The Summers of 2007 …A Voyage of Learning

A room filled with more than many a face

Nothing but silence were there to embrace

And yet this journey to take I choose

For which I’ve craved a decade to cruise

As Captain, Professor Abbas a tall gentleman

A voyage of 100 hours from now till then

Surely, we’ve all heard of mysteries at sea

But many a more mysterious awaited us on MTC

He commenced with a spell with a quote by Ivor Goodson on education

About the courage to teach he posed us three question

He went on yet to explain the 12 conditions of learning

And filled us with pride with the 4 payments of teaching

He gave us the MBTI test to understand individual divergences

The test they administer to the fortune 500 companies

My bedroom and the computer the only windows I knew

But He hushed me with the Johari windows so new

Forming a relationship of trust, honesty and courage, our ARENA he expanded

Potential he called it when a name we demanded

With discipline style, belief and action he yet did come

If an Effective teacher you wish to become.

Surely, wasn’t it enough to just be a teacher and continue teaching?

That he continued to burden our backs with invitational thinking

On empty rumbling stomach from home we came

Awaiting longingly for the delicacies that continuously came

He called culture a language and stories its alphabets

When the world says A to Z are the English alphabets

He said language was central to law and worship

And banking and entertainment and even friendship

The newspapers are filled with tales of crisis

But he mentioned something completely alien, the ELT crisis

About the absurdities of its politics we heard

The GTM and the communicative method

We’ve all heard of countries and their colonization

But who’s ever heard of anything as absurd as Language colonization

And just when we thought the sea-sickness had ended

Little did we know that reading was so multifaceted?

Miss Diane yet another guest joined us, my dear friends

With Miss Mcaldowney when he brought in the IMLS

He continued to attest us guilty of crimes so many

And yet another quote so uncanny

If you teach a child all meaning, dependence you are teaching

But a lifelong skill you teach, when you teach to derive meaning.

Information is useful you will all agree

But instruction description and narration was yet another spree

The teaching of writing is the job of Allah

He even taught us that, I swear by Allah.

Brigadier Saheb came on one fine bright morn

Enlightening us with a book as dazzling as dawn

The weekend was filled with lots of fun

When to the Fatimiyah conference we all did run

On Monday which is always as gloomy as ever

We were back in class till what seemed forever 

With great care he taught us the purpose and as well as the definition of writing

But in frenzy were we, when he continued with the process of writing

Lawyers and ministers indeed had portfolios

But our students would also bear writing portfolios

The portfolio would bear 5 mystique experiences


Then came the queerest of em all

The testing method which made us nearly fall

With the differences between teaching which integrates all skills

And testing which completely isolates skills

How promptly we were served Dal, chawal and kheer

When Sir couldn’t stop saying fateha on our tests so queer

Ah, now he showed us the bridge which lead us to a much awaited destiny “Trainer”

With Ten Commandments that weren’t at all easy as ever

We looked forward to the following day

As he promised us a game which would be gay

Patiently we waited as the box he opened

The change game which we realized never ended

Discipline to me was a solitary power, I thrust upon my class

But the Fifth Discipline stood apart in its own class

With loads of manuals and notes and mental load

He continually named books that we must hoard

Joy mingled with melancholy as the shore was at sight

My folks of 100 memorable hours would now take flight

And where and when and how we’ll meet

Though their memories in my mind all vivid and neat 

 My heart could do a skip and a dance

To have friends like you seems more like a trance!

These days I will always treasure in my heart so close

Like those precious days when without a care a child I was

My hands to Almighty in prayer are raised

For loyalty and strengths to all that We’ve learned

And for my Mentor I would not ask for anything but the BEST

As he has given us of him, only the very BEST.

If out of time I could keep…

I did my Master Teacher’s Course in the summers of 2007. Today as I was going through my shelves in the study, I came across this poem autographed by all my dear friends, which was my parting gift to my colleagues and my teacher Sir Abbas Husain, who I spent 100 important life changing hours of my life with. Memories of those days came flooding in and even though i haven’t chanced to meet alot of these people since 2007, yet memories of each are so vividly alive. I pray that may they all be safe where ever they are and hope that sometime in life, I’m able to meet them once again… And to Sir Abbas Husain, He set me on the path to becoming a life long learner and till date, he is always there with a ready hand to walk me through whenever I have needed forever and always.

