Abbas The Standard Bearer of Husain [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

Abbas - The Standard Bearer of Husain

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:

I too am aware that, so long as our master and his children
remain without water, our thirst cannot be quenched.
With the water-bag filled he had jumped into the saddle with one
thought uppermost in his mind, to get the water to the anxiously waiting
children as quickly as possible. Seeing him galloping towards the camp of
Husain, the enemy had turned. Somebody had shouted from the enemy ranks
that if Husain and his people got water, it would be difficult to fight
them on the battlefield. Though it was an uneven fight, he fought them
with valour which was so characteristic of his fathers Though he was
thirsty and hungry, he charged on them and scattered them. The mercenaries
of Yazid were running like lambs in a fold when charged by a lion. Seeing
that a frontal assault on a man so brave was not possible, they had
resorted to a barrage of arrows. When arrows were coming form all sides,
Abbas had only one thought in his mind, how to protect the water-bag than
his life. Seeing that Abbas was preoccupied with this thought, one
treacherous foe, hiding behind a sand-dune, had rushed out and dealt a
blow on his right hand and cut it off. In a flash Abbas had transferred
his sword to his left hand and the standard he was bearing he had hugged
to his chest. Now that the Lion of Ali was crippled, the foes had found
courage to surround him. A blow from an enemy's sword severed his left
arm. The odds were now mounting against him. He held the bag with his
teeth and protected the flag with his chest pressed on the horse's back.
Now the paramount thought in his mind was to reach the camp somehow or the
other. A silent prayer had escaped his lips:

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:

O my master, do come to me before I die.
As it in answer to his prayers he felt some footsteps near him,
Yes, his instinct told him that it was his lord. His one eye had been
blinded by an arrow and the other filled with blood and so he could not
see. But he felt his master kneeling down beside him, lifting his head and
taking it into his lap. Not a word was said for a few seconds because both
were choked with emotion. At last he heard Husain's voice, a half-sob,
half-muffled cry:

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.

My Master, replied Abbas, the thought that when you will be
breathing your last, nobody will be there to put your head in
a lap and to comfort you, makes me feel that it would be
better if my head lies on the sand when I die, just as yours
would be. Besides, I am your slave and you are my master. It
is too much for me to put my head on your lap.
Husain burst into uncontrollable tears. The sight of his brother,
whose name was to become a byword for devotion and unflinching
faithfulness, laying down his dear life in his arms, was heart-rending.

Abbas was heard to whisper softly:

My master, I have some last wishes to express. When I was
born, I had my first look at your face and it is my last
desire that when I die, my gaze may be on it, too. My one
eye is pierced by an arrow and the other is filled with
blood. If you will clear the blood from my one eye, I'll
be able to see you and fulfill my last dying desire. My
second wish is that when I die you may not carry my body
to the camp. I had promised to bring water to Sakina and,
since I have failed in my attempt to bring her water, I
cannot face her even in death. Besides, I know that the
blows that you have received since morning have all but
crushed you and carrying my body to the camp will be heart
breaking work for you. And my third wish is that Sakina
may not be brought here to see my plight. I know with what
love and affection she was devoted to me. The sight of my
dead body lying here will kill her.
Husain sobbingly promised him that he would carry out his last
wishes added:

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:

My brother, my brother
and with these words he surrendered his soul to his Maker: Husain
fell unconscious on the dead body of Abbas with a cry:

O Abbas, who is left to protect me and Sakina after you?
The flow of Furat became dark as winter and a murmur arose from the
flowing water as if to protest against the killing of a thirsty
water-bearer on its banks.

Ref:
Tears & Tributes
By Zakir
Shaheed Associates, India
Converted to HTML format from original document written by Ali Abbas