24.8.2012

He just sat there.

Blabbing.

His words did not inspire.

No pulse.

For him, drinking was a sin greater than causing discomfort to another human.

Hey Qari! Stop yelling on the mike! It’s disgraceful for our predecessors and God will not hear you better if you yell louder.

And verily HE alone is aware of what is in the hearts of men, not me.  

23.8.2012

I had my eyes closed and discerned baboons of the higher order jumping and laughing around me. They laughed at each other, at me, at themselves and at those who were not present.

And it troubled me.

I opened my eyes to find men wrapped in the skin of angels, seated about me.

I prayed and looked for a mirror.

The devil smiled back at me.   

Lets Gobble the Whole World

Have you seen the world?

I’m serious.

Have you seen the colors?

The trees? Clouds? Sun? Moon? Mountains? Stars? Birds?

Not all rays of light entering your eyes are reflected back. Some of them do, most of them are absorbed by the eye.

Do you realize you have not only been feasting on this world with your mouth and nose but also with your eyes?

Eating through your eyes the rays of light reflecting back from objects that either have a good or a bad taste for the eye? Leaving the brain to digest all of them.

Why Not?

Is it alright if I take pride in my creative thought? My existence? My superiority over other species?

Is it okay to stand up tall, with one’s head high and a stiff collar? Is it okay to step into the mosque in such a posture?

Why not?

Am I not proud of my faith? Can I not stand tall in front of Allah and claim in praise that: “Look God. You made me and here I am, in gratitude.”

I don’t yet know what exactly the term used to representing such a statement is, but I’m sure someone from among you will.

And I’m sure that there is such a state, a state that is the result of pride and gratitude experienced at the same time.

If not however, then I have severely wronged myself.     

Searching in vain

Steps towards the mike. 

Looks down at his toes. Blur. 

Looks up, switches the mike on.Closes his eyes. “Like Bilal at the time of Muhammad, for Allah”. 

Opens his eyes. Gulps. Inhales. And then it flows. 

Coarse and low. A voice that shakes at first, then learns to hold firm. Trained to deliver. 

The first four words are uttered without a stretch. Simple, straight-forward and steady. 

Two separate, two combined. (Allahu Akbar x 4).

Looks down again. More blur. Empties his lungs, inhales and announces the testimony. 

(Ashado Alla Ilaha Ilallah x2).

(Ashadoanna Muhammadar Rasul Allah x2).

Looks down, blinded now. 

Exhales, quivers. Inhales, smiles.

The next four words, uttered with urgency. The voice holds firm. Visions of desert sand, of Bilal being dragged down the street yelling “Ahad!” and that of a snow capped mountain, poke me to think: what part of the world did this call not reach?

The next two words. Direct as before. Fact. 

The last statement. It crushes. It melts. It is hot and cold at the same time.

It’s burden on the heart, unsurpassed. 

Looks down again.

Did I say everything correct? Were there any errors? 

Switches the mike off. Turns, smiling and grateful. 

Stares at the empty hall of the mosque, its maghrib, all are busy opening their fast. 

Whispers to himself. 

I’m alone.

Blinks his eyes. There they are.

All whom I’ve known. All of them, beaming at me. 

Not a taunt, nor a sneer. No judging.

Happiness from the purity of heart. Happiness for me. 

By those whom I consistently neglect.

A nod of head to everyone. A signal of gratitude to myself for, they are all in my head.

Whispers to himself. 

There is no one here. 

“Happiness only real when shared”, Chritopher McCandless. 

This is not vanity, nor pride. 

Not an act of self-praise or of arrogance.

But a declaration of one who stood alone.

With the memories of all of you,

You who are my very own.

Like fumes of caffeine enlighten the olfactory, 
call me o muazzan, to His mosque.

Have you ever stared at another person’s face? Be it someone you spot on the bus, at the bank or maybe a relative of yours. Have you ever thought of what’s behind that face? That face which, in your eyes; lacks symmetry, seems funny and maybe a little weird? Have you ever considered that there exists a constant stream of consciousness behind that face of funny expressions? Behind every face that lives to breathe? Ever thought of that maybe, just maybe, we humans are identical at, if I may say, the spiritual level?

Thought so. Your ignorance towards man blinds your perception of what man is. You see them as friends, strangers, family, relatives, commoners, presidents, soldiers, mullahs, clients, opportunity.. You think of them as anything but a mere human being, identical to your own inner face.

Man is proud. Control your pride, and step-up to dance with the divine.