The Arrival of the Month of Muharram

What is this uproar that has befallen the world? What is this lamentation, this mourning, this tragedy? What is this great resurrection that has risen from the earth, without the trumpet's blast, reaching the highest heavens? From where has this dark morning dawned, causing the affairs of the world and its inhabitants to be intertwined? It seems the sun is rising from the west, as chaos pervades all the atoms of the universe. If I call it the Day of Judgment of the world, it is not far-fetched; this is the general resurrection, whose name is Muharram. In the sacred court, where there is no place for sorrow, the heads of the holy ones are all on the knees of grief. Jinn and angels are lamenting for the children of Adam, as if it is the mourning of the noblest of Adam's offspring. The sun of the heavens and the earth, the light of the East, nurtured by the side of the Messenger of God, Hussein. The ship wrecked by the storm of Karbala, has been writhing in the dust and blood of the Karbala plain. If the eye of time were to weep over this tragedy, blood would flow from the roof of Karbala. The hand of time did not offer a rose to anyone but tears, from that rose that bloomed in the garden of Karbala. The Kufans even withheld water, and they honored the guest of Karbala. Beasts and wild animals were all satiated, and they sucked the ring from the scarcity of water, the Solomon of Karbala. From those thirsty ones, the cry of thirst still reaches the heavens, from the desert of Karbala. Alas, for the moment when the enemy's army showed no shame, and turned towards the tents of the Sultan of Karbala. At that moment, the heavens were set ablaze with the fire of jealousy, as a loud cry arose from the fear of the enemy in the sanctuary. If only at that time the canopy of the heavens had been overturned, and this lofty tent had become a pillar without a base. If only at that time, a black flood had poured from mountain to mountain, turning the face of the earth black. If only at that time, from the world-burning sighs of the Ahl al-Bayt, a spark of lightning had set the harvest of the heavens ablaze. If only at that time, as the heavens moved, the earth's sphere had become unstable like mercury. If only at that time, when his body entered the earth, the souls of the world had departed from their bodies. If only at that time, when the ship of the progeny of the Prophet was wrecked, the whole world had drowned in a sea of blood. That vengeance, if it had not fallen on the Day of Resurrection, how would the world have dealt with this act? When the progeny of the Prophet raised their hands in supplication, they would bring the pillars of the Throne into turmoil. When they called the people of the world to the table of grief, they first called the chain of prophets. When the turn came to the saints, the heavens trembled, from the blow that was struck upon the head of the Lion of God. That door, whose servant was Gabriel the trustworthy, the people of oppression struck the side of Khair al-Nisa. Many fires from the embers of diamond-like pieces, they ignited and struck at the beauty of Mujtaba. And then, the tent that the angels were not guilty of, they tore from Medina and struck in Karbala. And with the chisel of conflict in that plain, the Kufans struck many trees from the garden of the Ahl al-Aba. Then, a blow that tore the liver of Mustafa, they struck the throat of the thirsty successor of Murtaza. The people of the harem tore their garments, loosened their hair, and cried out at the door of the divine sanctuary. The Spirit of Trust placed his head on his knees, veiled. The sun's eye darkened from seeing that. As blood reached the earth from his thirsty throat, it reached the highest heavens from the earth. It was near that the house of faith would be destroyed, from the many breaks that reached the pillars of religion. His tall palm tree, they struck down to the ground like the wicked, a storm reached the sky from the dust of the earth. The wind carried that dust to the tomb of the Prophet, dust reached the seventh heaven from Medina. Suddenly, the garment of the heavens turned to indigo, when this news reached Jesus, the dweller of the heavens. The heavens were filled with clamor when the turn of the cry from the prophets reached the presence of the Spirit of Trust. This illusion, this false work, was wrong, that dust reached the skirt of the glory of the Creator of the world. Although the essence of the Almighty is free from sorrow, He is in the heart, and there is no heart without sorrow. I fear that the punishment of his killer, when they write it, they will erase the pen of mercy from the record. I fear that from this sin, the intercessors of the Day of Resurrection will be ashamed to speak of the sins of the people. The hand of God's wrath will come out of the sleeve, when the Ahl al-Bayt raise their hands against the people of oppression. Alas, for the moment when, with a blood-soaked shroud from the dust, the Ahl al-Ali will raise the flame of fire. Alas, for the time when the youth of the Ahl al-Bayt, with blood-stained shrouds, will step onto the arena of the resurrection. The group that clashed their ranks in the turmoil of Karbala, in the resurrection, will clash the ranks of the resurrection. What do they expect from the owner of the sanctuary, those wicked ones who strike the sword at the prey of the sanctuary? Then, they will put a head on a spear, that Gabriel washes the dust of its hair with the water of Salsabil. The day that the head of that great one was on the spear, the sun rose bareheaded from the mountains. A wave came into motion and the mountain rose, a cloud came