Ustadh Khurram Murad by Alyas
On a special day born as Khurram Jah Murad,
Whilst the subcontinent was wrapped in a charade,
The blazing bright sun rose again in Bhopal,
And rose too did his wisdom, vision and jamaal.
A beautiful fragrance travelling distant lands,
His writings and thoughts reached many around,
His ideas and dreams brought hope again,
During an era fraught with difficulty and pain.
Unstoppable was the veracity of his pure ink,
His books and words made people stop and think:
Where are we now and where are we heading?
We must act now to prevent confusion from spreading.
He was a beacon of light and hope for the youth,
Respected because he spoke only the truth.
His concern and worry was for our days ahead,
And to tell us all the things that were never said.
And as he lay towards the end of his time,
His last will was a testament so sublime,
The importance of dhikr, and a call to action,
His love for the Divine was also his final transaction.
And when the time came for his soul to be parted,
He left us orphaned and broken hearted,
A vacuum was left that would not be filled,
Though still he lives through the knowledge he instilled.
Ustadh Khurram Murad, a beacon of light,
The seeds of wisdom he planted quietly at night.
And as he flew, a spirit beautiful and bright,
The world became dimmed, lost of his light.