If out of time a moment I could pick,
And keep it shining span and spic
Of all the moments that I have lived
Unmatched is the joy of the days we have shared….
A room filled with more than many a face
 Nothing but silence were there to embrace
And yet this journey to take I choose
For which I’ve yearned a decade to cruise.
A journey we embarked upon on the 4th of June
Which commenced at daybreak and went beyond noon.
Listening to the different stories of our lives
Made us happily settle within our hives
Promising to be only the very best
As we now began to feel at ease and rest
A tall gentleman Professor Abbas he was
Within seconds my friends he got us close
As a river of sweet waters began to flow
To quench our thirsts and to help us grow
A lady I met, the youngest of us all
Parveen left me dazzled with her wisdom and all
Hats off to Nazim, Sana and Naghma who’ve come
In quest for the best so far from home
A leap did my heart as Talha I met
His mischief his innocence and smile straight to my heart did get
Ata, Masooma and Nafisa, their humor so refreshing
Samina with her ridas always so dashing  
Zehra inspired me no end with her reading
Surraiya, with Montessori was always leading
The Farzana’s were quite an amazing pair
Such depth and serenity they had to share
Zainab was always so alive and fun
Naheed’s work was always done
At the door by magic would always smiling Nawaz appear
With a heart warming welcome that always made me cheer
Farah forever left me surprised
 On measly wheatables she always survived
Once upon a time from America came
Each heart she stole, Saima was the name.
Sadia & Razi made their appearances with the manuals and sheet
Never a crease on the brow and so nimble and sweet
Silent at first did Shakir seem
Until Miss Diane brought out that gleam
A great English teacher Saleem I’m sure is
He has his Information in but a whiz
I was sure an attitude Zareen would boast
But she turned out to be with us on the same coast
So devotedly did always Tahmeena work
Fauzias ideas were always a perk
Sajjad was always such a darling,
Came hail or storm, he never stopped caring.
Munira though I’ve never met,
My gratitude to her for the delicacies we get
How promptly she served us Dal, chawal and kheer
When Sir couldn’t stop saying fateha on our tests so queer
Tasneem’s laughter will forever ring in my ears
With her high pressure too she managed to be all cheers
Hameeda with her persistence and patience left me astonished
Treading forward yet her steps admonished
So calm and composed was Arwa Ezzy
To get along with her was so very easy
Young Nasir seems a little shy and new
But even then was always up at a cue
Amazingly well the Fatema’s set in
Lateefa in AbdulQuddooos’s shoes came in
From the Fatimiyah a Shama to be lit she came
I hope she’ll light candles all the way to fame
To Brigadier Saheb my earnest gratitude I owe
A book by which he enriched my treasure cove
My heart could do a skip and a dance
To have friends like you seems more like a trance!
These days I will always treasure in my heart so close
Like those precious days when without a care a child I was
My hands to Almighty in prayer are raised
For loyalty and strengths to all that I’ve learned
And for my Mentor I would not ask for anything but the BEST
As he has given us of him, only the very BEST.

In Retrospection…

Building on the Word – Leaving the Darkness

A deafening silence engulfs the streets

Fear, doubt, terror and anguish hover close

The shackles of turbulence and turmoil weighing down

Horror and depression deluge and suffocate

Throats parched with hunger and thirst

Darkness engulfs and uncertainty drowns


The sound of the Azaan fills  the heart with tranquility

His (TUS) voice in dua eliminate all fear and anguish

Turbulence and turmoil abate with Zikre Hussain AS

His (TUS) messages  arrive to calm and revive

Bags of grains and food in abundance to satiate

My vision clears, as His nazaraat envelopes

And conviction strengthens

With every breath of the heart

Resonating, reverberating through my entire being



Like a trundle on wheels

Each day envelopes into another.

Life… seems to have slowed down in its tracks

From the race of the daily thrust, the shove and the monotonous mechanics

Slowly and noiselessly ,

Alas! to  a dead pace.

Silence envelopes, stillness prevails,

Painfully, like needles against the spine.

With great effort, I gaze through the crevice of my fingers

At the sun, that sharply blinds my eyes

Gifting me a ray of hope.

My vision becoming clearer

My time in contemplation emerging stronger

My reflection turning robust

The insecurity will slowly emerge and dwindle

As the artistry  of the mind valiantly  and incessantly works,

While volatility becomes  sensational serenity.