to rain and wept bitterly. You would say the whole earthquake shook the earth, you would say it fell from the movement of the restless wheel. The Throne trembled at that time, that the old wheel fell in the thought that the Day of Judgment had appeared. That tent, whose hair was the rope of the houris, was overturned by the adverse wind like a bubble. The group whose protection was Gabriel, became riders of the camel without a litter. Although that act came from the Ummah of the Prophet, the Spirit of Trust was ashamed of the spirit of the Prophet. And then, from Kufa, the army of sorrow turned towards Sham, in a way that reason said the Day of Judgment had come. On the battlefield, when the path of that caravan fell, turmoil and resurrection were in doubt. Both the sound of lamentation echoed in six directions, and weeping fell upon the angels of the seven heavens. Wherever there was a deer, it pulled its foot from the desert, wherever there was a bird, it fell from its nest. A terror came that the turmoil of the Day of Judgment was lost, when the eyes of the Ahl al-Bayt fell upon those slain. Although the eyes of the martyrs worked on their bodies, they fell upon the wounds of the sharp swords and spears. Suddenly, the eye of the daughter of Zahra, in that midst, fell upon the noble body of the Imam of the time. Without choice, the cry of "This is Hussein" soon arose, as if fire had erupted from it in the world. Then, with a tongue full of complaint, that part of the Messenger of God turned towards Medina, saying, "O Messenger of God! This slain one fallen in the desert is your Hussein, this prey struggling in blood is your Hussein. This fresh palm tree, which from the fire of thirst, has sent smoke from the earth to the heavens, is your Hussein. This fish fallen in the sea of blood, which has more wounds from stars on its body, is your Hussein. This drowned one in the sea of martyrdom, whose face the plain has become crimson from his blood, is your Hussein. This dry-lipped one fallen far from the banks of the Euphrates, from whose blood the earth has become the Jihun, is your Hussein. This king with a small army, who has left the tent of this world with an army of tears and sighs, is your Hussein. This body, which is so writhing on the ground, the martyred king, not yet buried, is your Hussein." When she turned towards Baqi', she addressed Zahra, and made the beasts of the earth and the birds of the air weep. "O companion of broken hearts, see our state, see us as strangers, without friends, without acquaintances. See your own children, who are the intercessors of the Day of Resurrection, in the abyss of the punishment of the people of oppression. In the paradise, throw the veil of the two worlds, and in the world, see our calamity revealed. See the flood of the flood and the waves of the calamity in Karbala. See the bodies of the slain all in dust and blood, see the heads of the leaders all on spears. That head that was always on the shoulders of the Prophet, see one of its spears separated from the shoulders of the opponent. That body whose upbringing was in your embrace, see it rolling in the dust of the Karbala battlefield. O part of the Messenger of God, from Ibn Ziyad, he has brought the dust of the Ahl al-Bayt of the message to the wind." Be silent, Mohtasham, for the heart of stone has melted, the foundation of patience and the house of endurance has been destroyed. Be silent, Mohtasham, for from this heartbreaking word, the birds of the air and the fish of the sea have been cooked. Be silent, Mohtasham, for from this blood-dripping poem, the tears of the listeners have become blood. Be silent, Mohtasham, for from this tearful verse, the face of the earth has been cooked with the tears of the liver. Be silent, Mohtasham, for the heavens, because of the weeping, the sea has become a thousand times crimson. Be silent, Mohtasham, for from your burning, the sun has become the moonlight of the mourners. Be silent, Mohtasham, for from the mention of the grief of Hussein, Gabriel was veiled from the face of the Prophet. As long as the base wheel was, it did not make such a mistake, it did not do such injustice to any creature. O wheel, you are heedless of what you have done, and from hatred, what have you done in this land of oppression? It is enough for your mockery that you have oppressed the progeny of the Messenger, and you have aided the enemy. O son of Ziyad, Nimrod has never done this act that you have done, O Shaddad. You have given the desires of Yazid from the killing of Hussein, see whom you have made happy with whose killing. For every wicked one who is the burden of the tree of wickedness, what have you done in the garden of religion with the flower and the cypress? You cannot do with the enemies of religion what you have done with Mustafa and Haidar and their children. The throat that the Prophet rubbed his ruby lips on, you have wounded it with the dagger of oppression. I fear for you the day that they will bring you forth on the Day of Resurrection, they will bring smoke from your fire to the Day of Resurrection. ::: Mohtasham Kashani :::. We offer our condolences to the lovers of that presence on the occasion of the arrival of the month of Muharram, the month of the victory of blood over the sword. The exact date and time of the arrival of this month of mourning, Muharram, is on the 23rd (twenty-third) of Mehr (7th month) of the solar calendar. According to the solar calendar of the year 94, the first day of the month of Muharram al-Haram 1436, is Thursday, October 23, 94. Also, according to this, Friday and Saturday, respectively, November 1 and 2, 1394, are the days of Tasu'a and Ashura of Hussein.