part 3 ....

The King who has no equal found his voice,
As tears came to his eyes: 'To thee my thanks.
My sister, thou hast uttered Ali's choice.
Go call Abbas, the terror of the ranks.'
Akbar called his uncle reverently:
'The King awaits. My aunt has chosen thee.'

Abbas came in the presence of the King.
'Go to thy sister', said Husain. 'She chose. '
Zainab placed the standard in the ring.
Taking the flag the Lord of Heaven arose:
'Here is the standard thou alone mayst lift.
For thee the Holy Ones reserved this gift. '


He clasped the pole and to his Master bowed,
Then filled with glory touched his sister's feet.
She blessed him, saying: 'Brother I have vowed
My life to thee. Protect me from the heat
Of battle. Go and bring us peace today,
And guard thy brother in this awesome fray.'

Abbas addressed his sister: 'While my head
Remains upon my neck, be not distressed.
Though a hundred-thousand swords on us be sped,
They will not pierce this shield,-my stalwart breast.
The sons of the Lion of God to action rise;
They fight with lions and tear out their eyes.'


To Ali's tomb he turned his noble face:
'Behold each atom has become a sun!
Ah, Lord of Dust! Have mercy on thy race.
Before Husain to martyrdom I run.
My head will fall to save thine only peer;
My blood and sweat are shed upon Shabbir.'

Hearing this, Abbas's wife drew nigh.
At first, she looked with coyness at her spouse.
She blessed Husain and Zainab with a sigh,
And said: 'These sufferings my grief arouse.
But such reward that you have now bestowed
Makes great the honour which we are not owed . '


Zainab laid her head upon her breast,
And said: 'I pray thy womb may e'er give life.'
She answered: 'May my Lady's name be blessed.
Let children be thy fortune as a wife.
May Ali Akbar pass his wedding night
Here 'neath the stars that make this heaven bright.

May destiny ensure their safe return.
Let the cry go up in Yathrib for the Lord.
May dear Umm al Banin with honour burn.
My joy on Ali Akbar's bride be poured.
May henna red his hands and feet adorn.
May his wedding greet the shadow of the morn.'


The little girl, Sakina came and said:
'Where is my uncle? Tell me, why this throng?
Let me place my blessings on his head.
May he be saved by God from harm and wrong.
He takes the standard; may his fame be mine;
For he is Ali's glory, Ali's sign.'

'Come, my dear', Abbas smiled through his tears.
'You're thirsty, and I did not stop to think.'
Sakina answered: 'No, allay thy fears.
Thou hast the standard now, but we must drink.
Go, fill my water-skin. No other boon
I crave from thee. Bring water. Bring it soon!'


Hearing her words, the Sayyid women cried.
Qasim came near and called to the Imam:
'The Syrian army masses with its pride
And fast approaches, bent on doing harm.'
Husain replied: 'No cause for fear this day!
Abbas will bear our standard to the fray.'

Standard in hand, Abbas to action fell.
The barefoot women ran with hair disheveled.
The Lord cried: 'Brood of Mustafa, farewell!
We part. 'Tis time the scores were duly levelled.
This is the morning of the night of sorrow.
Our fading stars unite to greet the morrow.'.'


Grief-stricken, Zainab fell before Husain;
And Bano, stumbling, fell before her son;
Trembling, Kulsum fell, her heart in pain;
Sakina, Baqir fell down one by one.
The garden was despoiled, no gay flowers danced;
The standard like a funeral-bier advanced.

The celestial Lord Abbas with firm intent
Strode out; the soldiers said their last farewell.
The King of Both Worlds left the women's tent,
But Zainab's piercing shrieks he could not quell.
His heart was pained; tears washed his eyes anew,
As when a sun-flower's face is washed with dew.


Just like Muhammad, mounted on his steed,
Husain attached his quiver to the rein.
The tongues of men and Jinn cried out: 'Indeed,
The Prophet's horse descends to earth again!
His graceful movement shames the mountain-quail;
His face that of a bride beneath her veil.

