Pins, well secured,
pleats, neatly arranged.
The pastel shaded well draped chiffon?
Perfectly kept in place.
No awrah getting revealed,
no wronged gazes,
no trespassing glances.
pleats, neatly arranged.
The pastel shaded well draped chiffon?
Perfectly kept in place.
No awrah getting revealed,
no wronged gazes,
no trespassing glances.
Yet, the hijab of the heart kept slipping off.
Loosened by a fading faith,
by the tea of gossip that's
hot enough to burn tongues,
by the hardened heart
that neglects prayers,
by the drifting eyes that
roam around places they aren't meant to,
by the pride, the envy, the ego
and the hypocrisy carried within,
by all that makes the spirit fall apart
and leaves behind a weary, torn heart.
Yet, still he calls
his mercy calls
by the thread of forgiveness
to stitch the unseen veil of faith.
With grace and hope and light,
to weave the veil of the heart,
the invisible hijab of the heart.
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Poem by:
Hansa Saheer