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بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم |
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Hadhrat Abbas, the standard bearer of Hussein [a.s] |
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The shifting sand dunes of Karbala were
smeared with blood. Near one of wash dunes, on the bank of Alkoma, lay
the prostrate figure of a youth with blood gushing out from
innumerable wounds. The crimson life-tide was ebbing fast. Even so, it
seemed as if he was anxiously expecting somebody to come to him, to be
near him before he breathed his last. Through his starched throat he
was feebly calling somebody. Yes, Abbas was anxiously expecting his
master to come to him before he parted with his life, as he had come
to the side of all his devoted friends who had laid down their dear
lives for him and in espousing his cause.
It is said that before a man's death al the past event of his life pass before his mind's eye in a flash-back. In his last moments Abbas was experiencing this. He was seeing himself as a child in Medina following Husain with a devotion which was considered unique even for a brother. He was seeing the events of that hot and sultry day in Kufa when his illustrious father Ali was addressing a congregation in the mosque and he, as a child, with his characteristic devotion, was looking at the face of his beloved brother watching him intently so that he could attend to his wishes on an instant command. Seeing from the parched lips of Husain that he was feeling extremely thirsty, how he had darted out from the mosque and returned with a tumbler full of cool, refreshing water and in the hurry to carry the water as quickly as possible to quench the consuming thirst of his dearest brother, how he had spilled water on his own clothes. He was recalling how this incident had made his illustrious father stop in the midst of his speech, with tears rolling down his cheeks at the sight of his young son all wet with water. He was remembering his father's reply to the queries from his faithful followers as to what had brought tears in his eyes, that Abbas who had wetted his body with water in the process of quenching Husain's thirst would in the not too distant future wet his body with his own blood in attempting to quench the thirst of his young children. He was vividly seeing the scene on the 21st Ramazan, way back in 40 Hijra, when his father mortally wounded, was lying on his death-bed and entrusting his children and dependents to the care of the his eldest brother, Hasan - all except him. Seeing that his father had commended all but him to the care of Hasan - how he, a child of 12, had burst out into uncontrollable tears. His father, on hearing him sobbing, had called him to his side and given his hand in Husain's hand with the words: Husain, this child I am entrusting to you. He will represent
me on the day of your supreme sacrifice and lay down his life
in defending you and your dear ones, much as I would have done
if alive on that day.
How his father had turned to him and affectionately told him: Abbas, my child, I know your unbounded love for Husain.
Though you are too young to be told about it, when that
day dawns, consider no sacrifice too great for Husain and
his children.
He saw before his mind's eye that parting with his aged mother Fatima in Medina. How she had affectionately embraced him and reminded him of the dying desire of his father to lay down his life in the defense of Husain and his dear ones. A faint smile of satisfaction flickered for a brief moment on his parched lips a smile of satisfaction that he had fulfilled his father's wish; that he had performed his duty for which he was brought up. It just flitted for a moment and vanished as other scenes came before his mind's eye. He was re- living the events of the night before. He was seeing Shimr stealthily coming to him; and talking to him about his ties of relationship; about the protection he had been promised for Abbas by the Commander of Yazid's forces, only if he would leave Husain and go over to Yazid's camp; about the promises of riches and rewards that he would get; how he had spurned the suggestion of Shimr with the utmost disdain to the chagrin of that servile minion who had sold his soul for a mess of pottage. How he had scared away that coward by his scathing rage saying: You worshipper of Mammon, do not think that Abbas will be
lured by your tempting offer of power and pelf. If I die in
fending my master, Husain, I shall consider myself the luckiest
person. O coward, remember that valiants die but once. Nobody
is born to live eternally. By betraying my master, you have
betrayed the Prophet, whose religion you profess to follow.
On the Day of Judgement you will be doomed to eternal perdition.
I am ashamed to own any relationship with you. Had it not been
for the fact that you have come here unarmed, I would have given
you the chastisement you deserve for your impudence in asking me
to become a turncoat.
How that wretch had scampered from there seeing him roaring like an enraged lion. The thought of that unpleasant interlude contracted his brows. Or was it the excruciating pain he was suffering on account of the deep gashes he had all over his body? Yet another scene passed before Abbas's eyes - Sakina leading 42 children, each with a dry water-bag. The children were shouting as if in chorus Thirst, consuming thirst, is killing us. Sakina coming to him and putting her dry water-bag at his feet and saying to him: O uncle, I know you will do something to get water for us. Even
if you can bring one bag full of water, we can wet our parched
throats.
He could see that thirst, aggravated by
the scorching heat of the desert, was squeezing their young lives out
of them. The sight of these youngsters had moved him more than any
other soul-stirring events of that faithful day. How he had picked up
the water-bag with assurance to Sakina that he would go and bring
water - God Willing.
How he had taken Husain's permission and marched out of the camp with a sword in one hand, the flag in the other, and the bag on his shoulder, with the children following him in a group up to the outer perimeter of the camp. How Husain had repeatedly requested him to avoid fighting as much as possible and confine himself to the task of bringing water! His thoughts switched over to the events that had preceded his fall from the horse. With the object of procuring water for his dear little Sakina, he had charged on the enemy who held the river banks. He had run through the enemy ranks like a knife through butter. Again this surging onslaught the cowards could not stand and had run helter-skelter shouting for protection. For a moment it seemed as if Ali, the Lion of God, had descended from heaven. In no time Abbas was near the rivulet. He had jumped down from the horse and bent to fill the water-bag. When it was filled to the brim, he had taken some water in his cupped hand to drink and satisfy his killing thirst. But, on second thoughts, he had thrown the water away. How could he drink water when Sakina and the children were still withering without it? How could he be so callous as to forget that his master Husain had not had a drop of water since the last three days. He had turned to his horse which had been let loose so that it could satisfy its thirst. The animal had been intently looking at its master as if to say:
Merciful Allah, spare me long enough to fulfill my
mission.
But that was not to be. An arrow had
pierced the water-bag and water had started gushing out of it. Was it
water that was flowing out of that bag or the hopes of Abbas? All his
efforts had been in vain. After all Sakina's thirst would remain
unsatisfied and all her hopes would be frustrated. The enemies who had
made bold to surround him, now seeing his helpless condition, were now
gathering thick round him. One of them came near him and struck mortal
blow with an iron mace. He reeled over and fell from the horse.
He tossed on the burning sand with excruciating pain. He felt that life was fast ebbing out but his wish to see his master had remained unfulfilled. With one last effort, with all the strength that was left in him, he shouted:
Abbas, my brother, what have they done to you?If Abbas could see, would he have recognized his master? With back bent and beard turned white and hoary, on hearing the parting cry of his beloved brother, Husain's plight was such that nobody could have recognized him - such was his transformation. Abbas was now feeling the loving touch of his master's hand. With effort he muttered: You have come at last, my Master. I thought I was not destined
to have a last farewell with you but, thank God, you are here.
With these words he put his head on the
sand. Tenderly Husain lifted his head and again put it on his lap,
inquiring why he had removed it from there.
Abbas was heard to whisper softly:
Abbas, I too have a wish to be fulfilled. Since childhood
you have always called me master. For once at least call
me brother with your dying breath.
The blood was cleared from the eye, one
brother looked at the other with a longing lingering look. Abbas was
heard to whisper:
References: Tears & Tributes By Zakir Shaheed Associates, India |
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