The Twenty-fifth Hour

The Ziauddin University Atlas Blog


Smiling on the wall sits the ancient clock,
Chiming away – tick, tock, tick, tock –
The day attends to your curiosity
And the night courts your dreams
And between the hours on the clock
walk our insensibilities.
The Hand of the Seconds laughs at you,
And my mind spins a tale that is beyond
The imagination of the elves
And my heart beckons to the minutes
To explain the happening miracle,
And as we slide away on the island of existence,
Our gaze looks afar, into the infinite,
Towards the twenty-fifth hour.

About the Author:  Robbins for breakfast, Rumi for lunch, for dinner.

WhatsApp Image 2017-07-02 at 14.54.51Dali’s Persistence of Memory. SOURCE: GOOGLE.

View original post

Lovely years ago 

It’s not often that I lose my ability to sew words and heartbeats together, and when that happens – like it has been since the past few days – then it’s because the magic of the guardian angel was missing.

Lovely years ago, when goodbyes were in the air

I saw the dust of our bond sparkle on the sand of farewell.

A few alphabets strung together

And so many emotions strangled,

I wonder how the mist mixed with the water

And irrigated the meadows of our lives

Only to leave behind an autumn that none of us like.

None of us like; and yet it exists like

The existence of the ghost and the shadow of the melancholy.


It is still out there and you are still finding your way…just your way 

Sailing in the universe

It was out there

Finding its way towards you.

The storm came

And passed and now

The gentle breeze is seeking you

Like a hug from God.

Sailing in the universe,

It is still out there

And you are still finding your way…just your way.

And somehere along the course of this eternity

This collision may happen

But till then,

Hearts may wither

And souls may be lonely.

“Verily, with every difficulty there is relief.”


For a dear friend, my Parabatai – we can beat Jem and Will! 

Dreams big, fears small 

Oceans deep, ambitions tall.

You stand there, my friend, amongst the Unseen;

Battling the tumultuous winds.

The whispers of a lonely heart

strangle the ticking clock within,

But know, O’ Parabatai, that

“Verily, with every difficulty there is relief”.



Qalbi Dhikr 

a deep breath and eyes closed

a bowed head and a crying heart.

and alone you sit there.

none, but you and your rabb.

none, but you and your rabb.

the dance of the world slows down.

what world? who ‘they’?

you and Him, alone.

r-a-b-b”, and you hear the whisper of your heart.

r-a-b-b“, and you hear the tempest raging on your soul.

the wounded heart cries out and then you know,

that out of all that matters,

it’s the silent voice of your heart beating,

“my Lord!”

my Lord!”

my Lord!