And perhaps this window of solitude has been the healing elixir

Leaving my soul, my heart and my mind

Rejuvenated and recuperated

With strength in my conviction , resilience in my faith and ardor in my belief .

Positive Interdependence it is…


March 4th 2020

Dear NTCPs,

Welcome to day 10 of this wonderful journey that we all embarked upon on the 14th of February.

It is amazing how a room full of strangers can gel in within no time to become a strong TEAM. Where we have learned to share both tears and cheers.

As we now move on with classroom practices, after a glimpse at the theory of multiple intelligences, we will today look at cooperative learning.

Cooperative learning is dear to my heart for many reasons, but mainly because when I turn to the streets and see injustice, crime and corruption to its fullest, I realize that we as the teaching community didn’t do something right and therefore my city and my country is what it is.

I have had the privilege of studying cooperative learning at University both intensively and extensively while I did my MBA in Educational Leadership. I was fortunate to have Sir Abbas Husain as my teacher, who has had the honour of hearing about cooperative learning directly from its source, Barrie Bennett.

Collaboration brings people with different backgrounds, skills, expertise, and perspectives together to brainstorm ideas, overcome obstacles, and utilize creative problem solving for increased efficiency.

We’ve all heard the age-old adage: two heads are better than one. But putting two, three, even four heads together means giving a fresh outlook on challenges or ideas to provide innovative thinking and boost productivity in a way that helps increase efficiency. Interdependence is a term we are going to zoom in on this afternoon.

While working on this workshop, I came across an interesting term, “the silo effect”. The silos mentality is a reluctance to share information with colleagues of different divisions. This attitude is seen as reducing the organization’s efficiency and, at worst, contributing to a damaged unhealthy environment.

It made me smile when I thought, but isn’t that exactly what we always do? Consciously or unknowingly we prefer to keep our ideas, our learning to ourselves for obvious reasons. LOL!

The famous Michael Jordan famous basketball player said: “Talent wins games, but teamwork and intelligence win championships.” 

So Oh talented people, let us lead into the future with MULTIPLE INTELLIGENCES, TEAMWORK and the spirit of CHAMPIONS.

Yours Cooperatively

Arwa Khuzaima 

For the love of teaching and learning


March 3rd 2020

Dear NTCPs,

I believe you’ve had a great time examining classroom language through fine-tuned  binoculars. This has actually made us realize the truth within a statement that we hear too often, “a teacher either makes or breaks a student. I’d like to share an image here that explains the role of a teacher in making the student.

Aahhhhhh! Yes , teaching is all about being large hearted isn’t it?

Today, we will be exploring the theory of Multiple Intelligences in the classroom and I’m very excited about sharing my learning, my finding and my practices with you here today.

I’d like to begin this class with a story.

It was a lovely hot summer’s day, but the animals of the forest were not happy. The lion had been having ideas again. His latest was this – that everyone had to pass a test before they were allowed to drink from the pool. The pool had been drying up and there wasn’t enough water to go round.

None of the animals knew what Lion’s test was, but they all started getting ready anyway. The snake was good at curling round things and fitting into small holes, so she slithered off into the undergrowth to practice.

The monkey could climb trees and make lots of noise, so he swung off, chattering loudly to himself. The elephant could squeeze things and was great at trumpeting with his trunk. So he found a few smaller animals, held them carefully under his foot, and gave them a loud blast with his trunk. (Don’t worry, the little animals were only slightly dazed!)

The anteater burrowed her nose into a huge anthill and tried a new technique she’d been working on – the multiple slurp. Just then, the lion loped up. All the other animals stopped what they were doing as he opened his mouth to speak.

‘Animals of the forest, the summer is hot, water is scarce, and the pool is drying up. Only those of you who pass my test will be allowed anywhere near it.”We knew that,’ they thought, collectively. ‘But what’s the test please?’ they asked

‘All you have to do,’ said Lion, ‘is squash a pineapple.’ The elephant looked happy, while all the other animals had long and thirsty faces.

So, with this story, let us begin!

Multiply Intelligently


Arwa Khuzaima 

A new note to begin a new day


February 24th  2020

Dear NTCPs,

I hope you’ve all had a good weekend.

Surely, it’s been a festive weekend with the PSL in the city. It is indeed a heart warming feeling to watch the stadium lights lighting up the skyline of Karachi and the “City of Lights” showing off its extravaganza to the visiting teams.

