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Prophet Moammad (SAW)’s mosque in Medina

In 2012 we went to Makkah and Madinah to perform Umrah. Some pictures from Madinah Mosque.

The first three pictures are from the Internet.

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TheMedina mosque at night

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The Medina mosque main entrance at night

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A full moon above a minaret

 

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From a poster. The mosque as it was a hundred years ago.

 

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Posted by on June 14, 2016 in Quraan o Sunnat, Travel

 

THE STRANGER IN HIS OWN HOME

THE STRANGER IN HIS OWN HOUSE.

Translated From Urdu Afsana “Ajnabi Aadmi” by Shaukat Husain Shoro (Published in ,”Mah e Nau” June, 1994).

The original article in in Urdu and can be seen at

https://shakilakhtar.wordpress.com/2016/05/15/the-stranger-in-his-own-house/

He had stopped smoking for the last many days.

But the reason for which he stopped smoking never left him. When Ghulam Mohammad had a fit of cough he became breathless due to protracted coughing. Just now when he tried to stifle his urge to cough, he found that his throat was choking. He was least concerned about his own pain but did fear that his coughing will disturb people sleeping (on their cots) in the courtyard. And this is what exactly happened. His eldest son Anwar complained from his slumber, “Oh my”,

Then, instead of speaking to his father, he called his mother,

“Maa, what a great problem you have let us get in to, one cannot even get some sleep in a part of the night”

The mother Mariam said in an annoyed manner, ”Yes my son, He cares not; what does he ever do except eating and coughing”.

“No problem with his eating, he may eat to his fill, God has given us everything. But he should at least let us sleep”.

“Bhai Jaan, let us set his bed in the drawing room, where he could have his cough as he likes”, said younger brother Ahmad.

“Well done, my junior, what a great suggestion! Do you want others to laugh at us when they would see the filth in the drawing room from his coughing, like sputum and phlegm?”

Ghulam Mohammad was listening all this verbal exchange quietly as if they were talking about someone else. He now quipped, “What is there in me that people will laugh at me?”

“Who is talking to you? The poor fellows are talking with each other” said Mariam angrily, “you are wasting your breath, just get on with your coughing.”

“The poor fellows, eh” Ghulam Mohammad could not control his anger, “Is there anything ever said in this house except taunting me?”

Mariam, who was lying on her string cot, now sat up, “You are ruining everyone’s sleep and expect that they will say nothing?

Anwar came to his father and, putting his hands together, said,” Abba, please have mercy on us. We toil all day and do expect some rest and some sleep in the night. Please do not ruin it.

Now Mariam started grumbling,” I do not know what type of illness is this. He has managed to cough up enough filth around the house.”

“I am scarce happy to cough. I cannot help but cough when I get a fit.” 

“Bhai Jaan, please admit father in a hospital, or he will get us all ill”

“Now I have seen it all! My own sons planning to abandon me to a hospital when I am old!” Ghulam Mohammad said in a sad voice.

Mariam looked at Anwar and said,” Now look, he has started wailing like a woman”

“I do not talk to him just because of such behaviour” he said angrily.

Ghulam Mohammad kept quite as he had realised that it was futile to pursue the matter any further.

“He is no father, but is rather an enemy of his sons.” Mariam now laid down on her cot facing away from him.

Ghulam Mohammad felt a pang of rage but somehow he controlled his feelings.

He felt thirsty, but knew his sons or even wife won’t get him a glass of water. So he himself walked to the water pitcher and looked for the tumbler which was set aside specially for him. When he did not find it on its appointed place he asked his wife, “where is my tumbler?”

“It should be there somewhere” she replied with disdain, “You should take care of your glass”

(a tumbler, even if made of metal is called glass)

“It is not at the place where I usually keep it.”

“Yes, your glass is made of gold, someone might have stolen it” the wife said with sarcasm.

Ahmad came in,” We never touch that glass. Who wants to fall sick after drinking in it.”

Ghulam Mohammad was furious,” Am I suffering with T.B. that one will get sick after using my glass?”

“This disgusting phlegm you spread everywhere is enough indication of T.B.” said the wife.

“Abba has never learnt anything from his education as he goes on spreading his phlegm everywhere.” Said Anwar.

Ghulam Mohammad wanted to reply but his eye caught sight of his glass which was lying upturned on the ground in a corner. This reminded him of the glasses kept aside for the use of the low cast people in restaurants in small towns. He felt he had been reduced to the status of a scheduled cast in his own home. He picked up the glass, drank some water and placed it at its appointed spot.

