For lunch, the twins brought me two McChicken sandwiches, which i happily munched away on in the lounge. In the middle of one sandwich, I couldn’t quite recall if i had said my Bismillah’s or not, so I simply repeated them. That jogged my memory to times when people have asked me if I eat zabiha only or otherwise. However, sometimes the question comes out as “Do you eat Halal?”, to which i dryly answer “Well, I try real hard to avoid eating haram”. Never the less, the context of the question is well understood by both parties, though the humor may not be appreciated by all.
Living in a non-muslim country, our eating habits have been challenged by the local society at large. Pig products are readily available, and fresh muslim butcheries are absent; a sharp contrast from back home. The recent Al-Safa controversy still surrounds us. We muslims strive hard to make sure that we are eating halal and not haram, that we don’t drink booz, or do drugs for all such is haram. We are so proud of being able to stand up tall and say “oh yeah, i’m doing good work here, most definitely”.
But how many of us are able to look at the rest of our daily lives and say the same? Apart from the average 2-3 hours spent on food a day, can you really say that the remaining 21 hours are spent in a halal (or at the very least a self morally acceptable) fashion?
We backbite, we lie, we steal, we date, we cheat, we flirt, we stare, we don’t pray, we are rude, we are inconsiderate, we are greedy, we are miserly, we are so much more then this. And sadly, so many of those negative attributes have become second nature to us…we can barely tell where the line exists anymore.
We don’t care. As long as we can get away with it, it’s allowed, it’s legit, it’s all ok. The sirens of our own souls dampened out, we are carefree beasts, animals, living on basic lusts and desires to do what delights us.
You disgust me.
All that within, disgusts me.
The thing is, we still have to live on. You, me, everybody. Day by day, crawling, standing, walking, slowly, carefully, having learnt from stumbles past, smelling flowers only new, studying pastures only rare, the rest safely tucked in your backpack, then a slight jog, not too rapid, careful now, you’re on your way, everything by instint, left foot, right foot, up leg, down leg, arm here, arm there and yes, it all makes sense, you’re stronger now you’re braver now you’re smarter now you’re –
on the ground, hands bleeding, belongings scattered, experience withheld, instincts clawing out to protect, bruised battered, knees torn.
Well done. Well. Done.
Stop. Resist. Don’t lash out. I promise you, this is life. That much, I can tell.
The rest…
Ob la di, ob la da.