Shi’ah, whenever you drink sweet water, remember me.
Or whenever you hear of a stranger or a martyr, mourn for me.
I am the grandson, who was killed without any crime.
And after the killing, they deliberately trampled me under the hooves of horses.
I wish you were all there on the day of Ashura to see how I asked for water for my child, yet they refused to have mercy on me.
Excerpt from the Ziyarat al-Nahiyah (a visitation to Imam al-Mahdi, peace be upon him, addressed to Imam Hussein, peace be upon him):
“You are the son of the Prophet (may God’s peace and blessings be upon him and his family), and the proof for the Qur’an, and a strong arm for the Islamic community. You were always diligent in obedience to God, a guardian of His covenant, staying far from the ways of the wicked. You were the one who gave to the poor in hardship, long in bowing and prostration.
Until oppression and injustice extended their hand of aggression, and the rebellious revealed their true face, calling their followers to misguidance, even though you had settled in the sanctuary of your grandfather, far from the oppressors. You had remained dedicated to the home and the prayer niche, staying away from worldly pleasures, and, to the best of your ability, you denounced what was wrong, both in your heart and with your tongue.
Then, as your knowledge demanded, it became necessary to confront them openly. So, you rose to stand face to face with the wrongdoers. You became a clear truth, calling people to God with wisdom and good advice. You established God’s laws and commanded obedience to the Almighty. You prohibited sins and rebellion, but they met you with oppression and enmity.
Therefore, you waged a holy battle against them after warning them and making your case clear. They broke their promises to you and went against God and your grandfather’s will. They began their struggle against you. You stood firm against their verbal attacks and their blows. You confronted them like a lion, engaged in battle with such valor that it seemed as though you were Ali ibn Abi Talib himself.
When they saw your firm heart and unshakable resolve, they raised their malicious schemes against you and fought with deceit and wickedness. The cursed one ordered his soldiers to deny you water and led them to the battlefield, raining arrows and stones on you. They attacked you with the intention of forcing you to surrender, showing no respect for you and committing every sin against you, whether killing your friends or looting your camp’s belongings. Yet, you charged ahead through the dust of battle, enduring countless hardships as the angels above marveled at your patience.
Then, enemies surrounded you from all sides. They wore you down with their wounds and injuries, preventing you from continuing your work until nightfall, while no one was left to help you. You stood steadfast, defending and protecting your women and children until they knocked you off your horse. You fell to the ground, wounded, while the horses trampled over you, and the tyrants climbed over you with their sharp swords.
Your forehead became moist with the sweat of death, twisting and turning with each movement. You glanced toward your camp and your family, yet you remained focused on yourself. Your horse, frightened, raced back toward the tents, neighing and crying. When the women of the camp saw the horse of their master returning in such a state, and the saddle overturned, they rushed out from behind the tents, their hair disheveled, their faces covered in tears, mourning loudly as they descended from their state of dignity to the depths of humiliation, rushing toward the place of your martyrdom.”