The Holy Battle of Banî Mustaliq

In the fifth year of the Hegira, Haris bin Abî Dirâr, the leader of the sons of Mustaliq, had gathered many men to fight against our Master, the Prophet. He would have armed them and marched towards Medina. When this news reached our beloved Prophet, a military expedition, against the sons of Mustaliq, with seven hundred troops began immediately. The military headquarters was established at the well of Muraysî. Firstly, the sons of Mustaliq were invited to Islam. They did not accept that and started the war by shooting arrows. The Ashâb-i kirâm performed the order of our Master Rasûlullah, “Attack them all together suddenly,” and killed ten persons from the sons of Mustaliq. The chief of the tribe had escaped and rescued his life but his daughter Barra and six hundred people from his tribe had been held captives. The booty was distributed. Barra, entering the presence of our Master, the Prophet, said, “I have agreed with my master, to whom I was allotted, to gain my freedom against nine gold coins. Do help me!” Pitying her, our Master, the Prophet bought and emancipated her. Due to the communication of Islam by our beloved Prophet, she became Muslim. Being very glad that she became Muslim, our Master, the Prophet honored her with marrying her. Upon seeing this, all the Ashâb-ı kirâm said, “We would be ashamed to use the relatives of Rasûlullah’s wife, our mother, as servants.” They emancipated their captives. This marriage caused hundreds of captives to be emancipated. Our beloved Prophet changed his blessed wife’s name from Barra to Juwayriyya. About our mother Hadrat Juwayriyya, our mother Hadrat Âisha used to say, “I haven’t seen a woman more auspicious than Juwayriyya.” As the Islamic army started returning to the luminous Medina, the surrounding polytheist tribes had been intimidated and they had understood how dangerous it would be to dare to attack Muslims.

A stitch by MAWLÂNÂ KHÂLİD-İ BAGHDÂDÎ

You are the physician to the worlds, I am so ill, I have brought my heart to you, hoping I will get well.
A mountain of sin is on my back, from horror, white is my face, But, I am full of hope, I have brought my sins here to terminate.
O head of the knowing! You, I do admire; I weep day and night due to being far.
Your great compassion is elixir, and I am thirsty; If I do not get even one drop of it, I pass away.
Trying to praise him, the mind is in difficulty, May Allah protect it, limited is its capacity.
It is a vain effort to praise him according to his temper. Trying to describe him with words is much harder.
He is so forgiving and generous, pearl comes from water, Metal from stone, Rose from thorn.
If the sun illuminates, it is of his light, The water drop on a rose, comes from his rose like face.

Depicting him is higher than this, however, If I say it openly, the negligent will be denier.
It is possible to stuff all the world into a mote, It is harder to describe him for me.

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