Martyrdom of Janab E Qasim


Martyrdom of Qasim

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“…many of Al-Husayn’s supporters had been killed by Umar bin Sa’d’s army when a young lad came out against us. His face was like the first splinter of the new moon and he carried a sword. He was wearing a shirt and a waistcloth (izar), and a pair of sandals, one of whose straps was broken.

Umar bin Sa’d bin Nufayl al Azdi said to me: “Let me attack him.” I said: “Praise be to God, what do you want to do that for? Leave him….”

But he insisted: “By God, let me attack him.” So he rushed against him and did not turn back until he had struck his head with his sword and split it. The young lad fell face downwards and called out: “O uncle!”

At this al-Husayn showed himself just like the hawk shows itself. He launched into attack like a raging lion and struck Nufayl with his sword.

That man tried to fend off the blow with his arm but his arm was cut off from the
elbow, and he gave a great shriek of pain which was even heard by the people in
the camp. As al-Husayn turned away from him, the cavalry of Kufa attacked in order to save Nufayl but they only succeeded in trampling him to death beneath the horse’s hooves, and the dust rose.

I saw al-Husayn crying out: “May the people who caused your death perish. For the one who will oppose them on the Day of Resurrection on your behalf will be your grandfather (Ali). Then he continued: “By God, it is hard on your uncle that you called him and he did not answer you, or rather he answered but your cry was too late to help you. For by God, those who kill his relatives are many but those who help him are few.”

Then he carried him in his arms. It is just as if (even now) I am looking at the two legs of the boy making marks (as they trail) on the ground. He took him and put him with his son…and the other members of his household who had been killed. I asked about the boy and was told that he was Qasim b. Al-Hassan b. Ali b. abu Talib.
(from Kitab al-Irshad)

The Canvas of Blood

“You are the artist of Islam, Husayn.
On the canvas of Karbala
You painted with your blood,
Each mujahid of yours
A brilliant stroke of red
Illuminating the darkness of that time.
Habib spread the white of his
hair in that blood
Hur trod his footsteps from
that end to this
Qasim spread the broken pieces of his body
Ali Akbar brought his heart
Abbas adorned it with his arms
He let them be cut lest they
interfere with Husayn’s
great masterpiece
Ali Asgher – the small mujahid
gave his smile,
his innocence,
And, yes, his blood.
And Husayn you –
you orchestrated it-
Your hair turned white
Your steps were leaden
Each part of your body,
torn…
Your heart pierced
Your arms cut off
Your smile taken away
this was what you faced…
when you came to the canvas
To make your contribution
You gave yourself – but not quite,
You stood back and looked,
it wasn’t enough.
I ask you….What was left?
You turned to the tents
you asked Sakina.
Sakina – she gave her father
her sacrifice,
And you asked for more…
You said Zainab –
Zainab, I need your hijab!
After all this, O Imam,
Some say we remember too much.
Some look at the painting,
yet forget why the artist
painted it.
No!
As long as we look
at the canvas with the eye of our heart
We will never forget –
Never forget why the artist
painted it.

But if we turn away
and in turning away
think we are progressing –
No…
It is just that –
turning away –
It is just our hearts growing blind.
“For surely it is not the eyes that grow blind, but it is the hearts (which are in the breasts) that grow blind.” (Qur’an 22:46)

– Atiya Hussain

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