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The Slaughter of a Baby Most Revered Ali Asghar (‘a) (“Banu ke sheerquar ko haftum se pyaas hai“) Banu’s son has had no water for days His pulse is weak and his mother prays No hope in sight of getting water or milk Helpless, she lingers by his cradle in a daze “Pray tell me, what shall I do now Ya Husain? The baby’s eyes now roll back in pain“ “Oh Ya Ali, Ya Ali where can I go? I cannot watch my baby suffer so How do I find a way to make him lives Ya Ali he needs water, that I cannot give“ “ Last night I saw him open his eyes But today he lays still, doesn’t move, doesn’t cry“ Then everyone said, “Lets call the Imam For God’s sake somebody, go get the Imam The baby is dying, go tell the Imam His face is blue, his body calm“ “Taking Alder’s body to lay it to rest The Imam is on his way, with grief beset“ His face stained with the blood of His 18 year old The Imam entered, His head bowed And everyone led Him to the baby’s crib And showed Him the baby’s still fingers and toes “He barely breathes Oh Noble Prince“ they cried “Sometimes you would think he had already died“ At the head of the crib, the Prince knelt down in the baby’s ear He whispered, head bowed Hearing the Prince’s voice, the baby smiled Toward Husain he extended his arms and glowed “It’s a miracle my father,“ Sakina cried “Oh mother, my brother has opened his eyes“ The baby in His arms, the Prince left the camp And Death followed, eyeing them askance To shelter her baby from the midday sun The mother draped a sheet over the Imam’s arms Holding Asghar close, Husain walked, head bowed in the arms of the heavens, a snow white cloud As He neared the lowly enemy, Husain paused Couldn’t ask for water, couldn’t utter the words with embarrassment He paled and His body tensed So He removed the sheet from the baby’s face Head bowed, he said, “I’ve brought my son to you Seeking water Asghar now has come to you“ Then He kissed His baby’s parched lips and looked And whispered “My son I’ve said what I could There is nothing else to say now Oh my son maybe you can show them your dry, parched tongue“ And the baby obeyed, licked his lips dry And Husain shuddered and looked up to the skies And as Husain looked to the heavens so The cursed Hurmula strung an arrow in his bow And aimed the arrow at Asghar’s throat Pulling taut the bow, let the arrow go As the tiny neck the arrow gashed Asghar lurched and clung to his dad A six month baby and an arrows force Blood poured from the tiny, thirsty throat Once more he lurched and then went still His cap fell to the ground and he breathed his last The tiny fists curled over his chest, body numb A minute ago he was sucking his thumbs And the desolate Father, watched His son saw the devastation the enemy’s arrow had done And watched the baby in the throes of death The tiny hands groping at the injured neck The lifeless eyes rolling back in the head Blood gushing forth from the battered neck Gently pulling out the arrow from the neck Husain lifted His son toward the heaven and said “My God please accept my last sacrifice For your cause, in your path, my son is now dead“ “Little in age but magnanimous in deeds Thus are the children of Allah’s creed“
