Stories spin rapidly into one another
We are distraught at the description but
The teller is laughing indifferently
She talks of dreams of black and
Screams at night time and fears that
Boil over and scald her as she recites
Verses to quench the pain
A bystander worries
'I will pray for you'
But quickly adds
'What is your name?'
I laugh a joyful laugh
It reminds me just the same
The time of pre-ramadan dates
Just before iftaar and I asked
Naming one by one
The sisters that I love
'Saliah' I say and pause
I don't know a Saliah but
Here she is in the middle of my prayers
If God is not stingy with what he grants
Then why should I be as I pray for all the Saliahs
of today the future and buried in history
Our prayers are nameless sometimes
They come from the pits of our being
Where the kind hearted masked hero
Is all we know but it is enough
So pray for the faceless souls
Who have painted broad strokes onto
The canvas of our life
So pray and wash the brushes
Complete the masterpiece
Before we die
Allah's Messenger (peace be upon him) said, "When a man makes another his brother he should ask him his name, his father's name and the stock from which he comes, for it binds friendship more closely."
Tirmidhi
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