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Our School There is a school which we attend, that is meant for students of any age, The youth, the

elders, men, women and children, you will see them all, at every stage. Clad in black, with eyes of sorrow, marching to class, in the day and the night, In this school we leave all else behind, the worldly has no place in our focused sight. We gather to learn history and its lessons, with attention we sit--it is a sight to be seen, For you see, our school, serves to train our nafs, our classes are for the preservation of deen. From Adam to Muhammad the lesson was one, Tawheed is that subject, on which we will be tested, Alhamdolillah, we are thankful that we, are among those who follow the truth manifested. For this truth, our second subject in school, is to understand the Justice of the Divine, Adalah is that Justice of Allah the All Mighty; this quality is perhaps the grandest sign. As the Just Creator, the One to be worshipped, would no doubt create a system to send, The knowledge of His Being, to reach the Earth's people, for to all in creation, His reach does extend. The prophethood, Nubuwwah, is this Divine plan, this method of placing a proof of Allah on Earth, Each prophet or messenger is brought to the people; he serves as a teacher, a kind soul of great worth. The final, perfect message, was given to that prophet, who is the best of creation, from the first to the last, Then revelation had ended, but a guardian was needed, and to Amir-ul-Momineen, the Divine key was passed. Ten Holy sons of the nafs of Muhammad, each came as a protector and leader of Islam, And the last, the eleventh son, that final shining Light, is the twelfth Divine and Holy Imam. His reign still exists, he is our true teacher--though at this time we suffice with substitutes in our school, Each teaches his message, the deen of his grandfather, until he emerges and establishes his rule. What are the other lessons, you ask, those that we study day in and day out? Quran and the branches of religion--furooh ad-deen, are surely among our studied courses, no doubt. You might think that our school has long periods of break, is Muharram the only time when we learn? No--that is false, because the most sincere students, even in their homes, much credit they earn. And this is the beauty of our institute of learning, it is never confined to a time or a place, A masjid, any center, your home or the park: all these are venues to discuss the Divine Grace. In class we constantly say Shukranlillah, for indeed He has blessed us with the most perfect gift, The love of His Chosen Ones, is that ink in our pens, for without it, our goods works would fade ever so swift. You might ask how our status is ranked or is judged; what exams do we have in this school of ours? I would say every day is a test for the momin: do we cling to our deen, or follow corrupt powers? There are surely those days when all students come together: Ashura, Arbaeen, Laylatul Qadr and more, These are small tests to gauge our sincerity, to the City of Knowledge, and its only Door. Our final exam, the most important of all, will take place at a time that is distant and far, The Last Day is when, each student will be tried, no matter his school or who his teachers are. On that Day all your points, each credit will count, what will be the sum of your every good deed? The grades given will vary; you may pass or may fail, or be given punishment, for any misdeed. But can I state one truth of that final test, it is with care and caution that I am obliged to say, That the chance exists to earn the highest of grades, even if you have had missteps in your way.