Behold the way his eyes flash, stern and bold!
How proudly struts and sways the noble horse!
His limbs were fashioned in a perfect mould.
He stops and pricks his ears up in his course.
His neck the fairies' hands would fain caress.
Swift as Huma he sports his comeliness.'


The wind began to blow; the horse advanced
With joy towards the desert, gaining strength;
The cavalry took their reins; their horses pranced
The standard, like a cypress fair in length,
Came forth to Iram's garden midst its bowers-
To Karbala, the land of desert flowers.

The five pronged emblem's radiance robbed the sight;
Its gleaming was reflected on the sand;
It lit the high empyrean with its light�
A bridegroom's face veiled in a golden strand.
The emblem and the sun shone in both ways,
Entangling in the air their brilliant rays.


God's chosen army of magnificence!
The infamous enemy flags began to droop.
Brave Hashimites with rare munificence,
Adornment of the earth, an honoured troop.
Each one the seed of Ali, each in price
Was dearer than the groves of Paradise.

Those eight young boys, fair-faced, straight-backed and wise
With awesome strength and grit were Haidar's scions.
Black locks entwining their narcissus eyes,
With little knives they were a match for lions.
Their moon-like breasts for arrows were the snare
They came like bridegrooms to a place of prayer.


The houris from their windows in delight
Called out: 'Bless the Imam and bless his sword.
The earth this day presents a wondrous sight,
For he resembles Mustafa, our Lord.
The banner of Ahbas goes forth unfurled.
The company of the Prophet rules the world

For when the Holy Prophet left his place,
We thought the world bereft of beauty's charm.
But let the old bent sky now hide his face!
Ali Akbar lives to he Husain's right arm.
Just see his comely looks and know his worth.
Muhammad in Heaven; his shadow on the earth.

Suddenly arrows rained upon the horde.
Husain advanced and pleaded with his foe.
His thirsty friends came to protect their Lord;
They struck the Syrian force and laid it low.
With swords held high, the fight w as underway
All strove like Malik Ushtar in the fray.


The King's companions, bent on Holy War,
Raised cries; the earth began to shake with fear.
Fierce lions against foxes to the fore!
The cursed foe in panic to the rear!
To north and south fell lightning on the flanks
And pierced the black clouds of the Syrian ranks.

Now Ali's grandsons fought with might and main.
Their daggers had the force of Zulfiqar.
On shield and shoulder savage blows would rain.
The wounded, dead and dying lay afar.
They proved themselves to be the Prophet's scions;
Nursed by the milk of Zainab, they were lions.

Those tiny little hands, those wrists so white;
Their speed created havoc in the field.
The enemy bowmen broke their ranks in fright,
And pleaded with the Prophet's men to yield.
In them Muhammad's strength was manifest.
'Twas Zainab's milk that fed their lion-like breasts.

Qasim, Hasan's son, so bravely fought;
Surrounded, he roared like an angry beast.
Three days of thirst and hunger were as nought.
With unveiled face no bridegroom to his feast
E'er ran so hard as he attacked his foes
And dealt the Syrian Arzaq hefty blows.

The sword of brave Abbas flashed with such power
That Gabriel sought protection from his Lord
The son of Sa'd there faced his final hour
'Midst shieldless corpses scattered-by the sword.
As lions spring to gain the river banks,
Abbas swam through the waves of serried ranks.


The guards of the Euphrates lost their heads
And like the river's current flowed away.
Black-hearted foes were tossed into its beds;
Their life-breath burst like bubbles in its spray.
Abbas, dry-lipped, took water for his men,
As if the Prince of Arabs fought again.

Ali Akbar seized his victims with a frown,
Like a hungry lion pouncing on its prey.
The proud were vanquished, mighty men put down;
His adversaries o'er the desert lay.
Their heads were severed; no one dared to pass
Beyond the lines defended by Abbas.


