But I had a dream and the next thing I know I was headed to Barabanki , to visit the Holy Shrine of Dewa Sharif,, The Holy Saint was a Maulaiee a great lover of Imam Hussain , it is said during the majlis he would cry profusely for Hussain that his entire body would be wet .. such was the intensity of his devotion and by the side of His Holy Shrine is the Imambada in memory of Karbala And Imam Hussain..
Etched on it are the Words
Shah ast Hussain, Badshah ast Hussain Deen ast Hussain, Deen Panah ast Hussain Sardad na dad dast, dar dast-e-yazeed, Haqaa key binaey La ila ast Hussain
You see beauty hidden behind leaves but a love of Hussein of the soul of a Holy Saint of Dewa Sharif I perceive ..Karbala Tears on Humanity threaded weaves a pain that pulls my soul and heaves clinging to the greatest sacrifice in Islam.. no mightier warrior than Hussein who gave his life for his belief ..he lives while nothing remains of Ozymandias yazid;; a graphic image or is it just a poets dream.. or just a motif... reflecting sorrow as tears in a hand kerchief
In the first quarter of 19th century when the Moghul Empire in India was on its last leg and sectarian frenzy was being spurred up to establish British Rule in the country, a child was born in the quite little town of Dewa in this district, who was destined to influence the lives of a vast majority of people by radiating divine love for humanity with the centripetal brilliance of his soul to guide them on the path of righteousness and piety.
Sarkar Waris Ali Shah of Dewa came of a family of Hussaini Syeds distinguished for piety and learning. His genealogy shows that he was born in the 26th generation of Hazrat Imam Hussain. The date of his birth is disputed varying from 1233 A.H. to 1238 A.H. The author of Maarif Warisya has put the date of his birth as 1234 A.H. corresponding to 1809 of the Christian era. His father, Syed Qurban Ali Shah belonged to a land-lord class and was a man of consider…
he would have to travel all the way to kashmir for one rupee meal or trek to delhi jama masjid area for a 5 rupeee meal or take a train to mumbai close to mr raj babbars house for a 12 rupee meal or he would have to beg borrow steal ..his fucked fate sealed . for politicians on full stomach it is just being funny zestful their words dont heal
they dont feel what a beggar feels who really cares for beggars .. not mr ahluwalia with his economic zeal
an empty paper plate costs more than rs 5 a thought reveals
going round and round the cosmic wheel for an imaginary meal
his flesh was dying his spirit was weak on the road to purgatory a human freak once he was young robust at his peak than came the fall deprivation doom..fate gave him a hard slap on his cheek.. his lot arrogance his lost world now lonely alone totally meek
dekho zalimon gira main asman se zameen par mangta hoon bheek gandu ab bhi waqt hai mujhse ek sabak seek sab yahin reh jayega ..thuk ka thuk peek ka peek
on the cobbled street of remorse like a fallen leaf i dare not ask her what was her grief robbing her of her soul i felt like a thief.. no reprieve her cosmic fate holding on to her belief.. finally i gave her some money along with my kerchief