree. I had a well paying job. I spent hours and hours in the gym ever since I was 16 years old developing my body. I had a pretty girlfriend who loved me. In that life, that was a badge of honor. But as they were lowering me into this grave, which seemed like it took forever, I realized I couldn’t use any of those “accomplishments”. If only I had been that dedicated to praying five times daily, I would have been at peace right now. Instead I am a nervous wreck beyond anything you all can comprehend.

Dirt fell in my hole. Darkness overcame my new home. The last shovels of sand filled the grave. Everyone sadly walked away. The graveyard started to empty. Family by family. Mine was the last to leave. I could hear their footsteps as they walked away. By nightfall it was just me. All alone. My wrapping was soaked in sweat. I nervously awaited the angels to come and question me.

They finally did. My final judgment has not been reached yet. I am now waiting for judgment day. Still lying here, alone, as day comes and night falls. Soon I will meet Allah Himself and He will decide whether He will forgive me or not. I can only lay here, wait and hope The All Forgiving, The Most Merciful forgives me and does not punish me. I hope. That is all I have right now. Hope.

THIS IS A STORY BUT THIS IS ALSO THE REALITY OF LIFE. YOU WILL DIE ONE DAY. COULD BE TOMORROW. COULD BE TODAY. FOR THE SINNERS THERE WILL BE TORTURE IN THE GRAVE. PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY. DO NOT WASTE THIS PRECIOUS TIME WHILE YOU ARE ALIVE.

By Zahir

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Dust In My Bed

02 Friday Sep 2011

Posted by The Tale Of My Heart in Allah, Angels, Beauty, God, Hadith, Health, Heart, History, Human, Islam, Jews, Life, Lord, Muslims, Nature, Qura'n, Relationship, Sufi's, Uncategorized, Wars, World, Youth

≈ 11 Comments

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Ali, Allah, Arts, Beauty, Bed, Death, English Poetry, God, Grave, Happiness, Heart, Islam, Life, Love, Lovers, Muhammad, Muslim, Peace be upon him (Islam), Poetry, Punishment of the Grave, Qura'n, Relationship, Romance, Salah, Sura, Uncategorized, Wife, Woman, Women

Dust is my bed, embraces me and it’s my cover now
The sand surrounds me even behind my back
And the grave tells a dankness of my affliction
And the brightness draws a lineWhere is my family’s love? They sold my loyalty!
And where is my group of friends? They left my brotherhood!
Where is the bliss of money? It’s behind my back now
And my name (reputation) where is it shine between praises
This is my end and this is my bed….

And love farewells its longing and my elegizing cried
And the tears went dry after crying
And the universe became narrow and so is my space
And the grave became my ground and sky
This is my end and this is my bed…..

Fear fills my estrangement and sadness is my illness
I expect firmness and I swear it’s my cure
And for Allah I pray faithfully, you are my hope
Allah! I desire heaven, to find bliss in it…♥’

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PERCEPTION & AWARENESS

Attention with intention builds reality

PEMBANGUNAN MENERANGI DAN MENCERDASKAN

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Ein Tagebuch unserer Alltagsküche-Leicht zum Nachkochen

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soulgifts - Telling Tales

Creating magic with words

P e d r o L

storytelling the world

INDIHOPE

4 Year Old Adult

Life is all about making other's lives beautiful and that is what my objective is

Travel & Liking

Koreanish

Alexander Chee

Anne Madeline Designs

Fashion Illustrations

Gravity and Levity

A blog about the big ideas in physics, plus a few other things

Laura Parrott Perry

We've all got a story to tell.

judgmental observer

film, tv, popular culture, higher ed, unicorns

The Dish

Museum in a Bottle

Alli Burness is a Museum Pilgrim

Perspectives on Life, the Universe and Everything

A NOMAD ON THE LOOSE

INNER THOUGHTS

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Bananas in the Falklands

Beguiling, Amorous, Nonconformist, Adeptly Needing Arousing Stimulation oh and Fantastic Kisses.

Donncha

Paper and notes everywhere!

The Muslim Debate Initiative

Muslim Debate News, Commentary and Events

The little things in beauty

Welcome!! This blog is all over the place but it's made with love. It's me, my computer and my love for makeup. So let's go on an avanture <3

Daniel Pátaro

ModAlineARTisTree

Creation is the product of synchronizing our energy with the universe. Once we experience the whole and recognize it, we become aware that we are nothing but the Divine Creative Force.

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An Occult Machine

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Nitrate Diva

Old Movies. Fresh Takes.

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Life in words

Living a Beautiful Life

~ Short Stories, Flights of Fancy and Everyday Anecdotes ~

Hina Khan Palwasha

Espen Stenersrød- From Pen To Heart

Jack Kerouac with a scent of Henry Vaughn

stillness of heart

MUSINGS : CRITICISM : HISTORY : PASSION

BILAL MURAD

GRAPHIC DESIGNER / LOGO DESIGNER / CREATIVE ARTIST

Indie Hero

Brian Marggraf, Author of Dream Brother: A Novel, Independent publishing advocate, New York City dweller

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Croatia, the War, and the Future

Ina Vukic - Croatia: people, politics, history, economy, transitioning from communism to democracy

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writing - novels - film - television - video games - other stuff

Plot in Kochi | Kochi Plots | Villas In Kochi | Lands in Kochi |3BHK Appartments In Kochi

Plot In Kochi At Low Cost.Low cost Villas in kochi.low cost plots in kochi.................

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Everyday, Everywhere We Are Guided Towards Happiness

Great Cats of the "World"

Dedicated to the Great ~Big Cats of the World

A Small Act Of Kindness Can Bring Smile On Million Faces

We upgraded to www.CompassionKindness.com

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hard rock romantic queer wistful beat poetry

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Perception is key to inspiration and a strong tool for mind development

Michael Lee Fitness

Cardio + Realistic Diet + Weight Training = Amazing Results!!!

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