Monday, 9 July 2012


I rub extra virgin olive oil
into cracked heels.
Her feet are round, pudgy,
She winces and I apologise.
Sipping herbal concoctions with distaste
Hot water bottle against her waist
I wonder why the TV is on behind me
Pupils struggle to focus
She is staring at something beyond me

Tentatively moist hands
Rub between toes 
There are no
Does that hurt?
Or are my hands too cold
Today she lays down at ease
It is too quiet,
Unnerving is the sound as I breathe

Oh her feet are worn,
by burdens carried
Of heavy hearts and
Night time feeds,
There are steps taken
in an undisclosed history
For it is woman who strives
Hands raw to the bone
to feed the children
And build a home

This heart wonders at this world
that is seemingly the same
Deception. I know that it has changed
Systematically from right to left
Thrice. How miserable the passage of time

The narration (hadith) as recorded by Imam Ahmad bin Hanbal in his Musnad is related by Mu`awiyah bin Jahima al-Sulami in which he came to the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and give him peace) and said,
‘O Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and give him peace) I desire to go on the military expedition and I have come to consult you.’
He (Allah bless him and give him peace) asked, ‘Do you have a mother?’
He said, ‘Yes.’
He (Allah bless him and give him peace) said, ‘Stay with her because paradise lies beneath her feet.’

'And We have enjoined upon man [care] for his parents. His mother carried him, [increasing her] in weakness upon weakness, and his weaning is in two years. Be grateful to Me and to your parents; to Me is the [final] destination.'
Surah Luqman Verse 14

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