The Prophet And I Poem by mazHur Butt

The Prophet And I



The Prophet and I
By Mazhar Butt

Joseph's was a different story
Mine is something else;
He had a compassionate father, Jacob,
Who wept and wept and lost his sight
At the news of his missing son;
Had I been so lucky and important
This story wouldn't been aired!
Nor would I try to compare
The story and its characters.
Joseph was a lucky guy, lucky was he;
Jacob was lucky too
Joseph had many jealous brothers
I too have many grudgingly malicious siblings
But, here is the difference!
Joseph's siblings were his step brothers
Mine are real!
Joseph's brothers ganged up against him
Mine also did the same
Out of jealousy, jealousy, jealousy!
They dumped Joseph into a blind well
No fun, my brothers also did the same!
Joseph's brother returned with his blood stained clothes
With the bad news to their father, Jacob,
That Joseph had been devoured by wolves!
Jacob got mad at the news
Aggrieved and hurt as if his heart had been ripped off
He commanded his jealous sons to go and find
Joseph and bring him back;
Incredible, said Jacob, the sanguine smell of Joseph's shirt
Tells me he's alive and in trouble'
Go, go, you careless lot and get him back safely!
The story, as it goes, sounds differently in my case
So different that had Jacob and Joseph been alive
They would have unlisted their story from the pages of history!
Similarly, my siblings brought the bad news to our father
As well as mother, if I may regretfully add her off issue;
Unlike Jacob, my respected father smiled at the news
and my dear mother too!
Ah, what a pity! What a shame! Sorry to say;
Joseph's parents weren't like that!
This is why I called both Jacob and Joseph lucky
May God Almighty raise their departed souls
To the highest levels of eternal bliss in heaven!
Perchance a caravan happened to pass by
To look for water in the blind well
Water was not there nor could it be in a blind well
But instead they sighted Joseph there
And got him out and took him along with them;
They auctioned Joseph in the Bazaar of Kinaan
As an unfortunate slave
Until bought by the Amir to serve in his palace;
Till this point Joseph's and my story sounds almost similar
But not the same as we don't have Amirs
And no slaves are auctioned in present times;
Instead, I was left to the dogs
To be maimed, crippled and get finally killed;
But I was saved by the mercy of my God
Saved and surviving
Alive and kicking!
Unlike Joseph's father
None missed me nor my father shed a single tear
For the unbefitting treatment his favorite sons meted out to me;
Never mind. I never expected him to weep
And get blinded at my separation and fate;
Joseph was ultimately riden of his calamities
He had to, because he was most handsome
And a prophet as well
An apple of Zulekha's eyes!
Joseph could interpret dreams
Whereas I only dreamt
By stroke of fate an his especial position with Lord
He regained his lost stature and became
The King of an Empire
And forgave his inimical brothers
for their evil deeds
Out of brotherly affection for them
Or, perhaps, as a show of respect to his loving father
'All ended well with Joseph
All ended well for Jacob
But not for me!
Not for me because I am not an interpretor
Of dreams nor a prophet of God
Nor a son of a loving father or mother;
A star-crossed father-son relation,
A lucky survivor yet not so lucky
As a prophet like Joseph was;
My travails continue endlessly
I have no Zulekha to love me;
I remain to be a dreamer;
For it was this I was ordained to do;
Yet it is clear from the story
The fate of prophets
Is better than ordinary men;
They finally win emancipation;
People like me don't!
All praise be to the Almighty God!
Amen!
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