There is One in creation whose rank is such, that she is the nexus, the core, of the Holiest Ones, Your deen is her father's, your Maula--her husband, and you have learned the traditions through her pious sons. She is the one who is gifted with the power, to mark a student with the most special seal, Her mohib and her Shi'a will be lighted on that Day, granted a rank that none can conceal. This one is no other but the daughter of the Prophet, her Noor is of the Noor of Allah, Her name is that, which calms the hearts of the pious, it suffices to say, that she is Fatima. The Prophet of Islam, the last of the chain, how did her refer to his only daughter? Innama Fatima shakhatun minni, his words are as clear as the most pure of water. Verily Fatima is the only branch from me; this is why their emotions are forever connected, The branch of Fatima is the life blood of the tree, but to where is this noble branch directed? Open the Holy Book and you will find, an example, that parable of a good word, Kalimatan tayyiba, ka shajaratin tayyibah (14:24), the good word is like a good tree, as heard. Asluha thaabitun wa faruha fis-samaa; its root is fixed firmly with its branches in the sky, Tu-ti akulaha kulla heenim bi idhni rabbiha (14:25), and it bears fruit all the time, by permission of the Most High. Remember that the Prophet, is the complete being, created as Perfect by Al-Jawad Al-Kareem, And every knowledge, every creation--does flow to this Earth, from his essence, like a stream. Thus the fruits of the tree, are born through the branch, every blessing, and knowledge does flow from that One, Zahra is such that she connects her father, to her husband, and indeed, to all of her sons. Fatima is the branch, the one who bears fruit, but this fact should not leave you amazed nor surprised, For she is Al-Kawthar, the Abundance without end; and indeed about her, Allah has advised: Wa maa ataakum ur-rasoolu, fa khudhuhu (59:7): and that which the Prophet had brought, do take, Is there anything or anyone else whom the Prophet, had brought, that the Muslims should never forsake? Here is where we find the essence of our school, which is tied to the ranks given on the Last Day, The love, the following and attachment to Fatima, is imprinted in our hearts, and we will never betray That which Allah and the Prophet had taught; the emotions of Fatima affect both the world and the Throne, Fatimas happiness, does gladden her father, and with the anger of Fatima, the heavens do moan. The anger of the Holiest Lady is such, that is causes the anger of Allah, the Most Kind, Allah is the Merciful, the Forgiving and more, yet there is a lesson to keep in ones mind. Close your eyes, but expand your thoughts, to remember the tragedies of that darkest of days, The door that was burning, the hits from the sword, the slaps and the nail, and even more ways In which that Light, the Rose from the Heavens, was hurt and did wither, can you bear the pain? You cannot--for if you understood the truth, you eyes would flow tears more than Prophet Nuhs rain. A hand was broken, those ribs were crushed, and the child---Ya Mohsin, you are the youngest shaheed, For what crime were you killed? How madhloom are you, and your mother, on that day, how much did she bleed? A few months then passed, and a day had come, when the two young Lights, did come to Ameer, They rushed to the masjid, to inform their father, that Zahra had passed; the sight was severe. Here are the words that break the hearts and the backs, of every pious one from the first to the last, Who is Ali, Ameer ul-Momineen? What power does he hold, and what is his caste? Ali is he who conquered Khaybar, who slayed the hypocrites and is the Lion of Allah,

A warrior, the finest of Bani Hashim he is; he is the noble brother, and nafs of Rasoolullah. The Holy body of Ali contained many wounds, in how many battles did he fight through and win? Yet he never complained, and even prayed his salat, while an arrow was still pierced through his skin. This Lion, the strongest and most pious man, the one filled with sabr, looked at Hasan and Husayn, And he fell upon the ground, his patience had left; all we can say is that he felt such pain That when the time came to bury his Love, the Light of his life and the mother of his heirs, He cried out in deep anguish: I wish I were not, alive to see this state of affairs. My Prophet, my Ameer, and their sons were oppressed, each did face the enemies of Truth, But ya Fatima, none of your family was such, that they left this world as the most oppressed youth You were prevented from crying out loud, your rights were denied, and your grief was such, That if fallen on days, they would turn into nights; these words themselves do pain me so much But the door that was burned, or the rights that were taken, these are only the first modes of oppression, Ya Zahra, in the past and even in the present, there are those who claim that you faced no aggression. The blessed Holy Light, from the tree of Tuba, and the Subhaan of Allah, indeed you did come, But you left in the darkness, in the quiet of night, this world was so harsh, that you prayed to leave from This earth where those who oppressed you did live, this earth that distanced you from your Holy father, And what prayer did you make, Ya Zahra, I know---I have not forgotten, about those