The part that I enjoy the most as I too sit glued to the screen with the family, is the witty quick footed commentary. Surely the way the commentary flows keeps the excitement and the thrill alive for those sitting at their screens. It must mean lots and lots and lots of perfect practice before such excellence is achieved. Which means that if we want to be good captivating speakers, practice is the name of the game.

Today, we are going to be examining strategies of reading and writing. Whilst I worked around reading and writing over the weekend, I came across this extremely interesting extract by a famous author which I decided to share with you.

“The real importance of reading is that it creates an ease and intimacy with the process of writing; one comes to the country of the writer with one’s papers and identification pretty much in order. Constant reading will pull you into a place (a mind-set, if you like the phrase) where you can write eagerly and without self-consciousness. It also offers you a constantly growing knowledge of what has been done and what hasn’t, what is trite and what is fresh, what works and what just lies there dying (or dead) on the page. The more you read, the less apt you are to make a fool of yourself with your pen or word processor. …”Read a lot, write a lot” is the great commandment.
                                                (Stephen King, 
On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, 2000)

And here are some great definitions of writing. I begin with one from my teacher.

Writing makes me know what I did not know, I knew.

Prof Abbas Husain

I realized the impact and the volumes that this quote spoke when I started writing myself. Then only did the penny actually drop about the impact of another quote that Sir had shared with us.

Writing like life itself is a voyage of discovery

Arthur Miller

When I sat down and put my pen to the paper, I experienced pure BLISS!

One last quote which has been an inspiration to me, from a famous author considered one of the most important modernist 20th-century authors 

 “Every secret of a writer’s soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind, is written large in his works.”

 Virginia Woolf

As a gift from today’s workshop, I would like you to experience the nostalgic feeling of the artist at his canvas, creating a picture worth a thousand words.

So let us begin today with some FREE WRITING!

Literately Yours

Arwa Khuzaima 

A Message to the participants of the Novice Teachers Course


February 21st 2020

Dear NTCPs,

It is indeed heartening to hear from my colleague Ms Mehar, how passion for teaching set in with realization of just how important it is for teaching to be beyond just a profession and actually be a passion.

Thus, to be a teacher, I must be a lead learner. To be a lead learner I must be able to find ways of learning, interacting with other teachers, listening to the best of the best practices and of course READ, READ and keep READING!

Over today and Monday, we will be exploring techniques that we as individuals can adopt to improving our language within the comforts of our own homes. Remember, English is a continually evolving language. Just for the sake of information, statistics of January 1st, 2020 show that the English language officially has 1,057,379.6 words that are recognized by the dictionary.

Web 2.0 was the one millionth word that was added to the language at 10.22 am GMT on 10th June 2009.

Yes, we completely recognize the fact that every word in English can not be used. It’s going to be impossible.But we certainly can aim at enhancing the vocabulary we understand or recognize.

I see words as a painters tools, his brushes, the tints shades and hues he uses upon his canvas, to create a picture, to create meaning and to satiate his mind and quench the thirst of his soul.

So without further ado, let us explore some techniques which are a promise to help us improve our own language.

We take inspiration from the famous acclaimed poet of the 20th Century T.S Elliot

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”

