I remember arches like this at my grandma's old lane
my city so full of history war torn and in tears...
but they called her the devestator.. though she has been devestated much.. each wall, each city street, each corner spoke of history.. you can feel yourself amidst a battle scene ... or alone in dimly torched mosque in the night to pray
yes I walked her street, and of her citadel wrote a thousand prose
holding the hands of my grandmother or aunt, between its archways I ran chasing the sun.. her name rolls of my tongue like a beautiful ballade
my mother country will probably one day hold me in her deep.. as I now hold her in mine.. but no her history isn't my fondest memory nor are her old provinces and streets.. rather sleeping at my grandma's old house in Ramadan.. I wish I can re-live just one day.. living on memories is almost too much to bear seeing how many of them passed on.. nonetheless --I visit them still in my mind from time to time and especially during Ramadan.. we'd be scattered about the huge house me and my million cousins, aunts and uncles.. the grand room had six french style windows on each wall... the 5th window was my favorite.. there was a crooked nail there I used to always put my finger on as if to console it for its asymmetry.. much happened there, from soccer matches, to mothers yelling at their kids, to the cactus fruit man peeling away as we lowered our plates to him in banana leaf baskets along with 10 or 20 piasters...
but it was there too in the wee hours of the night that the 'mos7rati' (night caller) came about drumming... waking people by their first names-- Ms lila , Usama effendi wake up oh you who are sleeping and praise your lord, and with it the old lane would again come alive.. It is probably a pastime that is no longer practised?
I don't know... my uncle has died since, and so did my sweet aunt, my grandmother too, and her niece aunt kawthar and her son nabeel .. long gone is the old house, its old walls probably in some reckless abandon.. but not from my memory...
Anyhow would love to hear your stories too of your old country and your fondest memory of Ramadan..
Last edited by جوري; 09-19-2007 at 03:10 AM.
Reason: typo
Text without context is pretext If your opponent is of choleric temperament, seek to irritate him
It seems more like an arab tradition and maybe malay/indo too if i'm not mistaken. You won't find those lanterns hanging in SE Asia, but you will find drummers (even those without drums) walking the streets and calling others to wake up.
25:36 And the true servants of the Most Merciful are those who walk the earth with humility and when the ignorant address them, they respond with words of peace.
It seems more like an arab tradition and maybe malay/indo too if i'm not mistaken. You won't find those lanterns hanging in SE Asia, but you will find drummers (even those without drums) walking the streets and calling others to wake up.
so no lanterns in pakistan or india? maybe they should start!
i like 'em. much prettier than xmas lights.
each man thinks of his own fleas as gazelles
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The drummer culture is very popular in Central and East Africa. They like wild safari dance while beating the huge drums . A wonderful experience to witness their performance during festivals.
my mum got us used to fasting very early...it was a serious matter for all of us...almost every year she wud try n get us to fast the number of days according to our age...
age 5=5 fasts
age 6=6 fasts
etc
i remember i fell really badly once and i was fasting...i mustve been about 7 or something and my grandma tryed to make me drink water and i refused till they almost killed me...they arent very religious ppl..but they try.
"'Cause I hear the whispered words
In your masterpiece beautiful
You speak the unspeakable through
I love you too"
my mum got us used to fasting very early...it was a serious matter for all of us...almost every year she wud try n get us to fast the number of days according to our age...
age 5=5 fasts
age 6=6 fasts
etc
i remember i fell really badly once and i was fasting...i mustve been about 7 or something and my grandma tryed to make me drink water and i refused till they almost killed me...they arent very religious ppl..but they try.
wow.. i have to be honest, as a kid i barely fasted. i fasted more when i was 12 then when iwas 15. im only beginning to really fast again for real. i was very religious when i was younger then i let go for some reason. my parents barely let me fast now lol its funny you fasted so young. my brother isnt allowed to fast and hes 11
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