Widad Jassim
Jassim Taqui
My daughter Widad Jassim is the only eve among four children. Though I was keen to teach all my children myself, I focused on Widad Jassim. Widad is an Arabic word that means “love”. Indeed, Widad Jassim is my love. I, therefore encouraged her to write poems. I myself used to write poem since I was 13 years old. Widad, however started writing when she was 8 or 9 years old. I have a rare poem she wrote to me before I left on official visit to Kuwait in 1980s:
“ Dear Daddy,
The roses are red, violets are blue. Life is so brilliant, with people like you. You are not taking us. For that I am sad. And thus you are going away, that doesn’t make me sad….Love and a loving lasting kiss.” She did make me cry.
Subsequently, Widad poems grew in maturity but continued to be very emotional. At one time, when I was sick, she surprised me with her 10 roses. Here, I reproduce the same without slight change:
Widad Jassim
MY INSPIRATION comes from one
Whose name I proudly bear,
Who cushioned me whenever I fell,
And met my successes with cheer.
Who gave me life again and again,
Who nurtured me with care.
Who rejoiced in my happiness,
And wiped away my tear.
Deep roots of prophet hood has he,
His disciple I grew,
He fed me faith, he lit my life
With knowledge old and new.
His value inestimable
For all whose lives he touches,
He freely gives to all who seek
His ever-increasing riches.
For as he lives, he fathoms more,
He reads a deeper truth,
He profits from his mysticism,
And shares it with his youth.
As transparent as is the air,
He's one you can see through;
He towers tall with fortitude_
From him all strength I drew
Will I be blessed enough to make
My father proud, who knows?
For now, I can only present him
With this eleventh rose.”
I answered with this poem:
Your eleventh rose
O my Love, your Bond made me cry,
Can’t stop my tears , no matter how I try,
They flow to drown me with delight,
Love you always, you’re His bright light,
Could feel you always witty and fair,
Could see you, smiling while in despair,
Your eleventh rose is so powerful skill,
Knowing fully well, she came from your will,
It unlocked my mind, making me lively, serene,
Like traveling in time with fictional time machine,
No regret , no sorrow prevail, everything right,
Now I can see colorful world even in the night,
Clouds of past make escape, sun shines white,
So pure my world becomes in every corner, sight,
Dreaming in the world of fantasy, grace,
My bitter past has gone, no slightest trace,
For wherever I go, I could see none but your face,
Your roses, angels, all around, in every place.
Then, I wrote her another one:
10 roses for Widad
Oh, my Love, to the Book of the Books, I sought,
Asking the Divine Writ to reveal a single thought,
Tell Love, I was told, she seeks the unseen world,
She and loved ones are blessed, your ground hold,
She knows not, nobody does, patient she should be,
Tell your Love : the Almighty is Great, with thee,
Let her fear not anything on earth, be very tall,
He does bless and protect her, her angels and All,
Those who love her, who touch her blessed hand,
She's special, symbol of love, a totally new brand,
She's the shade of all colors, especially My white,
The symbol of peace, shining light so very bright,
to every direction, every prospect to every sight,
to inner self, her roses are limitless, full delight,
Will always answer her wishes and beyond I may,
change destiny, the world, replace night with day,
I, the Merciful, am always with Love in My own way,
None but Me will govern, order, and spread My say,
Will tell the whole world, she is so loving so sweet,
She is My Mystic Sign, I bless, with honor I treat.”
There was a series of correspondence through email when my daughter married. Unfortunately, I lost most of it, but I found one in my email:
Widad Jassim…..is it that?
Widad, love of God, bright, innovative, new chapter,
Full of life, self-reflection, full of delight, laughter,
Since your birth, you’ve been a piece of solace, joy, art,
You remain forever till the fixed date takes me apart,
Since the first sign of maturity as daughter when we first met,
When you climbed over me, kissing me, since the first dew wet,
Since you wrote me the first poem, full of love, theme, rose,
Since you drew that envelope, like your angel, with heart enclose,
Wondered as why so far none sent me such scented letter yet?
Why I have to wait so long to have my destined message, get?
Why would I wait long time, so as to say much more to her?
Why should I wait for my full life, to hear, my rebel dear?
Why I fail, collapse fast? Is it that she has to show me right?
Is it that she brings me alive? Is it that to fill me in delight?
Is it that she brings aroma to my night? Is it that to stop me fight?
Is it that to soothe my cuts? Or is it that to show my future bright?
June 19,2012.
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