Halva, Chai, and Ferrari in Taraaweeh!

Inspired from the ‘Cucumber’ story from Maulana Al Arabi Ad Darqawi, May Allah bless him

Deep in the streets of Harare

There lived an odd Muslim called Charlie

He roamed all around

Slept on the dry ground

He relished the nights that were starry

So once Ramadan came finally

The people, they flocked in their armies

Pervading the mosques

Forsaking kiosks

From Indonesia to Mali

And on a wide street in Harare

A mosque was ready for Taraaweeh

The people came in

Through all thick and thin

Including a bloke called Ansari

Ansari was praying Taraweeh

But on his mind was a Ferrari

His cousin had squeaked

He’d get him one cheap

On Eid it would be a finale!

So Ansari had prayed his taraweeh

All twenty rakat without any parley

He felt such a pride

And pious inside

Despite all his thoughts on Ferraris

But just as he left the taraaweeh

He happened to look at odd Charlie

Who sat there not shy

With halva and chai

As if he was having a party

Ansari looked down at odd Charlie

Stern like the winds of Rub’ al Khali

He thought: “this I think

Instead of his drink

He should have observed the taraaweeh.”

Tutting and grave walked Ansari

Immediately looked up, odd Charlie

His insight aroused

He heard thoughts aloud

Emboldened he called on Ansari:

“Dear sir, you have read your taraaweeh

And now you think you’re Qardawi

But this I decry

My Halva and chai

Surpasses your prayer for Ferrari!”



“Not even any water!?”

They ask with such surprise

“No food or drink for a whole month!?”

They gawk with flaring eyes

“Do babies have to fast as well?”

“What about if your pregnant?”

“What if you’ve got your GCSEs?”

“What if you’re adolescent?”

“Do your parents lock the fridge

And ban you from Tescos?”

“Do you swallow your saliva?”

“Are you banned from discos?”

“Can I eat a pork sarnie

Before you while you’re fasting?”

“Will an angel strike you down

With judgement everlasting?”

No food or drink indeed dear friend,

But only during daytime

Babies of course do not do fasts

Pregnant women can decline

Teenagers do observe the fast

Not younger than juveniles

Females don’t fast during menses

We eat when lamps materialise

Fasting in your GCSEs

Inspires concentration

The fridge is packed with iftar food

No disco, but meditation

You may eat your pork sarnie

Before me quite contentedly

But dang and drat! I just swallowed

Some milkshake accidentally!




Fried eggs sizzling, paratha from tandoor?

Buttered paratha in the shape of the full moon?

Paratha filled with succulent Aloo?

Now that would be so absolutely cool!

In Ramadan I just appreciate the food!


Biryani made with chicken and piyaar?

Mango milkshake, my wife is such a star!

Homemade samosa and pakora!

So spicy they would tantalise a Gora!

In Ramadan the food is best by far!


Speeding through rakats in such a hurry?

Coz I’m feeling bloated from the curry?

Head and heart pulsating in a flurry?

I need to sleep, Allah, I am so sorry!

In Ramadan, take your time, no need to worry!

WHAT WILL THEY GAIN TONIGHT?” The angels surveyed.

“Nice suhoor? So, they feel strong at day?”

“Light Iftar, so they feel light to pray?”

“Recite Quran, to clear the disarray?”

“Staying up to perform Qiyam Al Layl?”

“In Ramadan, the nafs can fade away…”

“There’s no fear or grief from these pure days…” 

Ramadan Poem

Ramadan is a month of fasting

From dawn to dusk every day

The rewards of which are everlasting

We observe our fast and we pray

Ramadan is the month of the Holy Quran

The month of God’s revelation

We read the Quran full of patience and calm

And we feel our souls’ elevation

In the morning, we rise for an early meal

We call it suhoor or sehri

Porridge and fruit so no hunger we feel

And yoghurt, some toast and berries.

Then all through the day we continue our fast

No eating, not even any drinking

So slowly and gently the time seems to pass

Eventually our bodies sync in

During our fasting in our Ramadan

The point is to be a better person

Our actions should conjure patience and charm

We should promote our better version

The actions, the fasting, the praying this month

Should make us become inspired people

The hunger we feel should provoke gratitude

Our thirst should make us better people

In the evening upon the repose of the sun

We open our fast with dates and water

Our hearts are so glad and enriched with the food

Our throats are enhanced with flowing water

Then after iftar the evening supper

We observe some special prayers

Taraweeh, a cycle of eight or twenty

Exquisite verses we hear

In the final ten days, we increase in our prayers

We believe these days are really blessed

The night of power counts for one thousand months

The mercy of God is our lesson

Then upon the appearance of the crescent moon

We rejoice on the night of joyful Eid

The families exult and prepare lovely food

There’s sweets, offerings and lovely mehndi

I hope I have told you about Ramadan

In some clear and engaging poetry

And now I am off to adjust my alarm

Soon I’ll be waking really early!

Raiders of the Lost Ramadan

“Quickly, Indiana!” Screamed his young sidekick

“Grab and bag that Ramadan

Before the beasts come quick!”

Indiana held his breath, outstretching his fingers

The kufi on his head slipping, sweat beginning to linger

That jewel, that priceless treasure stood

Tantalizing to his finger tips

Shining like an unearthly maid

Aromatic as a tulip

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