When Prophet Muhammad
was asked by the companions
about Paradise
He gave a simple
yet profound answer...

"You would know Paradise?
Then reach out...
Reach out
and lay thy fingers
upon the feet of thy Mother.
For there at her feet
rests the gates of Paradise...
Touch thy Mother
and thou touchest the beauty of God's creation,
She is Paradise.
Treat her well,
Treat her gently,
Love her and respect her,

And beware...

Never wrong a Mother,
For her wrath is the vengeance of God,

And know thee well God knows all the things
in the Heavens
and in the Earth...

He is the All-Knowing."



©Rangzeb Hussain

"Once...

In my hands I cradled the dream of a candle,
A candle made from the weeping wax of peace,
The frozen peace of winter did kiss the flame to life at the dawn of time,
A time when life glowing was first born,

He was born on a night where even wolves hushed in solitude,
The solitude of a winter’s sparkling moon,
In the moon's ink a book was spun rich and old,
Old it was,

As old as the child of a dying nightingale,
A nightingale born from the symphonic blood of a Saviour,
A Saviour pure as softly sprinkled snow,
The snow in glory harking,

Harking the flute made from the ice of sublime love,
A love eternal,
Life eternal for all humankind,
This same humankind is now distracted and blind,

We are blind to the silent solace of winter and no longer seek the divine,
Our divine King of Kings it is His song that we forget to sing,
Please sing once more and hark the angels of heaven.

In heaven there was once upon a time...
There was a time,
A time of hope,
Of hope and of mercy.

Mercy and love too,
Love,
Love,
     Love..."*



©Rangzeb Hussain

"Blue,
They were blue,
The memory covered mountains of my country
were haloed with brightly burnished blue...
and then
in the fading of a breath
they were gone.”*



©Rangzeb Hussain

"May your day of delight
be filled with the ravishing rays of light,
May your radiant eyes dance and glide
across the nightly moonlight,
On this day and forevermore may your dreams burn bright."*



©Rangzeb Hussain

"Pray tell,
what be this strange breeze
that does so gently blow,
so gently does it kiss
my eyes & ears?
Methinks, 'tis the air of my land,
my land so far away,
so far away
over the distant ocean,
I didst this morn wave farewell
to my country
of the green hills and sleeping valleys.
Mayhap,
in the weeping of the winter
I shall return to my land
of gentle mists and soft rains..."*



©Rangzeb Hussain

"Listen and weep
at
what we lost..."*

Somewhere in the deep green jungles
of South-East Asia
we freely
sold our soul,
hacked our humanity,
corrupted our compassion...

We buried the Truth
in that emerald paradise.

We are the dead
that walk with bankrupted souls,
we napalmed innocence
and in body bags stitched souls
and catacombed them
in the graveyard of
deceit
&
putrefying
decades of decay.




©Rangzeb Hussain