By Aneez Fathima


April eighth a blissful day,

Allah bestowed a baby with ray.

Handsome with gorgeous eyes,

Enthralled us to be in highs.


Responded to the prayer call,

And astonished like a cute doll.

Dad brimmed with tears,

All happiness with cheers.


He struggled as a special child,

World couldn’t accept and chided.

Thrown to death in the earth

I bled even more than his birth


Fire blazed in my belly,

And burnt me alive ‘helly’.

I used to grieve and scream

But he became a dream.


A month before his birth,

My dad prophesied in depth.

Vague was then his phrase,

Explicit now with the phase.


May be a teenager if alive

In Barzakh enjoying live.

Now he is in the Safest Hand,

That won’t throw him to the land.


Birthdays revisited without him,

A painful day that pinned me dim.

Enduring with acceptance,

And thriving with tolerance.


  • A poem dedicated to my late son Faheem.

1 Comment

  1. In every saddness there is an element of His happiness for His creation…The memories will surely make you stronger and wiser…and when time passes through…you will know He had His reasons because He Loves u..


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