Yours Verbosely

Arwa Khuzaima


Serendivis was what the Romans named it, the Arabs called it Serandib and the Persians knew it as Serendip. Yes, interestingly these are all names of the island country of Sri Lanka. Even more interesting, is the fact that the word serendipity is derived from the name of this beautiful island in the Arabian Sea. History also states that Sri Lanka gets its name from it’s tamil origin “to shine and glitter”. It earned this name on account of the glittering gold and gems found on its surface.
As I listened with rapt attention to the waaz Mubarak that started pivoted upon optimism as its central idea further elaborating the three levels of hope, forgiveness, the hope of sublimity and the hope of a waseelah.I thought of Hurr AS, and how he asked for forgiveness as he came and lowered his head before Imam Hussain AS, and Imam Hussain granted him beyond his quest as with his strength and vigor he battled the rivals and attained hurriyat in the world and hereafter.
Fitris the angel whose wings had turned depleted and weak found clemency and mercy by gently caressing his wing against Imam Hussain’s AS body.
I began making connections with the name of the country that Maula TUS had selected as the venue for Ashara Mubarakah. It was certainly not coincincidental. I thought to myself, that the world today is in turmoil, there is illness, there is fear, there is unrest in every nook and cranny, in every street, every state and the world at large. Since we live in this world, it is inevitable that we go unaffected. But when the blazing embers of balaa turn our way, Maula’s nazrat raheemiyah leads us through. When the torrents of calamity come our way, we stand anchored deep within the saya Mubarak of Maula’s dua Mubarak.
I have so often seen people in hospitals running from one doctor to another for opinion after opinion. But a Moomin seeks just one opinion, one word of dua with an autograph saying MEEM SEEN and those two letters ardently lead a Moomin from helplessness to optimism as he is assured that Maula’s dua Mubarak will transform these troubled waters into peaceful streams.
Lo and behold Oh Moomin, right from the day that Ashara Mubarakah began this year, Huzure Aala TUS, recited the Ayat shareefa stating Fa izaa azamtaa fatawakalto Ala Allah. This Ayat shareefa turns every hardship into a blessing, every calamity into a boon and every niqmat into nemat as we stand steadfast our lives, our souls and our entire beings anchored to Maula with a single plea never to fall away
And this day in true glory is Serandib shinning with the affluence of wisdom that Maula TUS graciously continues to enrich each soul as each one of us stands steadfast on the island of Maulas mohabbat close within reach, or far beyond . As the mountains and the seas divide yet one, on the island of Serandib ,within the serendipity of Labbaik Ya Hussain. Within the solidarity of Labbaik Ya Dai Allah.

A Memento…

I sat at the threshold… filling my vision with every intricate detail of the zarih Mubarak….wanting to etch every detail upon my mind and soul…. to take away with me and revisit it every day….I wondered when my fate would bring me back to this glorious haven.
My eyes travelled over the smooth marble, the majestic doors where we would stand and utter the words ” A’adkhul Ya Syed us Shohadaa…..:seeking permission to enter the granduer… my eyes caressed the silver and gold of the zarih Mubarak, where every plea was answered, every ailment cured, every worry washed away and dua answered with AMEEN.
I continued to gaze , my vision blurred from the tears that came steadily, seeking to ask and ask for yet some more. But realization dawned as Moula’s voice echoed and rang through my ears as he led us through the 23 acts of Karbala. It was as if Moula was right here in this pristine land this eve leading each of us into dua. Leaving no stone unturned, no plea remained for me to quest, for he had granted beyond my quests and way beyond what I could fathom.
I lowered my head in sajda, inhaling the fragrance that the Raudah exuded, knowing full well, this would be one of my last few times here, until fate favoured me with permission to enter this haven again…
As I lifted my head from sajda, quite interestingly my gaze settled on a feather that lay upon one of the carvings on the zarih Mubarak. It was a big feather, it made me wonder where it might have come in from. But whilst I sat thinking the feather got blown off the zarih and now blew across the expanse of the plush Persian carpets that covered the gateway and stopped where I sat.
It lay on the ground just where I sat, not moving even though the blowers were strong.
I picked up the feather, completely drenched in tears and put it into my hafti, knowing full well that this feather was meant to be mine. To carry over the miles… as a parting gift…. a memento, a souvenir that said “till we meet again…”

