 On a night like this, two brothers embrace, separated by two worlds for so long, the living and the unknown. The soul of Hussein flew up to heaven, and Hassan welcomed him with arms of stretch. With a joyful sigh but teary eyes, Al-Hassan says, Oh my brother, what calamities you have faced, for when I was killed I was offered food and drink, yet nobody quenched your thirst in Karbala. Even though I was in pain, at least I had you and my family besides me. Who was there to hold your head when you fell? And although the poison ripped through my organs, at least my body was not trampled by horses and torn to pieces. At least when I died, I was buried close to our grandfather and knew my family was safe. Yet all you could think of, as shimmer set on your chest, was what would happen to Zaynab and Ruqaiyya after you. Hussein gripped his brother tighter, and his tears overflowed. Oh brother, how can I complain of my difficulties to you? You say you are buried close to our grandfather, yet you do not know that when the arrows of our enemies hit your jenazah, it was sharper than any sword that was used against me. Oh brother Hassan, don't you see what Karbala has become today? A golden sanctuary for all our Shi'as. They can come to me and feel safe and at ease. I see them and hear them give their salams to me. Tell me, oh brother, can you hear our Shi'as from the graveyard of Baqia? Who can visit you but the faithful doves that sit upon your grave while all around the Shi'as are pushed and shoved away from me? Oh brother, you weep for me, yet all I can do is weep for you.