What a pity a man becomes useless once he is old. The people outside as well as in the home scarce give him any importance, once he retires after working for many years. When he was in the service he knew even then people in his home were not very happy with him. After his retirement his folks complained he did nothing for himself and for them while he was working.

“When you will retire, the government will weigh you against gold because of your honesty?” his wife used to taunt him.

Back then he was strong and would shut her up. But now he was helpless in front of his wife and his sons.

The elder son hardly talked to him and always he was angry whenever he did talk.

“After all what good did you ever do to us? You even stopped me getting a motor cycle, forget about a car. The children of people who were in grades lower than yours go about in cars.” He would complain.

Anwar never allowed the story of the motor cycle be forgotten. How when a contractor came to know that Anwar wanted a motor cycle and his father would not get him one, brought a new motor cycle and gave him, in the hope that Ghulam Mohammad will oblige him by signing his bills, he refused to accept the bait and returned the motor cycle.

That day Mariam and Anwar became convinced that Ghulam Mohammad was their enemy.

They maintained a semblance of normalcy while they were dependent on him for board and lodge. Now when he is retired, their frustration has come out in the open.

He has realized that he has become a stranger in his own house.

He wondered if being honest was from within his own conscience or was it just his stubbornness. He made many people uncomfortable due to his habit. He was always afraid someone might trap him into corruption and this made him postpone even straight cases for weeks.

He now felt that he is a misfit in the society. But it was too late to do anything now. He looked at his wife and sons. They were all asleep. He felt a small itch in his throat. He pressed his hand against the throat. With red face and eyes bulging due to stress, he went to the bathroom and closed the door. Then he started coughing like he will never stop.

Suppressing the noise to the minimum, he coughed to his heart’s content.

 
3 Comments

Posted by on June 2, 2016 in adab and literature, Afsaane

 

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A VISIT TO MASQAT OMAN

We took a short trip to Masqat this month( Feb. 2015) from Dubai. It was a 50 minute flight. Grand mosque was found to be truly grand. As compared to Dubai, Muscat is very humble and simple. There are no high rise buildings. Most are just six story. Food was great and quite reasonable in price. Omani dinar is the most expensive currency in the world. 1 Omani dinar 10 Dubai Dirhams (= Pak Rs. 300).  Sultan Qabus palace also is very humble.

Below are some pictures.

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a view from our hotel room. The whole city is almost level with about 4-6 stories buildings.

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saas bahu in the hotel loby.

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huge copper tryas

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Roofi and Dara.

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The grounds of the Grand Mosque are a complex of magnificent gardens, well kept.

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out side the mosque.

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Post chamber inner dome.

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Main Mosque Imam Member.

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very beautiful Iranian Carpet.

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simple and elegant.

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A typical Omani man. If you see one, you have seen them all. Taxi driver, to shop keeper, to officials, or common man.

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Fore ground

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2 Comments

Posted by on May 29, 2016 in Travel

 

Gulzar on life and ambition.

GULZAR KI NAZM

after Urdu, you will find Roman and English versions below.

صبح سے شام ہویؑ اور ہرن مجھ کو چھلاوا دیتا

سارے جنگل میں پریشان کیےؑ گھوم رہا ہے اب تک

اس کی گردن کے بہت پاس سے گئزرے ہیں کیؑ تیر مرے

 

وہ بھی اب اتنا ہی ہشیار ہے جتنا میں ہوں

اک جھلک دے کے جو گم ہوتا ہے وہ پیڑوں میں

میں وہاں پہنچتا ہوں تو ٹیلے پے،

کبھی چشمے کے اس پار نظر آتا ہے-

وہ نظر رکھتا ہے مجھ پر

میں اسے آنکھ سے اوجھل نہیں ہونے دیتا

 

کون دوڑاےؑ ہوےؑ ہے کس کو

کون اب کس کا شکاری ہے پتہ ہی نہیں چلتا

 

صبح اترا تھا میں جنگل میں تو سوچا تھا

اس شوخ ہرن کو

نیزے کی نوک پے پرچم کی طرح تان کے

میں شہر میں داخل ہوں گا

دن مگر ڈھلنے لگا ہے

دل میں اک خوف سا اب بیٹھ رہا ہے کہ

بالاخر یہ ہرن ہی

مجھے سینگوں پہ اٹھاےؑ ہوےؑ اک غار میں داخل ہو گا-

Subah se shaam hui aur hiran mujh ko chhalaawe deta,

saare jungle mein pareshaan kiye ghoom reha hai ab tak..

uss ki gardan ke bahut paas se guzre hain kayi teer mere …!

