Published February 12, 2015 by sidmary


On that hot summer’s day, the woman was was dragged out of her house. The area was deserted but for this group of people- and it was day. It was so hot, one could barely stand being out in the sun- and it was desolate.

The woman had a baby in her arms to whom she clung as if her life depended on it. A look of naked terror and horror adorned her face- and yet she was brave.

They led her to the center of the wide lane beyond the house where the ground was coarse and burning under her feet. Dust and sand settled on it for there was no wind.

They took the baby from her, and she tried to hold on, pleading and screaming. The baby was crying too now- writhing- extending his arms towards his mother, and bawling in the fierce grip of the men. His face was soaked, and her tears fell readily to the ground. One wondered why leaves did not sprout where they fell- but tears are salty…

They held her by the arms and pulled her away, and it took three men to do so. She looked at the angel’s face, then looked away. She looked up at the sun which glared down upon her without mercy, and she looked at the sky which was blazing white, and hurting her eyes. She then looked to the horizon, where far beyond the line of her vision, there were other people and other children.

She then looked at the ground and fell on her knees, covering her baby in his royal mantle from heaven by her body.

Somewhere afar, seas, and crimson blood, and rain and love and pain washed ashore in wild, furious and passionate waves that reached deep into the earth and high up to the heavens. The sun suddenly dimmed, as if a switch had been turned off, and the waves slowly receded, losing their tumult in their mournful sorrow.


“How very tragic,” said Saima, scanning the newspaper at the breakfast table and simultaneously dipping a piece of toast in her tea.

“What darling?” her husband looked up distractedly, sounding vaguely concerned.


Saima went to the office after sending her children to school. She had a long wearisome day, and came home late in the afternoon when her children were quietly playing in the playroom, attended by their nurse.

She washed up and fell into bed, thoroughly exhausted, for a long nap.

As she slept, dark clouds gathered on the horizon far far away.

Occasionally, a passerby would stop and look up towards it, a frown creasing his brow, before he would busy himself again. A few television channels and even news-reporters did a short report on the weather condition, assuring the people that there was nothing to worry about. Some of the newspapers too published a short column on the conditions the next day. When Saima saw them at the breakfast table, she said again: “How very tragic!” and her looked up, a frown creasing his brow, vaguely concerned.


The storm brewed and brewed, and the clouds darkened, and no one knew how, but suddenly they were upon the city, darkening everything.

It was not a storm- it was apocalypse.

The sky tore apart in flashes of bright, white light, and the sky fell onto the earth- but it was crying from more than anger- it was crying from hurt too…and it was as if it was not the sky pouring down, but the sea- and yet, leaves did not sprout, because it was the city, and all the paths were graveled.

The wind howled in every ear, and they all heard- probably for the first time ever. People came out of their homes, and for the first time, they saw too.

Saima gathered her children in her arms, and ran towards the closest, widest expanse of plain land: the mosque. There were already so many people there, one could almost be sure it was apocalypse.

She looked about her, the terror in her heart peeping at the world from behind her eyes. These ran now over many words plastered on the walls. Disjointed words leapt into her visions- words that said “faith” and “brothers” and “body” and “pain”1. Words that said “haraj’ and “bloodshed” and “bloodshed”2.

She closed her eyes, but the mist gathered and her face was wet. The ground shook beneath her feet and she held her children to herself in a vice-like grip. Her eyes were still closed and her children held onto her in terror.

The sky still raged, the wind still howled, and the ground still shook. They reminded one of the seas, and crimson blood, and rain and love and pain, all washed ashore in angry tumult…

–Sidra Maryam

2014 in review…

Published December 31, 2014 by sidmary

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,400 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 40 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

First Hour

Published September 14, 2014 by sidmary

At what fortunate hour

Did the clock if Life

Begin its tour?


Was it yet dark

When life began

With the singing of a single lark?


Or was it day

bathed in golden light

By the sun’s first foray?


Was it as the sun’s descent began,

That trees first breathed

Upon new-born man?


Or did stars twinkle in their hold;

Young and smiling, as they watched

The magic of Life unfold?


Alas! sad Truth!

We cannot know!

We cannot know for sure!


But if I were

To make a guess

Upon the hour


Then I would say

It is the time

Of launch of day!


It was I think, at first light.

The purple blend of coming day

And going night


That man first breathed

And clouds first swam.

Trees first stretched

And birds first sang.


And God above,

looked down and smiled.

And life began.

–Sidra Maryam


Published July 21, 2014 by sidmary

When I look up at the sky

I look for clouds

That will rain,

And blur the boundaries

of countries





and pride.


Because across them brethren,

We are one.


