"I think the year eleven girls that Peter once hooked up with are having one too." Tyler said with a shrug as we discussed which party we'd go to tonight. It was Friday and we were sitting in the gym as the teacher was absent with no substitute. We could have just left but Jackson took the opportunity to go to the machines room to box and we were waiting for him.
'That's gonna be full of year eleven's.' I muttered with a roll of my eyes. Year eleven parties were annoying. Full of girls who'd dance with you then get scared and run away when you tried to take it further. Prudes.
"So what? More virgins." Tyler said with a smirk making me laugh loudly as I punched his shoulder and shook my head. This kid would never change.
"Yeah, except you have to go dancing around ten of them until you find one that gives it up." Peter muttered from his position where he was lying on the floor, his hands joined behind his back as he stared at the high ceiling above us.
"Exactly." I said with a smirk. "I reckon we should just go to the new kids' one. Test the scene a little." I said, speaking with a shrug as I took my phone out of my pocket to look at the time, only to see a message, the name Ahmad written across the top.
When the hell did he gets my number and when the bell did I get his?
The guys found your wallet at the mosque. It's got your ID in it.
'I rolled my eyes and groaned. Great. Now I'd have to go back and get it. It had been two days since I was there, how had I not realized I didn't have my wallet?
See, this is what happens when you don't go clubbing and don't need to spend money on alcohol. You don't realize your bloody wallet is missing.
"First time I've seen you not smirk at a text." Tyler laughed as he leaned over my shoulder and looked at the message before I even had a chance to pull the phone away from his gaze. I quickly deleted the message and shoved the phone into my pocket.
"Ahmad? Who the hell's that?" He scoffed as he raised an eyebrow, leaning back to his original position and extending his legs outwards to get more comfortable on the floor.
"It's the guy Jackson stabbed." I said, the words slipping out before I even had a chance to realize what I was telling them. Tyler tensed and turned to look at me as Peter sat up.
"What the hell?' Peter muttered as he raised his eyebrows, looking confused as to why I even budged his number. Hell, I didn't even know that myself. Maybe he had gotten it when I was drunk and he took me to the mosque. For what? I don't know, but I know for sure I hadn't given my number to him.
"Since when'd you become mates?" Tyler laughed loudly as he looked at measifI was an idiot. I exhaled, shoving my hands in my pockets as I watched Jackson walk into the Gym, sweat dripping from his forehead as he wiped it with the back of his white top that looked like it would rip any second.
„"Aye, Jacko! King's become friends with the Muzzie you stabbed." Peter called out as he released a laugh, making Tyler burst out into laughter yet again as my anger began to rise. What was the big deal?
We weren't even friends.
Muslim, Peter. They're Muslims." I said, narrowing my eyes at him and Tyler as they both clutched their stomachs, rolling around the floor like the idiots they were all the while Jackson seemed to be lost in the conversation, clearly not having any idea what we were talking about.
"Jheeze, sorry then." Peter said sarcastically, holding up his hands in surrender, but meaning it in no other way than a joke. "How's his wound by the way? Did you bandage it up for him too?" He asked me before once again the both of them cracked up into laughter and high fived each other as if they had just said the joke of the year.
'Listen, mate." I seethed. "Someone getting stabbed isn't something to joke about. He could have died! How do you not give a crap?!' I said, not even knowing why I was getting so defensive over the whole thing. Ahmad didn't even rat any of us to the police, he stopped them from coming after you by making them take him to the hospital instead, and he forgave you all, and you guys are here making fun of the whole thing!?" I shouted, standing up, my body rigid and my shoulders tense as I looked into the wide eyes of Tyler and Peter as they stared at me as if I was a psycho.
"Wow. Much inspirational. Much thoughtful." Tyler muttered, slowly clapping his hands together. Soon Peter joined him, also doing the same and once again, they burst into laughter, literally rolling on the floor while clutching their stomachs. I didn't need to see anymore. I turned around and walked out of the gym, cursing them in my head. I didn't even care about Ahmad. I couldn't care less about his bloody stab wound, but wasn't it human nature not to joke about someone's life being threatened? I don't know what it was, but this last week, I was beginning to drift more and more from the guys. My mind was in shambles and I had no idea what to think.