who did bother. Allahuma innahuma dhalama ibnata Muhammadin nabiyyika haqqaha, fashdud wataataka alayhima, was your prayer, Ya Allah they have oppressed the right of Muhammads daughter, so increase your anger on them, you did swear. And yet there are those who deny these events, who say you were pleased with the two evil men, This is the greatest tragedy of all, and I believe it is why, I have been given a pen To expand on the truth of what those try to hide: indeed Fatima was killed by Saqifas plotting crew, The son of Al-Khattab and Qunfudh, his slave, were among the fire-wielding and treacherous few. Believers, young and old, this is the messageif you are a true disciple of the school, You will never hide, the oppressors and their actions, for you know that these deeds would ignite such a fuel, That Zahra would consider you an oppressor, and you would be distanced from the Mercy of Allah, Do you see now, how very essential it is, to be firm in declaring the enemies of Fatima? Her day of shahadah, that day of darkness, to us, even its proper date is not known, While her grave is hidden from our eyes till that day, when her son will emerge for it to be shown. What are your duties, to this Holiest Light? In this time what justice can you do to her name? Remember her life, her struggles and all; and do not be afraid to declare or proclaim That you are with her, her father, husband and children; you seek her knowledge to refine your soul, For you are a student of the best of schools, and to gain its diploma is your ultimate goal. That paper, that approval, that highest mark, can only be achieved if you remember this day, The day of her martyrdom, is a call to the hearts, of each one who claims to follow the Straight Way. Her majlis should be of the most intense zeal, for indeed her sons tragedies began with her trauma, Show your love to the Lights, so that Allah may be, pleased with your deeds on Yaum ul-Qiyamah. Ya Saadaat, O every son and daughter of Zahra, upon us there is a duty that we must understand, Turn back history to the fateful day when, the wasiyyah of Zahra was in Imam Alis hand.

You know of that will, and of Sayyidas wish, to be buried in the night, with those certain conditions, But the end of that letter, did tell of one task, for Maula to engage in, a continued transmission. Waqra-a ala wuldi as-salaam ila yaum il-akheer, were the ending words in that Holy note, And send upon my children, salaam until the Last Day; we can say this is Sayyidas final quote. The message in this short sentence is clear; Imam Ali is asked to send the salaam, Of Fatima upon all her children in this world; Ya Saadaat, this statement you must keep in your palm. For you know that salaam, this greeting is such, that its reply is wajib on whom it is sent, This means that the ziyarah or salaam to Zahra, is wajib on the Sayyid, of the past or the present. The weight of this statement cannot be explained, and can you feel the pain that is still upon us? Our Holiest Mother, her grave is unknown, and the date of her death, the masses still discuss. The most central lesson, for that heart filled with Love, is to recognize that to Zahra, there is so much we owe, Khums is her right, upon every believer, but the reply to her salaam is what we must bestow Day or night upon her most Holy soul, while remembering that she loves each daughter and son, So much that she sent her salaam upon them, from the earliest time, and until this world is done. When I think of the students in our humble school, I remember the noble Umme Ayman, When Zahra had passed, Madina--she left, to be in the wild, with the wind and the sun. Her thirst was heavy, and no water was near, so what did this great student then do? Ya Rab ana khadimatu Fatima, she said; my Lord, I am a servant of Fatima, so true. What came from the heavens, or from that unknown space, was a gift, that drink which did quench her thirst, To the extent that her body did not need, food or drink; for years, she was so Divinely immersed For what reason, why was this servant so blessed? To me, this truth could not be more clear, To fully submit oneself to Allah, is to know and to keep, the love of Fatima near. And this truth will lead you back to our class, our school which we attend each day after next, Any good student, who strives to excel, does protect and take care of his books, every text. What is the cover of every book of ours? What is that protection, that keeps our work secure? The love and the instinct to know Fatima, is that binding and cover, of every text, for sure. This is not a secret--the world must know, that our classes, our texts, are in their essence, Shia, And for this reason the greatest name of our school, is this title: we are, The School of Fatimiyyah. Our school is built upon tears and that blood, the blood of the shuhada, from the earliest days, Truth is our paper, tawalla is our ink, while tabarra is the very pen that we raise, To sign and declare that we adhere to all Truth, every session and lesson we have taken and learned, We hope on the Last Day, to be among those, who say The diploma of Zahra we have earned! To be a light, to be of the Shia, on that Day, each sincere one prays for this fate, Ya Allah, include us among the lovers of Fatima, for this is the only way for one to graduate. -Fatima Ali Jamadul Aakhir, 1433