On both sides swords rained down till past midday.
The earth and skies resounded with the crash.
With folded wings the angels looked away.
No more the shouts, no more of swords the flash.
The shields were spent; the spears now joined the fight;
By afternoon the army was in flight.

Husain brought back the corpses of his nation;
No martyr's head was severed by the foe.
May no man suffer such dire tribulation!
He cried: 'Alas! Where do their spirits go?
The weight of mountains has been thrust on me.
Such fine array men's eyes will no more see.'

'Mid dead and dying stood the lone Imam.
The Prophet's cloak was soaked in crimson gore.
L)ejected, anxious, thirsty, in alarm,
He heard their victory drums; the enemies' roar
Proclaiming slaughtered martyrs broke his heart;
It pierced his spirit like a poisoned dart.

Only he who grieves can understand.
The garden of life's toil now wasted lay.
No rest from lamentations cruel hand
The lamps were out that once burnt bright as day.
Scattered limbs exposed to seering heat;
On Ali Akbar's corpse there was no sheet.

The King of the Age moved slowly to the tent;
He could not bring his thirsty lips to speak.
Lifting the flap, he cried: 'My heart is rent!
My sister, it is Asghar that I seek.
Now bring him from his cradle to the door.
I long to see his moon-like face once more.'


Muhammad's women ran to him unveiled,
And Zainab brought the baby in her arms.
He took the child, by pangs of love assailed,
And kissed him, overcome by infant charms.
The knife of grief cut through Husain's sad breast;
His holy knee afforded Asghar rest.

He cradled Asghar in his warm embrace.
Outside in ambush lurked black Kahil's son,
Who fired a three-pronged arrow from his place;
It's target was the neck of the little one.
The baby writhed in pain; the Leader cried;
The tiny child was slaughtered by his side.


The baby died, and in the earth about
A little grave w as fashioned by the sword.
The child was buried, and Husain cried out:
'Oh Holy Ground, he mindful of thy ward!
This love of Ali, keep him in thy care,
Ali's pledge and Fatima's treasure rare!'

He spoke and donned his shining arms once more;
His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was red.
Clothed in the Prophet's cloak, now went on w war,
With Hamza's shield alone to fight he sped;
With Zulfiqar, that sword of might and fame;
Muhammad's armour graced his noble frame.


Was it Rust clothed in armour or his steed?
The fiery, faithful horse was swift and fleet.
A bridle, gold and silver, was its lead;
Elixir was the dust raised by its feet.
The blood of Duldul far pulsed through its veins;
Submissive when the Master took its reins.

The days of summer heat defy description.
My tongue burns like a candle if I try.
God save us from the blast of its inception!
The field was red, and yellow burnt the sky.
Cold water was the wish of this poor band,
As flaming winds poured fire upon the sand.


The vehemence of the sun, its cruel glare!
The face of day was burnt and black as night
The Alqama dried up; its banks were bare;
Its bubbles burst and from the heat took flight.
The spring of life was dry; its work was done.
The Euphrates steamed and boiled beneath the sun.

Four-footed creatures sheltered in the lake;
With fish the salamander made its home;
The deer were languid, cheetas would not wake;
The molten rocks became a waxen foam.
The red flew from the rose, green from the glade;
In wells the water dropped in search of shade.


There was no tree that still bore flowers or fruits;
The date-palms were on fire like the chenar.
No smiling rose drew moisture from its roots;
Thorns grew on branches burnt as black as tar.
No limb could stir, no beating heart would race;
All nature bore a pale, consumptive face.

The beasts cowered in the places that were wet;
Birds hid themselves within the forest trails.
The pupils of the eye were bathed in sweat,
And would not peep outside their eyelash-veils.
If one glance came to stand upon the street,
A thousand blisters formed upon its feet.