A night at the khaimagah…


The walk through the bazaar bustling with ramazaan nights street life brought us to the large gates of the Khaimagah in Karbala. I walked quietly inside, each step slow and small, heavy and hesitant, as I gathered every detail….. from the stables that at one time must have housed the cavalry, the green marble walls, the scripture that embellished the ceiling…to the dazzling mirror work. My eyes rested at an enclosure right up at the start… as if in vigilant guard was the place where Moulana Abbas AS had put up his khaimah…. from where the stalwart must have safeguarded the haram from the evil eyes of the enemies…. I treaded on slowly and before long I stood before yet another enclosure that was supposed to have been the mehraab of Imam Hussain AS. Very close by was the place which was marked as Moulatena Zainab AS’s Khaimah and there right at the back was the place that marked the Khaimah of beemaare Karbala… Imam Ali Zainul Abideen AS. I stood rooted, unable to move, my tears an incessant stream as I starred at the night sky and then my gaze lowered to check the time on my watch… Yes… it had been exactly at this hour… this very moment on the night of Ashuraa that the as’haab and the Ahle Bait must have gathered around Hussain AS this very last time… it must have been this moment when Hussain AS urged the as’haab to make their escape through the darkness and yet each stood rooted and firm to accompany Hussain AS till their very last drop of blood. It must have been exactly then… that that the Ahlebait and As’haab fragranced themselves in preparation for the moment they awaited to attain the stature of shahadat. It must have been exactly that hour when in the corner in the dimming lights of a lantern Joon  to fulfill his masters wish, must have sat sharpening and polishing the swords that would be raised in the battlefields the following day…. it must have this hour when Moulatena Banu AS must have cradled her infant of a mere six months for the very last time. It must have been the hour when Moulatena Sakina filled her eyes with the deedar of her dear father to last a lifetime. It must have been just that moment when the little Shehzadi Moulatena Ruqaiyah must have rested her head upon her father’s chest for the very last time. It must have been exactly then that Zainab AS must have conscientiously taken out the qamees that Fatema AS had prepared ever so carefully for her beloved Shehzada as she envisioned Karbala. It must have been then that Hussain AS must have turned to Zainab AS urging her to be strong as he bequested the Haram to her to safe guard and to lead back to their homeland Madina.
It must have been just this hour when Imam Hussain must have visited the Khaimah where Ali Zainul Abideen lay ailing and frail.
I jolted back to reality when the words ” Ilahii ghaarat in nujoom… fell upon my ears… and realization dawned that it was right at this moment, every night for years and years that Imam Ali Zainul Abidein raised his hands as he pleaded and recited this dua as memories of Karbala drew tears from his eyes.
Alas! I walked forward and embraced each pristine enclosure as if engraving and etching every detail upon the canvas of my mind and soul to remain forever….
I returned to the comfort of my bed…. trying to catch some moments of sleep…. but the aura of the khaimagah… engulfed me completely even after my eyes closed…and when I awakened… each detail burned ever so vivid in my mind… compelling me to pen it …. just as I reminisced each moment and every facet…

The placement of the nuqta….TAJALLI, TAKHALLI & TAHALLI

Nuqta in Arabic means the dots on the letters that marks them seperate letters

Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
The power of the NUQTA, indeed we have
As Moula cleansed our grime laden souls and beings
Of the cinders of transgression, deceit and treachery
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
From beneath the grime and filth magnificently dazzling
A nuqta, a speck, a droplet, a grain
A tiny speck of the purest gold
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
The magnificence of this tiny speck of gold
That lay embedded deep within my soul
The speck of my Moulas Muhabbat embellished my soul
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day

Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
The aura of Burhanuddin Aqa and all 28 Duat
Within the charisma of Aali Qadr TUS
Every breath, each syllable and every detail
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day
Every breath in utterance of a single plea
May the fadhl of Mohammed
Live till Qiyamat within Mufaddal
Wallahil Azeem, I have witnessed this day

Wadaa from Ka’abatullah

The sun shone overhead in its full glory. I sat down and stared ahead blankly, oblivious to the heat, totally numb to the occasional shoves that came from people coming in and going out.
I stared on, my gaze unwavering, virtually embracing every brick of the Kaaba, wanting to not let go of mustajaar, feeling quenched after having embraced Hajare aswad, yet wondering when my fate would draw me back to this holy land again.
My gaze swept over the black curtains that veiled the kaaba and pondered upon its wonders. I felt myself being drenched and quenched as I stood under the meezab. The skies of His grace were open wide, it was the expanse of my vessel that was at trial. I stared up at it, my vision blurred…. partly by the sunlight and partly by the tears that made vision almost impossible. My hands raised, yet words eluded me…. I stood rooted there and began to recite Moula’s Eid Qasida. Every syllable of it, a precious gift in madeh of Baitullah. And like each time that I recited these verses, I felt Moulana Mufaddal Saifuddin Aqa’s presence ever so strongly within the Haram.
I’d completed my tawaf, yet felt a compelling pull towards mustajaar. I scanned through my heart wondering what to quest, the words from Moulas Arafa vasila resonating within my ears, fulfilling all that my heart could ever ask. I embraced mustajaar, unable to speak, unable to quest, yet knowing full well, that Moula’s baqaa was all that I could quest.
Though my heart wished to stay forever, it was time for me to retrace my steps…. my gaze fixated upon the Kaaba, as I my lips moved in utterance. ….. Allahuma zid hazal Baita tashreefun wa tazeemun wa takreemah…..

