We come from many places
From the poor street down the road
To the houses of the rich
We could be a Chinese or an American
We sometimes have many differences from each other
And we could also look completely different
Sometimes we quarrel amongst one another
So we have many things that keep us separated
Things that keep us away from each other
Like some force to keep us apart
Because of that our chain is destroyed
We are disconnected
Our power is weak and we are divided
But when the call for Azan comes
We would stand forgetting about everything else
We would stand together
We would stand united
We would show the chain of Islam

They say that we're oppressed
Suffocating behind veils
And wear un-attractive bin bags
Shapeless and nameless

They say we're not allowed to be educated
And assume we can't speak English
That we're slaves to men
And we should forsake the medieval religion

The medieval religion that gave me life
And stopped female child infanticide
The one that treats me equal with no false illusions

The one that says that I should be respected as a person not a body
The one that first gave me rights
To vote and own property

The religion that commands me to seek knowledge and educate
To travel for this duties sake
And allows me to keep my name

Islam says that I should be covered
Like all things rare and special
Pearls and diamonds
You wouldn't flash your jewels for the taking

Nuns are admired for their devotion
And respected for their piety
Also clinging on to their modesty
Our models are Maryam or Mary

Not a cent that I earn has to be spent on anyone but myself
And the best of men in Allah's eyes
Is one who treats me the best

We live in a beautiful world
A world created by god
Everything we see, hear and smell
Everything we touch, taste and feel
Well they are all the creations of god
We want to spread, the word of Islam
We want the people to know the creator
We will show the world the word of Islam
People refuse, they would push us away
But all we want to do is spread the word of Islam
We want to preach peace
But others say we bring war
We want the people to know, the message of god
We want to show who was the teacher of mankind
We want to take people away from their doom
We want them to follow the right path
To tell them the word of Islam

I write down my thoughts so they can breathe.
Don't mistake them for poetry.
I write to prove to myself that even on days I awake with my own blood on my hands.
I still am sane.
Or at least something similar to that.
Because if I was truly sane I would hate myself.
And I grew tired of that many months ago.

The sun set in my eyes
the day you left
and it hasn't risen since.

24 hours (as a child labourer)

An everyday morning:
He gets up when it is still dark.
It is his job to collect the coal,
his means of survival- the coal’s black mark.

A regular afternoon:
She’s out facing the sun’s wrath,
helping build homes she’ll never live in.
Trying to clear her obstacled path.

A casual evening:
He stops at the tea stall.
Not to buy himself a pack of wafers
but to serve those who can, forever at their call.

An uneventful night:
She sweeps the store clean.
She’ll be gone by morning.
Like the dust, she too must never be seen.

This is how they spend each day.
This is their life for a meager pay.
At an age to think of books and toys,
they’re drowned in work, away from joys.
Deprived of all we take for granted-
a basic education, carefree times enchanted.
This is the life these children lead.
Is it fair of us to blame the creed?
It is time for us to think, to wonder.
It is time for us all to solemnly ponder.

Out side beauty catches the eye.
While inner beauty,
Captures the soul.