The lions would not emerge from their wild dens;
Dust hung, around the hazy sun's wide girth.
Gazelles all sought the refuge of the fens.
The firmament caught fever from the earth.
>From pain of heat it uttered mournful sound.
Seeds roasted if they fell upon the ground.

The whirlpool on the water spun with flame;
>From burning bubbles sparks of fire would leap;
The tongues of waves were dry; no solace came
To crocodiles which languished in the deep
The rivers blazed as if on Judgement's Day,
And roasted fish upon their billows lay.

The mirror of the sky was scorched with heat,
And lightning dashed for shelter in the cloud.
Hot-tempered men could scarce stand on their
For morning's camphor cried the sun aloud.
The dome of elemental fire burnt red,
And clouds to even colder regions sped.


In that great heat the King of Nations stood;
The standard's shade, the Prophet's arms no more.
His sighs were flames, his tongue was hard as wood,
His lips were grey, his hack was bent and sore.
Three days deprived of water, now he stuttered;
His tongue tripped over every word he uttered.

The enemy riders let their horses drink;
They led their camels to the watering-places;
The birds refreshed themselves upon the brink,
And water-boys rushed moisture on their faces.
A pious act to care for bird and beast!
Husain, so thirsty, looked upon their feast.

A golden parasol for Ibn Said!
His servants fanned him as he sat; and now
The ground was splashed with water by his guard.
But for Husain no shade to cool his brow.
The blazing sun beat down upon his back;
His blessed countenance was burnt and black.

The son of Said called: 'Lord of Heaven, think!
Give me allegiance, for I mean no harm.
A cooling draught shall I give thee to drink.'
Husain replied: 'Ah wretch, respect Islam!
The son of Ali takes no gift from thee.
>From thy hand water is but dust to me.


For if I asked, then Abraham would come
And fill my cup from the fount of Salsabil;
Woulds't thou give me to drink, oh filthy scum?
With avaricious tyrants would I deal?
Thy very shadow causes flowers pain.
If thou art cut, no blood pours from thy vein.

And if I called, Jamshed would give his cup;
The Prophet would tell Gabriel to bring
A draught from Kausar's spring for me to sup;
On earth the angels would my victory sing.
At my command the world would cease to be.
Iraq and Syria sink beneath the sea.'


He spoke and gazed on Zulfiqar's bright blade.
The son of Sa'd fell back, alarmed and shy.
>From enemy ranks an arrow-charge was made;
The sound of war drums sped across the sky.
The horsemen massed; their spears were poised for war-
Black flags adorned the black-faced army's roar.

The clamour of the drums, the trumpets' cry!
The angels' ears were deafened by the din.
And from its senses all the earth did fly,
As armoured soldiers with their spears moved in.
With shields upon their heads came this vile band,
Like rain-clouds swooping on the desert sand.

Intoning martial verses, Ali's scion
Advanced with Gabriel's hand upon his shoulder.
Onward he advanced�a male lion�,
With sleeves rolled up; each step he took grew holder
The bride of battle was in splendour wreathed;
Husain's intrepid sword was now unsheathed.

The flaming sword was wrenched out of its cover,
As moonbeams fly, as perfume leaves the rose,
As a comely maiden taken from her lover,
As breath departs the breast, as red blood flows.
When thunder roared and all the air did swell,
Laila swooned and from her litter fell.


Husain swooped like an eagle from on high,
As lions in the jungle pounce on deer.
The heavens flashed; the clouds began to cry;
His horse rushed down like water swift and sheer.
The sharp sword cut the foe with thunderous crash;
They fell like mountains 'neath the lightning's flash.

The sparks flew from the sword that cut and thrust,
Heads were severed in the wind that blew.
It beat upon the armour, raising dust.
The wings of Gabriel stretched out and flew.
Those wings were like a charm that all men saved,
For on them Ali's name stood out engraved.

