The common people expects the pious man to be sin free
We just finished the Iftar and went to the cafeteria and meet some friends. there was a guy i met before and we chatted about Melbourne. We start talking about clubs but i have never been in a clubs so i tried to fit in by listening.
The conversation starts to go into Ramadan because i bought a lot of snacks and desserts and said “i should not be doing this because i just broke fast” then he talked about Christianity where there is a similar practice of abstaining from something. So he said his family abstain from electricity for one month and also furniture too. So it got interesting because I have heard of Christians abstaining from something they could pick while Muslims abstain from desires like food and sex. Then we parted ways, i waited at the computer labs until 7pm for Isyak prayers.
When i came to the prayer room, I saw the same guy with my two friends and i was shocked. they said he just want to look around to see the prayer room so i gave the dates that we had to him to try. So he was looking at the quran and the masjid.
Then the Adzan (call to prayer), started and my friend told this guy to just follow at the back. I didn’t know whether he is joining us or will leave so i just did my Isyak which is an obligatory prayer which consist of 4 cycles of prostration. After Isyak i looked back and there he was smiling and finishing his prayers. i was afraid that he couldn’t take it as there will be terawih prayers which is an optional prayer and it consist of 2 cycles in 4 sets and a witir prayer which is 2 cycles and 1 cycle of prostration.
Luckily beside him there was a christian revert who was beside him. Then he asked the guy whether he is muslim and he said no but he just want to observe. then terawih prayers started. So I did the prayers and every time the prayers we finished, i would look back. he was smiling, then as more prayers went, he looks tired but kept on going until the final prayer.
I was amazed that he go through all the prayers and finished it. So after the prayers we sat down and have tea, coffee and water with the dates from the iftar and have a chat. I asked him why did not contue praying until the end with us and the what he said astounded me . He said “That would be rude if i leave”. A non muslim saying that when some muslims leave straight after isyak prayers. I asked him how do you feel after the prayers and he said he was hearing gibberish and his knees hurt. I said to him that the long prayers only happened in ramadan.
I found out that i and my friend were being ignorant muslims by not telling him what to do. for example, to be in line because a brother thought he was muslim and not praying with us, asked him to pray with the line. Another brother asked him to fold his arms when he was praying too and i felt bad and apologized to him. so we began to chat him him.
Then there is a discussion and the guy asked do Muslims believe in saints. i could not answer that question but the one that answered was a christian who reverted to Islam. He said no because Muslim can directly communicated with god but i think back some Muslims do think of some imams as said where we are not suppose to do that. so the brother talked about how early Christians do not believe in saints until a few hundred years where edicts changed that. He also talked about why Islam is good.
I as a Muslim learnt a lot that day and i have respect for that brother who reverted because he found Islam through struggles. So after the conversation the brother gave this guy a Quran translated to English. we then walked back to the dorm. i asked him what is his religion and he said he is an antagonist which believes in a higher order but not to a certain religion. He said he did go to temples and see Buddhism too.
I can’t believe i have experienced meeting an antagonist searching for the truth because you only see that in in youtube but you don’t get to see it for yourself. sometime i want to guide people into Islam but i feel i am not a good Muslim because some Muslims judge me so i tend to be neutral. i do pray for him for the best.
What it’s like to be detained in Guantanamo Bay
Moazzam Begg spent 20 months in solitary confinement in the Guantanamo Bay detention camp after being arrested in Pakistan. He was released without charge in January 2005.
My cell was about eight foot by six foot. You couldn’t take more than three steps in either direction. It had a metal bunk fixed in and a steel toilet and wash basin.
There was no window so you couldn’t see if it was day or night. There was constantly a soldier or two outside watching me on three or four hour shifts. And that was it. That was home.
An average day would begin at dawn. Around 6am breakfast would come through what is known as the “bean hole”, a flap in the metal door. It would be pretty bland and nasty most of the time, something like boiled egg or cornflakes.
Around 8am I would prepare myself for the “recreation area”. It was about 15 foot by 15 foot. I would run round and round like a mouse in a wheel, 20 times in one direction then 20 times in the other so the weight wouldn’t all be on one leg. Back in my cell I would do press-ups and sit-ups.
For the rest of the day there was nothing to look forward to except for prayer times and, even though the food was bland, meal times. Supper normally came around 5pm and I went to bed around 10pm. There were no other prisoners to talk to – I was completely alone.
How can I describe the isolation? Think about the smallest room in your house. Go inside there for just half an hour, don”t open the door and then think: ‘imagine being here for years on end’. That would give you a taste of what it is like.
I think I am a very sane, strong person but twice I lost control of my senses in solitary confinement. Literally lost control. I screamed and shouted and punched and kicked the walls and swore and cried.
The thing that helped me pass the time was my ability to write. They gave me a little pen that was two inches long and made of floppy plastic so it couldn’t be used as a weapon. I wrote letters to my kids, poetry and lists of words – anything that I could remember.
There was a librarian who came round once a week. He had a small selection of very old books that were mostly English classics. I read Charles Dickens, including Bleak House. I read the Lord of the Rings series. The books available primarily had nothing to do with current affairs, had no maps and didn’t discuss politics.
The other thing that was important was the ability to converse with the soldiers. Some were clearly hostile, but with others my relationship became quite close. Being born and raised in the UK you know all about American culture so we would talk about films and television series.
With some soldiers I knew their first names, their last names, their family’s names. I knew where they studied, I knew where they worked and their views. Some expressed sympathy. They became friends, proper friends. I have seen some of them since leaving.
Interspersed during all of this were interrogations. The types of interrogators would vary: some would be aggressive, hostile, threatening; others would just want to talk and be seen as a friendly voice. The most sinister and threatening ones I ever came across were from the CIA.
Sleep was something that you looked forward to doing. A dream was so much more than a dream, it was an escape. As long as you were asleep you were not inside the cell. You were free.
I would see family members and friends in my dreams. I would see England, I would see Birmingham, I would see the places where I grew up, but then I would wake up. The nightmare wasn’t when I was asleep – it was when I woke.
A military officer came in one day with his hands behind his back and said ‘Mr Begg, there are no charges against you and the military has decided to release you. You will be going home in a few days.’ That was it. I didn’t believe it at first, but it was true.
As time goes on the memories of my time there do fade a little bit. I now campaign and try to use the experience for something positive.
But recently I had a terrible nightmare about Guantanamo. I woke up and said to myself: ‘I am never going to get over this. This is never going away’.
Autumn morning in Berlin (by Alexander Rentsch)
working on it :)
(Source: kaiwfit, via daybeforetwinge)
Cotton Clouds ~ By PzychoNoir
(via Dulce de Leche Eclairs = the Best thing Ever » thelittlewhitekitchen.com)
So we’ll just let things take their course, and never be sorry. — F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Benediction (via thatkindofwoman)
(Source: fuckyeahfitzgerald, via alwayssaira)