Oh Bilal,
I wonder,
if that stone placed upon your chest,
an act of barbarity,
to stifle your tongue,
from mentioning The One, The One,
to suffocate your breath,
didn’t in fact give you lungs,
didn’t in fact expand your breast.

No stone, nor mountain,
would in future find more peace,
and tremble with love and awe,
than by hearing your voice,
And have your breath between them soar.

God made that stone and every stone, subservient to your Ruh,
your Reeh,
your zephyr that passes between your teeth,
from the well within,
far too deep,
for the materialist minds,
for the societal sheep,
to do anything but misunderstand,
but a thousand years and a thousand more,
still makes every believer weep.


Bilal Ibn Rabah, was the first African to become a Muslim.
He suffered tremendously for his pronouncement of faith.
At a time where the Meccan dignitaries were oppressing anyone, be they of nobility or a layman, the punishment endured by Bilal was nothing short of an extension and proof of the putridness that lay within them, the barbarity and hostility they had towards anyone who professed to believe in One God.

Bilal’s would go on to become one of the most infamous rebellion stories.
A slave to wealthy Meccans, upon hearing the call to believe in one God, the equality of men and women before God that Islam espoused, Bilal defied his owners and would not whip Ammar bin Yassir when asked to make an example out of him. So instead, his owner and the rest of Mecca decided to make an example out of Bilal.

They whipped and punished him, dragged him around town with rope around his neck, even dipped him in boiling water, and still, Bilal could only echo ‘Ahadun, Ahad’, – The One, The One. Two syllables that would enrage the Meccans who wanted him to denounce one God and instead worship and acknowledge their many gods.

Umayyah ibn Khalaf, became enraged, being the owner of Bilal, he set about from the start to orchestrate all the punishment. Finally he had a stone brought forward which took four men to lift and placed it upon Bilals chest. Defiantly, Bilal would not succumb, ‘Ahadun, Ahad’, The One, The One.

It was at this time Abu Bakr, paid for Bilals freedom, when Ummayy had realised he could no longer have any use for him, he thought, being the materialist oppressor he was, that the money is better than a ‘useless’ slave.

Bilal was bought off and set free by Abu Bakr.

Upon hearing his story, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) became extremely fond of Bilal.

Bilal would go on to be the official Mu’adhen (caller) to prayer. The Prophet Muhammad preferred him over anyone else because of his sincerity and piercing voice.

So here we have a man, thought of as nothing, a former slave who was persecuted and tortured by the Meccans, now calling the prayer for all Muslims.
His call, which he saw in a dream, has become the only call to be recited by all Muslims around the world 1430 years later.

Bilal lived out his life alongside the Prophet Muhammad and the companions until the day came when the Prophet (peace be upon him), passed from this world.
Bilal was making the call to prayer and upon reaching the part mentioning the Prophet, broke down inconsolably. He finally finished the call but couldn’t bare to be around the place where the Prophet’s scent still lingered, and joined the convoy of Muslims heading to Damascus and settled there.

One night, he saw the Prophet (peace be upon him), in his dreams who asked him ‘Oh Bilal, why is it that you don’t visit me?’ Upon waking, Bilal immediately packed his belongings and set for Madinah.

Upon arriving, he was greeted by Al Hassan and Al Hussayn (God be well pleased with them), the noble grand children of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). Bilal had a deep fondness for them, because they were so dear to the Prophet. So when they requested he make adhan for prayer, he could not refuse their wish.

Upon initiating the call, suddenly Madinah and all its inhabitants fell into shock. For a moment, they reminisced, they were all taken and thought that the Prophet Muhammad had returned and began crying and coming out into the streets, rushing to the central prayer mosque. Upon arriving the joy was apparent on everyone’s faces, it wasn’t the Prophet, but it was his beloved companion and preferred caller to prayer, Bilal. This was the last time Bilal would call the prayer in Madinah.

Bilal would eventually return to Damascus where he passed away.

His story reminds us today that no matter the persecution, God always has a plan far grander than any punishment oppressors can dish out.

From the chains of slavery, Bilal became the echo on every Muslims lips, five times a day at the minimum, reminding them of God, calling them to prayer, calling them to success, calling them to establishment and rectitude of their affairs, reminding them to reconcile, admit error, improve ones affairs and repent from evil or wrong doing. To ask for forgiveness, and to beg pardon. To have thanks and gratitude for fortune and misfortune, knowing well, whatever lay in stall for them, is of the wisdom and knowledge of their maker.


*Ruh – Soul
*Reeh – Subtle breeze or zephyr



I’ve hit and been hit uncountable times
And I still can’t connect to people.

Perhaps why my fists have come down,
and my tongue is my biggest duke.

But even that,
is a mute.

It’s through my pen,
I can summons,
like fingers on a flute.

I tried my hand and normality,
I tried my hand at brutality,
I tried my hand at humility,
I ended back at civility.