The Abundance of Faiz e Mawaid ul Burhaniyah

My Experience in Nairobi

As I bit into the turkey sandwich after what seemed like eternity after I’d boarded the flight, my first thoughts as I embraced its blandness were about just how much I’d miss the trendy, scrumptious, yummilicious Karachi food . As a child, along with the excitement of air travel, the excitement of eating in the air was exhilarating.  Being a foodie that I am,  I sat and reminisced about the mohogo and ndizi matoke that I’d get to eat during my stay in Kenya.we only get to have these local delicacies during our travel back home, in the heart of AFRICA.

bohra-thaal-an-exclusiceEvery meal time was sheer delight. As the thaal filled with a blend of simple yet trendy, nutrient filled and tasty food. I was in for a surprise when one afternoon  the meal comprised of steak with peppercorn sauce and  my favorite sideline of mashed creamy potatoes were its accompaniments. I thanked my family for specially making steak for me. “well this came straight from Faize Mawaidul Burhaniyah” my sister in law promptly responded. I was amazed at how a meal that needed particular temperature and attention to details, was made for an entire society of over three hundred families. It filled   my heart with absolute delight. At that moment realization dawned…. “I’ve been in Nairobi for over five weeks today, I have no recollection of having had any repeats in the past month as far as the main meal is concerned. Yes, the accompaniments with the roti have appeared twice in five weeks, but I as a homemaker, remember so clearly the uphill task of deciding upon a menu every single day before the bounties of Faiz e Mawaid ul Burhaniyah.

As I sip the last drops of the delicious soup that accompanied the rice today, my heart fills with dua for Moula TUS, who has filled our homes, bodies and souls with the freshness of Faize Mawaid ul Burhaniyah, when the world in entirety is in dialogue  over the severity of famine and drought .

Each one of us around the entire globe lay down to sleep, satiated and filled …. Invigorated and blessed with the best of the very best and a dua that emerges without a single thought… “May the provider of these bounties, our beloved Moula TUS live till the end of time.



FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed



Wallahil azeem we have witnessed
The expanse of Fatema AS’s Shafa’at
As it enveloped the globe
And reached every moomin, young and old.
Within the span of just a single night
FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed

Wallahil azeem each moment from dusk to dawn
Every moomins heart and soul regaled
As it brimmed with Fatema AS’s shafaat
To last till the end of time
FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed

Wallahil azeem our souls have been woken up this night
By the waters of Shafa’at that Fatema AS sprinkled
To gather the abundance of Lailatul Qadr
Within the vessels of our souls
FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed

Wallahil azeem our souls have been satiated and quenched
As our ears resonated with Fatema AS’s Shafa’at
Within the voices of Her Duat
Our eyes filled with the deedar of the tears of Her Shafa’at
FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed

Wallahil azeem each prayer has been answered before I’ve asked
All that my heart could yearn and even more
As the angels congregated to say AMEEN
Upon every dua that Moula sought for each one of us
FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed

Wallahil azeem, I have searched and scanned my heart and my mind
For a wish or a prayer that remains to be made
Alas none is left that my Moula hasn’t quest
His baqaa … is all that my heart doth yearn
FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed

For the baqaa of time
For the baqaa of lailatul qadr
For the baqaa of the  magnificent lands and the resplendent oceans
May Fatema AS’s Shafaat live within my Moula Aali qadr
FATEMA AS’s Shafaat, Wallahil azeem we have witnessed

The Jharoka

salaamiAs I watch the sun set, marking the end of one month, and the beginning of another glorious month.
My mind wanders into ecstasy as it reminisces every moment and every breath of the season of barakaat
Each morning a promising morn as it dawned with our gazes raised and fixated upon the jharoka that opened to the deedar Mubarak of Moula TUS… The jharoka that opened marking the dawn of a promising day… The jharoka that opened to Moula TUS’s hand extending in salaami over each moomin, as if engulfing each one in the safety of His extended arm…. The jharoka which always evoked an aura of being in the courtyard from where within the high pedestals Imam AS watched over His kingdom… The jharoka which was the source of life.
From this day…to the day when this jharoka will reopen vistas of barakaat in abundance , the heart will wait to be replenished…. the eyes will yearn for a single glimpse, the soul will wait to be satiated from what appears to be but a small window…. yet, bears the expanse of the entire universe…. Yes… the entire universe…. and the hands will raise in a single plea…