The foe on whom the sword fell split in two;
The blade came down again to make him four.
The path it took was the one Death pointed to;
However hard its task, it craved for more.
No rider in his saddle could be found;
The armour's chains lay scattered on the ground.

Its strike beheaded that tumultuous horde;
Assembled ranks were shattered by its flight;
Each body's castle fell beneath the sword,
And houses crumbled 'neath its torrent's might.
Whoever struck the scimitar fell dead;
Its lustrous sharpness made the streams run red.


Ah God, the river and the sheet of flame!
Fire on water, water set ablaze!
The sword sped onwards, whispering God's name;
Its current woke the still pools from their daze.
It quivered and the evil spate was snared.
With Zulfiqar's keen sharpness nought compared.

The centre, flanks and wings, both left and right
Of the murderous army by Husain were crushed.
The earth v. as spinning as the sword took flight.
>From lifeless bodies all the spirit gushed.
Their souls left like those guests that part in haste;
The market closed; the city was laid waste.


The horsemen bore the sword's almighty speed;
It cut them through and split their horses' girth.
It thirsted after blood and did its deed.
And bloody corpses choked the heavens and earth.
No need it had for grindstone or for flint;

>From land to sky all space shone with its glint.
This sword of autumn spoiled the garden's bloom.
Torn from its scabbard now it craved no home.
Faithful has for faithlessness no room.
Do those exalted with the lowest roam?
Straightness in its curve, and sharp its tongue;
The power to cut upon its breath was hung.


It struck the breast, the heart was bathed in blood;
The fingernails of Death plunged in the flesh.
The cry 'God save us!' poured out in a flood.
It cut down honour, then it struck afresh.
Ten steadfast men could not brook its attack;
Its flaming fire turned all their faces black.

Ranks collapsed on ranks where'er it struck,
Now this way, that way, dashing through the air.
'Where has it gone?' 'Which warrior did it pluck?'
The cries came: 'It is here!' 'No, it is there!'
The archers could not find the way to go.
If heads were severed, bodies did not know.


Those by the water washed their hands of life,
And hands of headless riders lost the reins.
A hand was struck; a heart was plunged in strife.
No hands were left to grab their horses reins.
They fain would hide their faces in their hands;
But, shamed, their feet took off across the sands.

Ah, how they feared the Lion of Creation!
The stream of the Euphrates turned to bile.
Their cruel hearts were racked with consternation;
They could not run, nor could they stay awhile.
'Run!', came the cry, 'before it is too late.'
The river of God's wrath was in full spate.


Although the watery fish were armour-clad,
They hid themselves in fear, mouths open wide.
In whirlpools spun the shields; the waves were mad; .
The crocodiles sought corners dark to hide.
The river would escape the sword's white heat.
But bubbles formed like blisters on its feet.

Divine destruction was the sword's swift blow.
'God help us!', came the cry. 'What can we do?'
Through helmets, then through breastplates it would go,
Then on through saddles, slicing steeds in two.
And when the sword into the ground was thrust,
The Earth cried: 'Save me, Ali, Lord of Dust!'


The bowmen, pressing hard, died in the fray.
Their arms hung loose; their bow strings still were taut.
The horn was cut, their arrows flew away;
One step onto the field and they were nought.
The bird of vain imagining took flight;
The notches on their arrows gaped in fright.

All those who were in archery renowned
Could find no place of refuge but the grave.
And those whose target-shot was always sound
Groped blindly for the life they could not save.
Those archers of perdition, sore misled,
Mistook the arrow's notches for its head.

The lines fell upon lines, and flanks on flanks;
Riders fell on riders, steed on steed.
For five that fled, ten fell among the ranks,
And heralds were despatched with awesome speed.
The army broke and tyranny was dashed.
So rare to see a foe so cruelly lashed.

__________________
Kami kis shae ki hai tere khazaane me mere Allah
Jhukaa ke sar jo maangun teri rehmat mil hi jaaegi...