'Not gonna lie, I was surprised when you called.' Ahmad spoke as he picked me up from in front of the school, his voice coming out of the open window on the passenger side. I got into the car and shut the door behind me.
"You texted me, buddy." I muttered as I leaned my hand out the window, welcoming the cool air against my skin as he began driving down the road and towards their temp ... mosque. Towards the mosque.
"To pick up your wallet, not so I could be your chauffeur. Plus, don't you already have people working for you. Why did you call me?" He asked me with a roll of his eyes as he dropped gears, approaching a red light.
"Why'd you come then?" I countered, smirking at him as I took out a packet of cigarettes from my pocket and lit one, inhaling the toxic chemicals that spread down my throat.
"I'm asking myself the same thing." He muttered as he glanced at me, shaking his head as I laughed before the light turned green and we were on our way again.
"Don't you go to school?" I asked him. It seemed like he was always available at all hours of the day, no school, no job. What did this guy do for a living?
"Done with those two years ago. I'm twenty two, mate. I teach kids Arabic at the mosque and work at a shelter at night." He said to me, I assumed that's why he was always out in the middle of the night. Probably on the way back home from a shelter. The bar we were at the night Jackson stabbed Ahmad did have a shelter close by so my best guess was that he worked there.
"How much can you make from a shelter?" I asked him, blowing the smoke out of the window as I started recognizing the road to the mosque now that I had been to and from there around four times.
"Enough to get by." He shrugged simply and I nodded my head, staying silent as I watched the road ahead.
"What about you? Your parents' lawyers or something?" He asked, clearly trying to start up another conversation even though the silence in the car wasn't awkward.
'My dad owns an international accounting firm." I said simply, but he must've noticed the slight tensing of my shoulders and my jaw clenching because he quickly changed the subject after a slight nod.
"Only child?" He asked and I nodded with a sigh. I didn't like questions and so I hoped he'd understand that with my exhale rather than having to tell him to shut up. I guess he was smarter than I thought he was since he didn't ask anything else. It took another five minutes before we reached the mosque. I butted my cigarette on the ground and followed a step behind Ahmad, passing the gates and walking to the main entrance.
"Let me give you a little tour." He said and even though I wanted to say 'I'm cool', I didn't. I don't know why, but I just kept my mouth shut and fell in step next to him. "This is a soccer field." He said as we walked to the end of the car park. I saw a high fenced field come into view. The grass and so it was dead and mainly filled with patches of brown dirt as opposed to green. "Why don't you put in artificial turf?" I asked him as he continued walking along the gate and to the back side of the mosque.
"It's too expensive." He said simply. "We make fundraisers and stuff but we send the money to charity instead of fixing our first world problems." He chuckled, looking at me with a smile and I nodded, realizing now that our view on the world and most likely everything it encompassed was worlds apart. He, and the other Muslims, thought about the greater good and about the well being of others whereas I was living for myself. Selfish. That was the word. I had no problem being selfish. It was a dog eat dog world, of course I was going to think about myself. People were dumb to do otherwise.
"What's the tower for?" I asked, changing the conversation as I looked up at the thin cylindrical tower on the corner of the mosque's building.
"That's called a minaret. There's stairs inside that go around and around to the top. Back in the day, before speakers were invented, the call to prayer was recited from there. The mu'adhdhin, the person who reads the call to prayer, would climb up to the top and read it from the balcony. That way his voice would echo and more people would hear. Now it's just there for the culture." He said it as a joke, making me laugh. "We'll go up one day; the view from the top is amazing." He said.
"You sound like a girl." I muttered with a laugh, making him roll his eyes at me and mutter whatever under his breath as he kept walking.
"The domes don't really have significance." He told me. "They're just for aesthetics. From the inside it looks better." He said and I agreed. It gave the outside a nice look too but the way it was decorated with calligraphy and intricate designs inside was so much nicer. I loved it.
Jheeze, now I was sounding like a girl.
We walked around the back and made it to the front in no time while speaking about when this mosque was built. "Most of the group has been here for ten years so most know each other but more people join every week. You don't have to join to come worship but like when you do, we send people invitations when there are organized fundraisers or carnivals, barbecues and all that stuff."
'That sounds pretty sick." I said, hearing barbecue. I loved barbecues and it'd been a while since I had one with a group of people. The only thing my life had become these past years was sleeping in school, partying, sleeping in bed.