My sanity,
remains hidden,
in cavities,
of punching peoples lights out,
and getting mine punched back,
and I still can’t connect.

I lay, I prostrate,
I bend and I stand erect,
I walk to,
I turn away from,
I rush towards,
I flee,
And I still can’t connect.

I give, I take,
I give more than I take,
I leave more for others,
Only for Allah’s sake,
And I still can’t connect.

Perhaps I’m not meant to,
perhaps others are meant to connect to me,
touch me from a distance,
prod me with the broomstick of their fears,
to see if they can connect.

-Wesam El dahabi



how do you unsee
once you have been shown
how do you unknow
once you know
like a seed that has sprouted
wanting to ungrow.

Once you have met the conditions, you are obligated, anything else is treachery and concealment.
The purpose of covering a seed is not to keep it buried, unlike humans, unlike a lie, a seed longs to sprout and it will grow wild if it is shown light. There is no return for the seed once it has sprouted and been touched by light. It cannot return to being concealed. But all it’s nature asks for is to maintain it, prune it, water and keep it’s soil pure so it can bare it’s fruit.

The human being is no different. Lying to yourself, knowing the truth, witnessing it with your spiritual eye, in the depths of you, aware of it’s reality carries with it the weight of acting upon that truth and waiting for the fruits to bare. Like the seasonal changes, so too will you vary, become dry, weak and may even break a few times, or parts of you may fall, but when the environment suits, you will again grow, larger and stronger.

This, you owe to yourself.



Art in background: Huwa by samirmalik on DeviantArt



it can be nothing else if He blew life into Adam

This is the month of return,
the month awash with sins,
floating away in the stream of regret,
turned to foam, turned to mist, turned to nothing.

He has set aside this tumble dry of you, for you.
He awaits with gates flung open,
by the breath of His eminent Being,
a perfumed breath,
of compassion.

He has set for us a bath house,
to ablute outwardly,
more importantly, breathe Him inwardly,
but He cannot dwell in a soiled cavity,
so He asks of us this simple depravity,
leave food, leave water, leave vileness,
for Me.

A month long journey to Him,
reconnecting with the utter-ness of nothing,
so like He blew,
into Adam his breath,
He can blow into you.

God is a jealous God,
He wants to bring you closer to Him,
and there you are pretentious,
vain, arrogant,
an ever dependent earthling,
incessant ego prattling,
go make yourself then,
if you are indeed something.

Oh ingrate, oh hypocrite,
yes I am talking to you, to me,
the writer of this ode of misery,
vile and wretched you live your entirety,
come for one day and be pulled to His gravity,
it’s not ever down, but always and ever upwardly.

In your abasement of carnal fetishes, find your hollow,
create the space, and remove your sorrow,
and find the root of you,
by cleansing with blunt bristles if you have to,
and follow inwards, and swallow,
the bitterness that is admitting,
that you’re merely something borrowed.

One month of your life,
for a lifetime for Him.
And you wonder why the breath of the fasting is like musk,
What else would it be if naught else but God is within?

Ramadan Mubarak to all the Muslims around the world. May this month replace your breath with His divine perfume.

Egoïste – 35

decend into me2

Descending into Me,
Is your ascent to eternity

Descend any which way you want!
He is love,
Let your heart sink,
Drop your ego,
Set with the sun,
Dive into the ocean,
Fall into an abyss,
Lower into your grave,
Whatever your descent,
Align your aim and point your arrow to eternity,
He is The First and He is The Last.
He is The Beginning-less, The Endless.
The Hidden, The Manifest.
That’s where you’ll find the all of me,
That’s where you’ll find He.

Revisiting this series feels good.

Separation pangs

Existence is being able to blow the sorrow notes without the flute,
being able to serve everyone without a face,
to curl your toes without a finger trace,
to heal one another without embrace,
it’s being able to love without a heart,
to see without eyes, feel without fingers,
Be…… without presence,
to be known without name,
burnt to a crisp but still the same,
Your call awaits with endless generosity,
and all I do is run to the next version of me,
when right here I existed because You existed
and all I had to to was flee vanity.

Remembering back to the magnetic pull, the initial heart clutch.
This is where You had me, and sixteen years later, I am still perplexed, understand it not but am drawn to You by it:

‘GOD is the light of the heavens and the earth. The allegory of His light is that of a concave mirror behind a lamp that is placed inside a glass container. The glass container is like a bright, pearl-like star. The fuel thereof is supplied from a blessed oil-producing tree, that is neither eastern, nor western. Its oil is almost self-radiating; needs no fire to ignite it. Light upon light. GOD guides to His light whoever wills (to be guided). GOD thus cites the parables for the people. GOD is fully aware of all things.
Surat nur, verse thirty five

Hopelessness, despair, depression, hope

In a talk about hopelessness and depression, Hamza Yusuf drives home the message for all humankind to stand strong, look up, have hope, change their focus and know their destination.

Don’t despair, be in it, be in it until your last breath!

Watch the short talk here: