Chapter Nine

The Refuge of the Household

Abbas ibn Ali ibn Abi Talib (p)

Abbas ibn Ali ibn Abi Talib (p) was a man of remarkable beauty, noble stature, and commanding presence.

Whenever he mounted a powerful horse, his feet would still reach the ground.

For this reason, he became known as the Moon of Banu Hashim.

The Standard-Bearer and the Call for Help

Who can truly know?

Perhaps it was there—

the very place where, only moments before, the cry of:

“Hal min nāṣirin yanṣurunī?”

“Is there anyone who will come to my aid?”

had flowed from the blessed lips of my grandfather, Hussein (p),

yet found no earthly responder.

It was there where glances spoke in place of words.

Those devoted lovers had learned the language of silence from their Master and Lord.

Perhaps the Covenant of the Primordial World was renewed,

and the echoes of:

“Qālū balā” — “Yes, indeed!”

settled once again upon the hearts.

Who can know what visions passed beyond the gaze of the Standard-Bearer?

His eyes seemed to linger over the closed eyelids of the children,

as though to leave upon their faces the gentlest and most beautiful caress.

The Refuge of the Household

At times, his gaze would turn toward my aunt,

becoming the refuge of her restless heart.

As always, a quiet longing rested at the end of his gaze—

a longing for the embrace that made him the keeper of all his sister’s sorrows and concerns...

The final moments always bear a beauty unlike any other,

just as first moments do.

Who can truly know?

Perhaps it was there—

in that very place where no one witnessed it—

that the Refuge of the Sacred Household returned once more to the embrace of his father.

To Haydar al-Karrār,

the one who had always cherished and held his son’s hands,

so that he might cast one final loving glance upon the strong and steadfast hands of his Abbas,

and, with a heart overcome by sorrow,

contemplate the sublime love between the Master and his Standard-Bearer.

Imam Ali (p) and the Sword of Abbas (p)

One day, Imam Ali (p) was seated in the mosque, speaking with the people, when a Bedouin man entered.

After offering his greetings, he placed a chest he had brought with him upon the ground and said to the Imam:

“O my Master! I have brought you a gift.”

He then opened the chest and drew forth a finely forged, one-of-a-kind sword, presenting it to the Imam.

At that very moment, Abbas (p), then a noble young man in the prime of his youth, entered the mosque.

After greeting those present, he respectfully took a seat in a corner.

His eyes became fixed upon the gleaming blade of the sword.

“My Son, Would You Like This Sword?”

Imam Ali (p) noticed the admiration and wonder in Abbas’s (p) eyes and asked him:

“My son, would you like this sword to be yours?”

Abbas (p) replied:

“Yes, Father.”

Imam Ali (p) rose and, with his own blessed hands, fastened the sword upon the strong frame of his son.

He then gazed at how perfectly the sword suited the noble, broad-shouldered, and majestic stature of Abbas (p).

Tears began to flow down his blessed beard.

Those present asked:

“O Amir al-Mu'minin (p), why do you weep?”

The Imam replied:

“I can already see the day when he will wield this sword, striking such fear into the hearts of the enemy that they will scarcely be able to breathe.

He will charge upon them with unmatched courage...

and in the end, he will attain martyrdom.”

The Reflection of Haydar al-Karrār (p)

قَدْ ضَاقَ صَدْرِي

Who can truly know?

Perhaps it was to soothe the longing within his heart that spear met spear,

and sword struck sword.

It was as though the moon itself revolved in the orbit of Karbala,

adorning the battlefield with every blow he delivered.

He rode his steed just as his father had done,

becoming the very reflection of Haydar al-Karrār (p).

When he was making his way toward the mosque...

the feathers of the ducks gently brushed against the fringe of his cloak...

With every step, he drew nearer to the miḥrāb.

And Abbas (p) drew nearer to the waters of the Alqamah.

The father cast his gaze upon the sacred earth,

his forehead planting one final kiss upon the place of prostration.

And for one last time,

the water reflected the image of Abbas (p).

At the Waters of the Alqamah

The cool, life-giving water overflowed into his blessed hands.

Who can truly know?

Perhaps within its reflection, he saw the image of his father.

There, he placed a kiss upon his father’s blood-stained brow,

performed his ablution and offered the prayer of martyrdom.

He remembered the day he had sat beside his father,

resting his head upon his chest,

listening with all his soul to the final beats of his heart as he said:

“My son!

Soon, on the Day of Resurrection, my eyes shall be delighted through you.”

The Final Advice of Imam Ali (p)

وَلَدِي إِذَا كَانَ يَوْمُ عَاشُورَاءَ وَدَخَلْتَ الْمَشْرَعَةَ،

إِيَّاكَ أَنْ تَشْرَبَ الْمَاءَ وَأَخُوكَ الْحُسَيْنُ عَطْشَانًا...

“My son!

When the Day of Ashura arrives,

and you reach the water,

beware of drinking while your brother, Hussein (p), remains thirsty.”

The Return to His Father

A short while later,

all that remained was his blessed body—

and the two hands that Haydar al-Karrār (p) had bequeathed to his beloved Abbas.

From that majestic and towering form,

only a shadow remained,

while all that truly was Abbas took flight,

returning to his father,

to end the longing of separation.