``When I was here the other day, what was the thing that was being read from the speakers?" I asked, trying to make it seem as casual and carefree as possible. I don't know why I tried to make it seem like that. I mean, I guess I didn't want him to think I was interested in Islam, which I wasn't. I was completely fine with no belief in anything that limited my freedom, thank you very much.
"Probably the adhan." He said as he slowed down once we reached the front of the mosque, kneeling down as he untied his shoes. I sighed and did the same. "It's the call to prayer that I mentioned about the tower thing. When the time of the prayer comes in, it's ready to call the people to worship." He put his shoes on the shelf and I followed his actions.
``It happens every afternoon?" I asked him. "Is it Arabic?" I fired yet another question, seriously having no clue why I was so intrigued by it.
"Yeah, Arabic. It's read five times a day. Muslims pray five times a day minimum, some pray more to be closer to God, but five are compulsory so it's read before each one." He explained briefly as we walked into the building and once again I was mesmerized by the intricate designs covering the ceilings and the walls.
"What does it say?" I asked in order to keep the conversation going. He turned to look at me and stopped walking, asking me whether I wanted the basic answer or the full answer. I shrugged. I had time.
"Well, it starts off with Allahu Akbar, meaning Allah/God is Greatest. Then it says the shahada which is the Muslim's declaration of faith. So, (Ash-badu an-la ilaha illa Allah), meaning I bear witness that there is none worthy of worship besides God, and (Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan Rasulullah), meaning I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.
Then it says, (Hayya 'alas-Salah), come to prayer, (Hayya' alalFalah), come to success. Then Allahu Akbar, God is greatest again and finally, (La ilaha illa-Allah), there is no God but Allah.'
I stared at him, taking in the words and going over them, repeating them in my mind. Allahu Akbar, God is greatest ... How did these people so deeply believe in something that they had no proof of?
"Come on, then." He said once he realized I wasn't going to say anything else as I was busy going over his words. He led the way to the bookshelf and stood on his toes to reach the top, moving his hand to the left and right a little before he grabbed the wallet and handed it to me.
"So, I took it out of his hands and shoved it into my back pocket, clearing my throat. "You don't believe in Jesus?" I asked him. Jesus was the only religious thing I knew. God's son. That's what my parents believed but religion was never even a big thing in their lives so in turn, it was never a part of mine. The only time I'd see them do anything religious was on Easter when we would go to church for an hour, listen to the love God had for us and then leave until 365 days later.
"We do, but not in the same way as you guys ..."
"I'm not Christian." I said, cutting him off. "I don't believe in anything." I added and he looked at me for a second or two before nodding his head and continuing while he walked down to the other end of the mosque.
"Well, Christian's believe he's God's son and call on him as well when they make their prayers. Muslims believe in Jesus, except he wasn't God's son. We only pray to God alone, no one else. He was just a messenger, like Muhammad was. Muhammad was the seal of the prophets, peace be upon them all. He was the final one. We believe all the messengers the Christian's believe. David, Solomon, Noah, Adam, Isaac, Jacob ... the whole lot and the stories are roughly the same as well. Oh, and
Christian's believe that Jesus died on the cross, but we believe God took Jesus up to Himself and instead allowed someone else who looked like him to die on the cross. During the end of times, he's going to be sent back to the world. He will kill the pig and break the cross and he will lead the Muslims according to Islamic rule." He explained it to me. Despite the fact that I was listening intently and my heart was pounding against my chest at his every word for reasons unknown to me, I still scoffed.
"Sounds like a bunch of hocus pocus to me." I said with a shrug, hoping that I managed to effectively hide what I was thinking inside. He gave me a small smile as he sighed and sat down on a corner of the mosque. I had no clue whatsoever why, but instead of getting up and leaving now that I had my wallet, I chose to sit down across from him and extend my legs in front of me, my back leaning against a large pillar.
"I'm actually baffled at how you can believe something you've never seen any proof of so deeply." I muttered, shutting my eyes as I leaned my head on the pillar. I don't know why I felt so at ease here. Maybe it was that the carpets were comfortable as hell, but wherever it was, I was good to sit here for some time before getting bored and leaving.
