When Will My Words Drink From My Blood! (Now, Suitable For Publishing)...

9 March 2010

By Abu Dujanah al Khurasani

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

(Notice : I had decided not to publish this article as (If you are trialed, hide it) but the scenes of the blood of Muslims in Gaza, of children and women and oppressed from the Ummah of Muhammad (peace be upon him) from who were killed by the bombs of the brothers of the monkeys and pigs, emboldened me to publish this article; that perhaps it might awaken the determination in the self of someone in the land of stationing, and the reward will be written for me)

I am no longer able to write, and I have a desire to be led to early retirement

I am bankrupt...withered... tired... bored

I try to write an article on this topic or that, and write a sentence or two, and then my words change to "broken words" ... till I feel that I am suffering from mental confusion and emotional incoherence

My sentences have started becoming heavy on my self, and my words have started surrounding me every time I close my eyes
These feelings that I carry ... I cannot carry anymore

I feel as though my words have become vain and expired, and are dying between the hands of their writer, I feel as though I have become old and aged; people pass by me and whisper : an old man whose offspring have died. For every day that I spend sitting back steals some of my age and health and determination, thus broadening the gap between what I dream of and what I am actually on, so that every praising rhyme turns into an elegy and all the fire burns my heart for the love of Jihad to ash.

O you who write about Jihad and incite to it, be conscious not to fall in my problem, for the worst of all my fears is that I meet a man who passed to his Lord as a martyr because of my words and then I die on my bed

This is a nightmare that haunts me, and tenses my nerves, I fear to be sympathized with on the Day of Judgment and I stand in front of mountains of sins and be asked about them, one by one, and the judgment prolongs and the perspiration increases, while they turn in the rooms of Paradise in Ever Lasting luxury

One of them would ask the other: Did you see a man whose name was Abu Dujanah al Khurasani, who used to incite for Jihad... And the other replies: But he died on his bed, a humiliated sitter back, and would it be that he had learned from his own words, he was like the candle that burnt itself to give light to others

How much I fear for my health and take care of myself, for I fear that I die on my bed as the cattle die, and By Allah I don't bear that. And I fear to be exposed on the gathering of the Day of Judgment if I am not killed by the weapon of my enemy. I fear to be labeled as a liar, and my words to be the proof of my guilt. With every death I hear about, I die, and with every disease I am told about I fall sick, and with every year that passes of my life I age a decade of time, and this is the Sunnah of Allah in those who sit back…

This is a condition I know about, and it is, what is called the dying of the heart,
For my words will die if I do not save them with my blood,
And my feelings will die if I do not ignite them with my death,
My articles will stand witness against me if I do not provide evidence for my innocence from hypocrisy, and there is nothing that will extinguish its truth except my blood

If Allah destines for you to enter the city that my words and feelings live in, you would find my picture hung on its walls and pillars Written below it (Wanted: dead or already dead)

O Mujahid in the Way of Allah, even if you are killed in the way of Allah a thousand times you would not be able to thank Allah on the blessings of leaving to the battlefields.

So say, Praise is to Allah who has spared me from what He has trialed others with

And do not impress on Allah with your work, but Allah is to impress His blessing on you that He has guided you to what you are in.

And do not say that my good deeds paved for me the way of leaving, don’t say that my truthfulness cleared the obstacles in my way, but say that Allah blessed me with this blessing without me being deserving of it, as is the case with all His blessings, and don’t scorn at me if you read about what has befallen me so that Allah might trial you with my bed and blesses me with your gun.

Ahh! Ahh!

Abu Tayyib al Mutanabbi got killed by a line of poetry that he told, so how do not all my articles kill me?

His son told him -when he was about to give up – are you not the one who said:

The horse the night and the deserts know me - and the sword, the spear, the ply and the pen

So he plunged at his enemies and fought them till he died,
Not in the way of Allah, but so that people do not say he was a coward

So how come my writings in the way of Allah do not kill me?

For it is either me or they!
For the world does not have space for both of us
It is a must for either of us to die… so that the other lives
And I wish I am the one who dies

By Allah if the reward for martyrdom in the way of Allah was nothing except forgiveness of sins and being spared from questioning, it would be rightful on me to spend for it the precious to the most precious, then what if it is the Highest Firdaws?

Then what if it is the companionship of Muhammad (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him)?

Then what if it is sparing from the Greatest Fear?

Then what if it is intercession for 70 of the family?

O brothers forgive me for crying, for Umair bin Abi Waqqas cried when the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) sent him back due to his young age, and the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) tendered for his crying and allowed him,
His brother Sa’ad (May Allah be pleased with him) used to say : I used to carry the sheaths of his swords due to his young age,

He fought until he was martyred in Badr (May Allah be pleased with him) and his age was 16,
Forgive me for crying, and where am I from the seven criers who came to the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) to carry them for Jihad in the way of Allah so he told them (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) : “I do not find what to carry you upon”, so they went and they were crying till the verse was sent down :

I reflected upon my large family, and I counted more than a hundred or more from those amongst the dead and living and I did not find from them any martyr or a father or mother or brother of a martyr,

I don’t know a martyr of whose “seventy” intercessions I can have a share, so how come I do not fear? How do I not panic? How is it that my heart will not come on the verge of parting? and in front of me, a great door of intercession has been closed?

