Au Revoir.

I was too preoccupied with the defeat to Barcelona to actually really realize a couple of hard-to-swallow facts. Van Der Sar has played his last match for the Old Trafford faithfuls and that the defeat was potentially the last game for our Ginger Prince.

Now they have all been confirmed. Our biggest fears.

VDS and Scholes have both retired in the same week I have yet to fully recover from the lost to Barcelona. This season has been a mixture of roller coasters.

Three of our most important if not legends, have been taken away from us, forever. On the football pitch at least. Neville led the way. Now 2 of his buddies have followed suit.

We, we are left with nothing but memories of the good old days.

Au revoir our folk heroes. This has been a week of hard to takes.

Red. And Burning.

Another post not involving any flowery word processing procedures. This, directly from the temple where feelings reside in.

Now.

There's no shame in this defeat. United threw everything. Everything they fucken got. Forcing strings of excellent saves from Valdez. Well, with the 30% something posession of the ball. United played their hearts out and that's why it is even more gut wrenching than usual. It is to admit that Barcelona was simply the best team. By far and wide.

I guess this is the feeling of seeing your Loved Ones being handled, I dunno.

Fuck it.

We Are Manchester United. We Do What We Want.

Still Mourning.

I am aggrieved. It took a while to sink in. And when it does, I know I wasn't supposed to. But I couldn't halt it. My words fumbled in between sobs.

"Mak, Osama dah mati.."

Never met the man. Neither too privileged to. But shreds my heart to bits to hear the joyous celebrations in his demise. Even from the young Muslims side of the divide. Even from the supposedly learned. Their remarks.

I dunno much, how could I for this is His, The Almighty's business. But what I DO know is people like him. These selfless individuals who in their days fought like an unleashed lion and in the nights prayed for Syahid, these people, you wouldn't catch them adorning TIME's front page or being voted Persons of the Year et el.

They lived, at times having people wondering just what the hell is so wrong with him ? Why is he so poor ? They answered the calls of their Khaliq. They lived poor. Died impoverished. But in death they have, in finality so long after looking for it - The Martyrdom that so they crave ever since setting off from the wars they will never return from, so long as the Taghut, enemies of Allah roams free in the Muslims' lands. The land of our Prophet.

I know this from first hand, second, if you may. A cousin of my mom who fought against Nasara agressors. Came back and returned for more. And finally he returned home a blind man. Only this time the disability stopped him from returning. His life, materially, was nothing to be spoken of. He was poor. He was blind & on the run. His death, a beaut - in the arms of his Mother. And the numbers that show up for his final prayer, simply amazing for a man who was rarely home.

"We ask Allah for vistory, and we ask Allah to grant us Shahada', running TOWARDS Him, not AWAY from Him.." - Sheikh Osama Bin Laden

The Day Osama Died.

Dead. Forgotten. Scorned.

Sad. Aggrieved.

The whole world is clapping at your paraded body.
Are you smiling ?
Looking down to us.
To the very least you have done your covenance.
Valiant.

Were you begulf with joy at the thought of meeting your Creator ?

I dunno about them.

But at the abyss of melancholy is where I -
Inside looking out.

Jazakallah.

Ya Mujaheedin. Ya Syuhada'.

"Think not of those who are slain in Allah's way as dead. Nay, they live, finding their sustenance in the presence of their Lord" (3:169)