The entire courtyard fell into silence.
A wailing began from the woman who spoke and began to spread as more and more people recognized the heads on the spear as Hussain, son of Ali, grandson of the Holy Prophet.
Angry voices and loud howls of grief came from the men on the streets and the aura of celebration faded into one of pain.
"Silence," I spoke firmly. The effect was immediate. I did not need to yell for the wailing and howling to fade into subtle whimpers.
I straightened my back, pulled all the dignity I could muster, remembered the face of my father and spoke to his subjects with a tone he would be proud of.
"Oh people of Kufah! You deceivers! You oath-breakers! You retreaters! You cry, keep crying, don't you ever stop crying! May your chests burn with grief and sorrow until you die. Your promises are weightless and empty, you're filled with vain talk, false pride. You flatter the enemy like a working girl her client, nodding and submitting without quarrel. Your hearts are filled with animosity and malice. You are green grass that grows on garbage heaps.
"You have angered your Lord and invited His anger. Are you crying now? Cry. You ought to cry, you deserve it. Cry more, laugh less, you are tainted with disgrace and trapped in contempt that can never be washed off. How will you wash off the blood of the son of the Seal of Prophethood? You have earned the lofty honour of being the killers of the Chief of the Youth of Paradise. You killed him who is your commander in chief, your asylum in grief, the lantern of your path and the refuge of your hearts.
"You have brought evil upon yourselves! What a heavy weight you carry to the day of reckoning: that of your own annihilation and downfall. Damnation on you! Destruction befall you! Your efforts for tomorrow are wasted, you are ruined! God's wrath will take you and the stamp of contempt and misfortune is emblazoned on your foreheads.
"Oh people of Kufah! Woe be to you! Do you know what part of the Prophet's heart you have cut? Which vow you have broken? Whose blood you have shed? Who you took captive and brought onto the streets? Do you realize whose honour you have violated? The weight of your sins is enough to make the heavens fall, the Earth scatter, and the mountains crumble to dust.
"Do not be surprised if the skies rain blood upon you, remember the Day of Reckoning is coming and its severity is without comparison. Do not think because you are spared today you are safe. Do not for a second believe that just because God's wrath is not immediate, it is not coming. God is Mighty and Sublime. His vengeance does not lapse, He is in ambush for you.
"What will you tell the Prophet when he asks you, how did you fare when you were the last nation with my noble children when some were killed and some captured. Did you stand with them as I asked? I fear for your safety, you of Kufah."
A wail went up once again as a look from Sajjad stopped me from continuing. The wailing continues while shaken soldiers tried to rush us to a small house at the end of the streets, all pretense of celebration gone and sounds of revolt grew around us. Sajjad stood still on in the middle of the street and held up his hand to silence the crowd once more. I looked in awe as my new Imam spoke to his treacherous people for the first time
Nafasul mahmoon
Victory of Truth: the Life of Zainab binte Ali by Muna Haeri Bilgirami
YOU ARE READING
This Is The Land- Karbala
Non-FictionWhat would you do if the nation meant to be ruled by you has been usurped by an unworthy one? What would you do if you were destined to die to teach an entire people to live again? If the one you loved more than anything asked you to give up everyth...