 

[Its now almost evening and I have been chasing this antelope since morning

Which evades me like a mirage, now I see it now it is gone.

Many of my arrows have just missed his neck]

 

Woh bhi ab utna hi hoshiyaar hai jitna main hun!

ek jhalak de ke jo gum hota hai woh peddon mein..

main wahan pahunchta hun toh teele pe,

kabhi chashme ke uss paar nazar aata hai..

Woh nazar rakhta hai mujh par!

main usey aankh se ojhal nahin hone deta!!

 

[He has become as clever as me, I get a glimpse and it disappears between the trees

When I reach there I see it on a hillock over there,

or beyond a stream,

He keeps an eye on me as I make sure he is within sight.]

 

Kaun daudaaye hue hai kis ko!

kaun ab kis ka shikaari hai pata hi nahin chalta …!

 

[It is difficult to know who is now chasing whom

And who is hunting whom]

 

Subah utra tha main jungle mein toh socha tha ki..

uss shokh hiran ko,

neze ki nok pe parcham ki tarah taan ke

main shehar mein daakhil hounga …!

Din magar dhalne laga hai..

dil mein ek khauf sa ab baith reha hai ki,

bil-aakhir ye hiran hi..

mujhe seengon par uthaaye hue ek ghaar mein daakhil hoga .!!

 

[When I came to the forest this morning, I thought

I would hunt this beautiful antelope

I intended to enter the street, displaying this beautiful antelope

pinned at the end on my spear like a flag

As the end of the day is close

I fear now that I might end up as his trophy,

He would enter a cave balancing me on his horns.]

 

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The Stranger in his own house.

This story of a retired person who cannot cough comfortably in his own house.

Translation will come later insha Allah.

THE TRANSLATION IS NOW AVAILABLE AT

https://shakilakhtar.wordpress.com/2016/06/02/2429/

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1 Comment

Posted by on May 15, 2016 in adab and literature, Afsaane

 

Akhtar Shahjahanpuri ka sheri Majmooa “Saeban” (Post – 6)

each and every sher is superb. wah wah wah …..

Urdu Poetry - Collection by Saleem Khan

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Posted by on May 11, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

URUDU GHAZAL, MOMIN KHAN MOMIN.

This ghazal is one of the most famous and liked ghazals of Urdu poetry.

Listen it here sung by Nayyara Noor before proceeding.

The translations are given for the benefit of my readers who cannot read/ understand Urdu.

Please bear with me if you find translations not to the standard. I am no expert.

Woh jo hum mein’ tum mein’ qaraar tha, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho-
Wahi yaani waada nibaah ka, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..
[You may or may not remember, but there was sort of peace between you and me
You may or may not remember, there was a covenant to stick together.] 
Woh jo lutf mujh pe the peshtar, woh karam ke tha mere haal par-
Mujhe sab hai yaad zara zara, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..
[ the delight of your advance love and your kindness for my self
 I remember it all, to some extent, You may or may not remember]
woh naye gile woh shikaayatein’, woh maze maze ki hikaayatein-
woh har aik baat pe roothna, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..
[Those ever new moans and and whines, those hilarious tales,

Your being sore on small matters, You may or may not remember]

kabhi baithe sab mein’ jo ru-ba-ru, to ishaaraton’ se hi guftagu-
woh bayaan shauq ka barmalaa, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..

[ when we found ourselves face to face sitting with others, talking with signs

and that longing to talk normally, You may or may not remember]

koi baat aisi agar hui, ke tumhare ji ko buri lagi-
to bayaan’ se pehle hi bhoolna, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..

[If there was a thing that you found annoying
your pretending being forgetful, You may or may not remember

kabhi hum mein’ tum mein’ bhi chaah thi, kabhi hum se tum se bhi raah thi-
kabhi hum bhi tum bhi the aashna, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..
[There was once love between you and me, there was once a line between you and me,

Once we were known to each other, You may or may not remember]

suno! zikr hai kai saal ka, ke kiya aap ne ek waadaa tha-
so nibaahne ka to zikr kya, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..

[please listen, it is many years since, you made a promise to me, 
what is there to say about it being kept,  You may or may not remember]
jise aap ginte the aashnaa, jise aap kehte the baawafaa-
main’ wahi hun’ Momin’ mubtala, tumhein’ yaad ho ke na yaad ho..
[The one you counted as your beloved, the one you swore to be faithful
I am that very indulgent Momin,  You may or may not remember]
 
2 Comments

Posted by on May 6, 2016 in Urdu Poetry

 
 
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