"When you feel so at ease and peaceful while doing something, you sort of start to feel attached to it, for that sole purpose. We Muslims have Allah to turn to in all times of distress and sadness and every blessing we have in life, is thanks to Him. Why not believe in God when He is our sole Helper and Provider? In a way, it's like your alcohol. You find refuge in it, so you're happy with that being a part of your life. If alcohol was a religion, that's probably what you'd be ... an alcoholic, I guess." He said with a laugh and I joined him.
"Trust me, mate. If that is a religion, I'm already an alcoholic. I just don't know it yet.' I muttered, hearing the end of his chuckle. "But that's a stupid comparison. It doesn't answer my question. Like, I'm speaking scientifically. No proof." I said. Wow. I was so adamant on finding out what it was that made these people believe in a higher power with no proof.
"Well, if you're speaking of things like signs, then there are signs that stem from the Qur'an. Surah ... Uh, chapter 25, the name of it is Furqan, verse 53;
"And it is He who has released [simultaneously] the two seas, one fresh and sweet and one salty and bitter, and He placed between them a barrier and prohibiting partition.
Also in chapter Rahman, verses 19, 20 and 22 Allah tells us; He released the two seas, meeting [side by side] between them is a barrier [so] neither of them transgresses. From both of them emerge pearls and coral."
He said and I opened my eyes to look at him when he stopped talking to see he was typing away at his phone, before showing me the screen.
"See that?" He said as I looked at the screen. "It's where saltwater and freshwater meet. None of it mixes. With science today, yeah, we know this isn't possible for it to mix like oil and water, whatever. But this was stated in the Qur'an over 1400 years ago. now tell me how Muhammad peace be upon him, an illiterate shepherd who lived in the Middle East, practically the middle of a desert climate environment and spent all his time in this area was supposed to know that somewhere in the world salt water and fresh water didn't mix?" He said to me and yet again I felt my heart quicken its pace as I stared at the photo. He eventually moved the phone away and put it back into his pocket. 'It's not only that. There are so many verses in the Qur'an that have scientific knowledge included that scientists found out a couple hundred years back. About the fetus in the womb, about animals, the universe, seasons, physics, biology. Multiple. I'll send you a link; you can look through it yourself." He shrugged
(Http: //www.speed-light. info/miracles_of_quran/)
"To be honest, besides all of that, everything else is just illogical." He spoke. "Big bang." He scoffed. "Come on. The Big Bang is going to occur and then all of a sudden the galaxies, the planets, the oceans, trees, animals, humans ... everything is just going to appear? That sounds like a bunch of hocus pocus to me. This world was created to such a fine point, down to the tiniest atom. Someone had to have created. I personally see no logic behind the Big Bang." He said with a shrug before telling me it was just his opinion and that he wasn't trying to offend me for my beliefs, when really, I didn't believe in the Big Bang. Well, I had never asked myself that. What created the universe? Or better yet, who created the universe?
My heart pounded and I could hear the beating in my throat, feeling beads of sweat form on my forehead. I cleared my throat.
"Do you have siblings?" I asked him, wanting to change the subject as soon as possible as I felt too overwhelmed with everything he was saying. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket but didn't feel the need to check it as I knew it was Ahmad's message of the link to the miracles of Qur'an, their Holy Book that he had mentioned earlier.
"Yeah, a little sister your age and an older brother who's 25." He answered me and I nodded. Asking him what his name meant.
Much praise." He answered me with a smirk and I shook my head with a small laugh.
"Cocky, are we?" I muttered.
"Rich coming from someone named King." He spoke, looking like he was holding in his laughter. Only I couldn't and released a chuckle. "But nah, it's one of names of prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him and it also means one who constantly thanks God." He said and I nodded, once again closing my eyes as I leaned my head on the pillar.
"As salaam alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh." A guy came up to Ahmad who sat up and shared a hug with the man, giving him the same greeting back before sitting back down as the guy left after simply shaking my hand. I looked around and realized people were beginning to walk in slowly and the mosque was beginning to get more crowded.
"Why don't some guys wear your dress?' I asked as I realized some people walking in who were dressed just like me. Some didn't even have beards or anything.
"You don't have to wear a thobe ... or a dress." He said with a chuckle. "The prophet, peace be upon him, used to and so if you want to strive to be like him in every way, you can wear it, if you don't want to, there's no sin in not wearing it either."