Noor within our hearts, minds and souls

I was graced with the sharaf of dakhili two years ago. Today, my daughter sits and awaits her sharaf. I feel quite present with her on this august day and I reluve every moment of the time when I experienced it myself.
To sit in the serene and peaceful saahat of Rauzatun Tahera on the eve of Syedna Noor Mohammed Nooruddin RA. The majestic doors of the rauzah lay wide upon allowing one a clear view of both the qabar mubarak. The large chandelier casting it’s light making the beauty, the serenity and the magnificence all too vivid. Engulfed and enveloped by the Noor from within the Rauzah and the Noor in the environment. The mind filling quickly with Noor …. as if like a camera roll, a kaleidoscope of images of Noor…. the soul hears voices that enlighten the soul with Noor. From amidst dreams to reverie, I watch the dawn… knowing full well within my heart … this glory in the sun originates from within my Moula. The soul yet thirsts , yearning to be satiated with noor. This urge has beat within the heart for many a years… Alas! My call has come. I descend into the chambers of Noor.. my tears an incessant stream as I my entire being feels the warmth of the noor from within the khaake shifa . I lower my head, my thirst is finally quenched, my yearning satiated as my lips lightly touch the embodiment of Noor.
I ascend and emerge from the chambers of Noor with a single plea …may this noor continue to illuminate the world and every soul that seeks its noor ….. leading each upon the path of noor delivering it within the precincts of the epitome of Noor… as I open my eyes…from within the eye of the mind…. an image of Noor fills my senses… as I envisage the eternal noor within my Moula TUS…. the embodiment of all Noor….

The Epitome of Noor

moon.jpgThe saahat of Al Jamea tus Saifiyah filled with the recitation of “Noor rupala suhamna…” the cool summer breeze instantaneously bringing to mind memories that are treasured and cherished. The heart,  mind , soul and all my senses filled with Syedna Mohammed Burhanuddin Aqa’s voice in recitation of these verses. Though I’d never been with Moula on the occasion of Syedna Noor Mohammed Nooruddin Moula’s urs mubarak,  yet I had heard Syedna Mohammed Burhanuddin reciting these verses several times. I’d often wondered what was so special about these simply worded verses. Why did Moula RA recite them so often?
Alas it was now time, to unveil the treasures that lay embedded within these lines. 
It was the year of the centennial celebrations. Each day of that year had been special.  Every day Moulana Mohammed Burhanuddin Aqa  showered us with precious gifts to the extent that on  most occasions the entire globe heard Moula live, whether it was waaz mubarak or vasail. Every day of the centennial year was special as it gave us a sense of being with Moula through each  day,  every moment and infact every breath. 
Within those days, arrived the urs mubarak of Syedna Noor Mohammed Nooruddin RA. Moula was in those days in England.  It was that eve, that I finally understood… why since my childhood days, I’d heard Moulana Mohammed Burhanuddin recite the verses of Noor Rupala suhamna so often.  
It was on this very eve,  as an epitome of all the treasures that He had bestowed us with, Moula  bestowed us with the ultimate and the most precious the embodiment  of  “Noor rupala suhamna…”

When the news of Nas Mubarak arrived, I sat pondering on the verses of this kalaam. I now understood Moulana mohammed Burhanuddin Aqa’s indication. In fact now that I think of it, each time that Moula recited these verses over and over again,was an indication of this eternal gift of love, majesty and splendor  “Noor rupala suhamna…” that he was entrusting us to. All the while letting us know that the persona of His Mansoos was a perpetuation of His very own wisdom, His vision, His divinity and His very own Noor in plenitude.
I looked up into the star sprangled night at the candescent moon, a crescent in all perfection. The aura of Syedna Mohammed Burhanuddin RA and Syedna Mufaddal Saifuddin Aqas noor enveloped me and filled me with gratitude and peace. I felt the presence of that eternal Noor .My heart filled with a plea…. a plea that reverberated through my entire being, ” May “Noor rupala suhamna…” Moulana Aali Qadr (TUS)’s noor illuminate the path for every moomin leading each by His hand into the august presence of the embodiment of Noor Imam uz Zamaan where as promised Moulana Mohammed Burhanuddin Aqa awaits to take us forth into the khaimah of Noor where darkness ceases to exist