Down there in the urban centres one gets almost nothing whatever of the old stuff—god, the moral codes, death & the after-life. In these communities all that’s ever present. Imagine, so many prostrating themselves FIVE times EVERY day without fail. The other day one of my young friends took me to a famous old saint’s tomb down by the docks—surrounded incidentally by dirty great towers, J P Morgan, Westin &etc. Saints are present to us Muslims you know P, says Zee. Oh yeah. Chatting we came to the contentious matter of the combining of prayers; ie. No.s 3 & 4 together say, cos you were pressed for one reason or another. Zainuddin with his relaxed attitude to such outward observances commonly did that, the young woman was told. Nazeera gave a pitying look, taking care to remain respectful as she knew of the esteem in which the old Sufi friend was held. Impossible to imagine the difference compared to down there. Dark side of the moon.
(Another excerpt from an email exchange with a friend in Oz.)
No comments:
Post a Comment