But for now-

As bombs rain down on you,

demolishing mosques,schools and homes,

tearing apart limbs and families,

Orphaning infants,

drawing excruciating screams from mothers,

And only raising your spirits further-

I writhe and scream in pain,

And shed tears from a ripped and tortured heart,


by boundaries.


Bombs rain down on me

Leaving no landscape unchanged.

I see my limbs tortured and spread about me,

Each aching and screaming.


Because beneath the fences,

The land is one.


We look up at the sky,

For clouds

That will rain,

And smudge the boundaries

Into one terrain…

–Sidra Maryamchild


Published July 19, 2014 by sidmary

Fourteen hundred and twenty seven years back, this day, God granted Muslims a victory.

A victory that was so beautiful, and so grand, and so complete, that there is no record in history of a victory so great….also, a victory that was gained without a single drop of blood being shed.

It was the conquest of Makkah, the land that Muslims were forced to flee when its inhabitants made life so harsh on them:persecuting, boycotting, taunting and killing them, that they were given permission to migrate.

In the Conquest, eight years later, the Prophet(saw)assembled those persecutors, taunters, haters and unbelievers, and asked them what decision they expected.

They said “You are a noble brother and a noble cousin.” He said there is no punishment for you today. You are free.

Fourteen hundred and twenty seven years flash forward. 

Muslims are persecuted, taunted and killed. Numerous children are massacred inhumanly, and the number rises as Israel starts its ground invasion. 

But a verse pronounced then, echoes over the fieldsand mountains and valleys; over cities being bombed, and houses and mosques and schools being shelled. Over the cries of tortured civilians, screaming children, and valiant freedom fighters.

A verse: “That truth has come, and falsehood has vanished, and indeed, it is in the nature of falsehood to vanish.”

But there is more in the spirit and remembrance of the Conquest of Makkah for Muslims to remember at this perilous hour. History says that you must believe, you must have faith, you must strive and struggle, you must stay united, and you must never give up!

There will come times upon you when you would be starved. When you would have to fight, and sacrifice the things most beloved to you for your Lord. When your children will cry and you will be incapable to calm them. When the enemy will advance and you will be afraid. When you will be few and the enemy would be great. But through these steps, the help of God will come. 

But the spirit must never die, and the faith and teachings must never be compromised.

Happy anniversary of the Conquest of Makkah to all the Muslims! May you grasp what it says!

And to all the Non-Muslims, may you learn to appreciate it! (Ameen)

-Sidra Maryam

Published July 15, 2014 by sidmary

there…we are needed

عائشہ ناصر

there’s a part of me that knows Palestine like it knows Pakistan. this is the part which loves it in the deepest of my conscious memories.

there’s a part of me wanting to be there, not just in spirit, but there. really there. there to help. there to do good. there to babysit. there to wash the blood and nurse the wounds. there to be at the frontline. there because where else should i be. there where i am needed more than ever before. there in a house that was never their home. there in the place which even the walls cannot encapsulate. there where the sea was never a stranger. there where i feel no fear.


I am from there. I am from here.
I am not there and I am not here.
I have two names, which meet and part,
and I have two languages,
I forget…

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#GazaUnderAttack | July 13, 2014 Funerals after Family Massacre in East Gaza – In Photos

Published July 15, 2014 by sidmary

Occupied Palestine | فلسطين

Photos by PalToday – July 13, 2013

Israel is using international banned weaponry again

Read and Witness more:

At this blog:

 At Sabbah Report:

View original post 887 more words

Helping Oppressed Muslims

Published July 15, 2014 by sidmary


What is our stance concerning the slaughter of Muslims in Palestine and other parts of the world that is happening right now, where houses are being destroyed, farms are being wrecked, children are being killed, the wounded are being detained in the streets, houses are being bombarded and people are being prevented by the Jews and others, from buying the food and drink that they need?

What can I, as a Muslim, do?

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What the world is doing with Israeli atrocities in Gaza?

Published July 15, 2014 by sidmary


Ongoing Israeli Airstrikes Kill 14 In Gaza, Death Toll 121 reports Countercurrents.

Israel bomb hits disabled centre in Gaza says Al Jazeera

Israel targets Gaza mosque as death toll passes 120 reports The Hindu.

News – and Muslim News – such as the above do not matter!

Watching World Cup is more important than voicing concern for human life.

Who cares whether a Muslim is burnt alive or a mosque is destroyed in Gaza!

What the International community and Human Rights organisations are doing?

Where are the people who designed the slogan ‘War on terror’? Sleeping? or Pretending to sleep?

Stop hypocrisy and be a man. Be a human being.

Stop double-standards and show that you care. By stopping the aggressors!!

View original post 514 more words

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