'And the beard? Is that optional too?" I then asked, I recall slightly a Muslim girl in our school who had since graduated, but her dad didn't have a beard.
"Nah," He shook his head. "There are many sayings from the Prophet, peace be upon him, and his companions that instruct us to trim the mustache but leave the beard to grow. Out of the four schools of thought, only one of them, the shafi'i school, believes it is not a must, they say trimming the beard is disliked, but the rest say it is a sin."
Schools of thought? I would have to ask about this later on. It seemed like a long conversation to have right now. "Right." I said as I looked up, my eyes catching onto the second floor of the building that was covered with curtains. I didn't even need to ask the question this time as Ahmad clearly realized the curious look in my features.
"Women pray up there." He said and just as I was about to comment, speaking of how extreme it was to hide the women away, another familiar voice spoke up.
'Aye, look who it is again. God bless, man. You seem to be here more than I am." Walter spoke as he pulled up his dress ... thobe and sat down cross legged, patting my shoulder and hugging Ahmad as they exchanged greetings again. I couldn't help but shake my head; of course they didn't miss the small smile on my lips. I guess these guys were pretty funny to be honest.
"So yeah, basically I used to cop beatings from my dad for drinking too much, now I'm a Muslim and I cop beatings from him for not drinking enough." Walter said, struggling to keep his voice steady as he kept laughing loudly, the guys around us including me howling with laughter also.
I took a deep breath and wiped the tears in my eyes as I listened to his story. Around us, Ayman, who was apparently the sports coordinator of the mosque, which I never thought they'd even have, Bilal, an eighteen year old school dropout and Talha, a guy my age, had joined the group around us?
Right after Walter had first joined Ahmad and I, the call to prayer, the adhan, was heard once again and yet again, I felt the same tingly feelings as I did the first time I had heard it, except this time, I remembered the words that Ahmad had told me and it made me feel even more overwhelmed.
Ahmad and Walter had joined the men at the front of the mosque and words were said in Arabic as they prayed altogether in rows while I waited. It took about ten minutes before they came back with the other three guys and we had been talking ever since.
"He once tried mixing alcohol in my food without me knowing. Like, come on, I can smell alcohol from a mile away." He said with a laugh and Ahmad almost spat out the water he was drinking from laughing too hard. "I did take a fork, not gonna lie, but man didn't know my religion is one of the hearts and everything lies with your intention.
"Man probably thought you were gonna get kicked out of Islam for it." Ahmad laughed loudly.
I shook my head with a small grin and realized how much Walter and I have in common besides the fact that he no longer had fun but I was still going strong. "Quiet down, boys. People are reading the Qur'an." A man in his mid 40's said as he walked by with slightly narrowed eyes. The in his mid 40's said as he walked by with slightly narrowed eyes. The boys all apologized and quieted down, exchanging their greeting with the man.
"But, hey, still respect your old man, yeah?" Ahmad spoke while tapping Walters shoulder and he nodded his head while I took out my phone and widened my eyes. What the hell? "It's already seven?' I muttered more to myself as I noticed all the missed calls from Peter and Tyler as well as my dad. Crap, tonight was a Friday. I had parties to go to and I was here sitting in the mosque. "I gotta go." I spoke as I stood up; dusting my pants off even though the floors were perfectly clean.
'Let me guess. Another party." Ahmad said with a roll of his eyes and I smirked. The rest of the guys all got up and chuckled as they saw my facial expression, clearly realizing that Ahmad was indeed right about his guess.
"At least give me your bloody address so I don't need to drop you back here again when your friends leave your drunk self in the middle of the pathway." He said as we all began walking to the entrance. I didn't know whether they were all leaving too or whether they were just taking me there.
"I'll be good. Don't worry." I said as I took my shoes off the shelf and slipped them on before kneeling to the ground to tie my laces up.
'`We're gonna play ball on Sunday, insha Allah.' Ayman said as he stood with his hands shoved into his pockets. I had found out that insha Allah means If God Wills. "Tag along if you want." He added and the other guys agreed as I told them I'd have to see, not giving any promises. After shaking hands with the guys, I left the place and called a taxi straight to the party.
From one extreme, to the other, but I was okay being in both ... for now.