Recommended Reading
In the middle of a ploughed field, a four o'clock sun pounds fallow land.
A man turns Eastward, raises arms upward, bend forward, arms outstretched and intones
'Allah o Akhbar,
Allah o Akhbar,
Ashadu ala illaha illalah,
Ashadu anna Mohamed,
Hayy ala salat, hay ala falah...'
His voice is lost in the wide expanse.
An old man in long black jalaba, taps his route along the busy walkway. He holds a stick in his left hand. A large straw hat shades his eyes. His right hand stretches out in supplication.
'Give me some small token that I might eat, in the name of Allah.'
When rejected, he does not give up. He approaches the next person in his path. His pointed index finger singles out the stranger, drawing him into his line of vision.His introduction is a well-rehearsed refrain.
'If you dine us tonight, may Allah dine you in Heaven, you and your nearest and dearest. May Allah bless you and your family. May he give you a good life.'
The stranger averts his eyes. The old man follows step by step until no hope is left. He turns to try his luck elsewhere.
In the midday heat, cars zig-zag in all directions across the busy road. Each pent-up driver has his own set of rules. Car fumes spill into a choking airless void. Traffic lights change red. Cars pull to a standstill in one direction. From nowhere, a man tries to cross the road. A toothless hunchback, one eye closed. He finds a place to cross. Broken sandals fall off blistered feet. He bends forward under the weight of his withered mother's body.
'Allah o Akhbar,
Allah o Akhbar...'
