Abbas (A.S)-The Standard Bearer of Hussein A.S
part 3
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 Hussein'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, Hussein'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 Hussein 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.
Other Links:
Sheikh Mufid and Imam Sajjad: part 3
Who is Mukhtar Thaqafi: part 1
Martyrdom of Ammar Ibn Yasir: part 3
Who is Mukhtar Thaqafi: part 2
Black face, Pure Nature