O Allah I ask You not to bring death upon me except in Your way as an accepted martyr,

O Allah I ask You that I cause in your enemy an enormous vexation, then I am killed below the rubble of a house destroyed by the Jews or Christians, and the rescuers do not remove my body, so that it turns into a human manure that gives rise to a fertile fruit of which a Muslim child eats so that he grows up to be a Mujahid.

This is the martyrdom, how much have the free, fallen in love with it,
It keeps busy all their world, they even think of it before they sleep,… after they wake up, even in their dreams,

Some of the Companions of the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessing of Allah be upon him) came to al Baraa bin Malik (May Allah be pleased with him) and he was sick on his bed, and he read worry on their faces, so he said (May Allah be pleased with him) : “Might be you fear that I die on my bed, no By Allah, My Lord will not deny me martyrdom”

So don’t blame me that I fear to die in other than the way of Allah, for if the Companions of the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) used to fear and hate to die on the bed, what about the poor sinful slave?

When I saw this picture that was put by one of the pious brothers:

At that time I felt my self as a prisoner in the hands of tens of tyrants, and after shackling and binding my hands and legs, they said to me, see how the Jews kill your sister and you are watching!

For my self is a “tyrant” that sits on my chest and fastens my ties
And my sins are another “tyrant”
And prolonged hope is a “tyrant”
And the Arab apostates are “tyrant”
And the partitions that separate us from the children of Zionists “tyrants”
And the border guards…and the workers between us … and the Scholars of evil… all of them press against my chest, enemies with in me and outside me, separating between me and the Jews and the Christians, and in order to reach my Jew and Christian enemies, it is necessary that I remove myself from below the feet of these tyrants, to make it like the attack of a fearless lion who does not accept defeat.

Anyone who saw those painful scenes and his self did not speak to him about leaving, should pray the funeral prayer on his manhood… no … but on his maleness, for manhood… we have lost it since we accepted sitting back for the first time.

They were killed and their conditions said:

I, O beloveds am a Muslim woman, whose heart is longing for the Sharia of guidance
I, O beloveds am a Muslim woman, whose dreams have been trampled by the deceivers and hypocrites
They took my child while his voice raised “Mother” and his eyes were filled in compassion
My son, as I hear the sound of his strangled screams, while in the distance ring mocking giggles
And I am dragged by a scoundrel into his cellar forcibly, as the surroundings grow grim
And my dignity screams in my chest and my purity complains, and manners close their eyes
I do not want your food or drink, for my blood here, O Muslims, is being spilled
My honor here is being desecrated, so where is your pride, isn't there amongst you a defiant whose heart still beats

O Brothers, how will I run on the Day of Judgment from there questions to me:
What did you do for us O our Muslim brother and you saw us Killed at the hands of the most despised of creation!
Please by Allah tell me my excuse, what do I say to them? O Ali, O Ahmed, O Hasan, O Abu Omar, what will you say to them on the Day of Judgment when they ask you
Will I say to them, sorry sister, for I was dining with my wife and children in a peaceful house?
Will I say to them, I feared the apostate rulers in Allah and did not fear Allah in them?
Will I say to them, I was a coward and I wished for one or more day in this perishing world?

By Allah if on the Day of Judgment there was no plight except the plight of this question, it would be an obligation on us to leave in the way of Allah form the closest airport or border gate,

The voice of Shaikh Abu Musab al Zarqawi used to ignite the feelings in us, and enliven our conscience, then what did we do?
The holder of that voice is gone and we are still saying to every caller for leaving that came to us after him : Be Lenient on the glass wares, Be Lenient on the glass wares!

I never wished before to be in Gaza, but today I wish this (and I am a man who is killed by his wishes or Allah has mercy on his condition)… so that I be a Havin bomb being put on by the Muwahiddin in their cannons and then they say the Takbeer on me,
Or I be a bomb loaded taxi that takes the largest number of Jews to Hell and what an evil abode,
Or I be a worshiper in the presence of his gun, who has bid goodbye to his family and kissed the hand of his mother, and his children, he left without hugging them in the fear of becoming weak, he waits the nearing of the Jews till he can take revenge for his religion or he dies in the way of Allah, he does not carry in his side except dates that do not fill a palm or two of his hands, for he awaits his end on an empty stomach

As if I can smell the fragrance of Paradise blowing from the direction of Gaza, as if the skies have opened wide welcoming the people of Allah and His special ones, in the Land of Stationing,
For in the Lands of Israa and Miraj, there are accepted souls that rise to their Lord and others that get elevated
So dust your hands O Men of Islam, for the Ummah of Islam will not come from your side, for the Land of Stationing is searching for the likes of Abi Musab az Zarqawi and Abu Al Lais alLibi and Umar Hadeed and Imaad Uql, and let your wish be Martyrdom in the way of Allah Almighty:

A boy who died between attack and stabs a death
That stands in place of victory if he surpassed the victory
And did not die until the attack of his sword was dead
Of attacking and on top of him were spiked canes
He firmed his feet in the pit of death
And told it, that below your loins is judgment
Tomorrow is return and praise has fastened its robe
For he did not leave except that his death cloth was the reward

Your brother in Islam
Abu Dujanah al Khurasani

EsinIslam.Com