The Fasting and the Starving

17 Aug 2011

Here is a beautiful poem written by a brother in faith. It is truly a tribute as to how little we suffer and how much we complain. Worth some pondering, especially as it is now Ramadan and we are experiencing a small part of the trials the poor face daily.   

The Fasting and the Starving
- Imran Ali

I awake in the morning,
From the warmth of my bed.
He sleeps not, due to hunger,
He has no tears to shed.

I descend my stairs,
Food I can smell.
He struggles to stand,
As he walks to the well.

I have so much to choose,
There is food to spare.
He gathers water with dirt,
And drinks without care.

I am full from my feast,
The rest goes to waste.
He ate nothing, drank filth,
He has nothing to taste.

I make my intention.
Then to prayer I stand.
There is no water left,
Instead he uses sand.

My stomach is full,
Satisfied, I sleep.
His stomach is empty,
In pain he weeps.

I awake later on,
My sleep, satisfactory.
He has not sleeped at all,
And now works in a factory.

I relax in my home,
With the leisures of the West.
From dawn 'till dusk,
He has no rest.

I read the Qur'aan,
And Hadiths of my Prophet.
He yearns for such knowledge,
But only works for a profit.

I enjoy the holidays,
Time away from school.
He would cherish education,
As it is Life's greatest tool.

The Sun is setting,
I help prepare the meal.
He returns from work, exhausted,
His fingers can no longer feel.

I break my fast with my family,
We complain how it was tough.
He shares a date with his Sister and Mother,
For now, it has to be enough.

I finish the banquet prepared,
Taking it all for granted.
He says "Shukran Alhamdulillah"
And thus his fast has ended.

Later I turn on the TV,
To see images of poverty.
He is monitored by patrolling cameras,
That come from a higher economy.

My screen then shows a boy,
I am told he is my age.
He stares into the camera,
Pondering deeply like a sage.

Our eyes now meet,
We stare at each other.
His eyes see through me,
Just like a brother.

In his eyes I see pain,
I see hunger and poverty.
In mine he can see hope,
A land of opportunity.

I realise that we are brothers,
We belong to one Ummah,
I hear words of my Nabi,
And the echoes of his Sunnah.

I whine when I am hungry,
I have not felt his hunger.
I cry when I am hurt,
Yet he has heard cries like thunder.

Tears stream down at his sight,
As his tears, in my heart, are carving.
Oh Allah, diminsh the difference between,
The Fasting and the Starving.


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