Everyday is Ashura, is a cry that echos poetically,
From the pulpit to the eulogies, choking with emotions dramatically.
Yet, what does the phrase really mean?
How do we truly live Ashura everyday, can we come clean?
The echo is for the mankind whole,
But the emphasis is for scholars more.
For they can’t claim they don’t know,
Issue is, as Shariati says, what will they do, now that they know?
Will they fulfil their vow for the covenant they made?
Or are they still waiting, until one day they fade?
Fear, love of comfort and narrowed moral vision,
Have let down scores in every season.
The Ummah rose with the revolution of the Holy Prophet,
Yet Ali, Hassan, Hussein, alone were left, as elites filled their pockets.
Scholars went silent when the treaty was broken,
Jihad became a tool for imperial expansion and governance of justice was forgotten.
Imam we mourn stood at Mina and wept for us,
And we weep, per tradition, as we continue to await and fuss.
Isn’t the covenant calling upon us today?
In a world full of injustice as we merely cry away.
