Nur's Story

I am going to tell you a real story – story of a young lady I met quite by accident in Bucharest. This story strengthened my heart. It is quite normal to have doubts, even the Prophets had them. The day I met Nur[1], I was on the lowest rung of Iman. I was in a complaining mood and poured out questions to Allah. I often do that. Life has taught me to depend only on him. I went to the Mosque where I study the Arabic pronunciation of the Koran from a very able young lady from Jordan. I was earlier than usual, a reflection of my state of restlessness! I entered the room to find a beautiful girl wearing hijab. She got up from the table where she was working and with an apology for being there, was about to leave. I told her I was early and so there was no hurry. Then we introduced ourselves. Her name was Nur, she told me though she added she had been called Anca before, a very common name in Bucharest. ‘So you are a convert?” I asked. She said yes and on further questioning gave me a brief idea of how she had converted, not sufficient information but enough to wet my curiosity.

I requested her to visit me at my house and complete the story. So she came. What she told me made me much stronger and removed all doubts. I want you to ponder over the details. It is only the truth that I speak.

Nur had had a very unfortunate life since her child hood. She had parents and a sister but they were not a happy family. Her father was very difficult, her mother very weak and they had been subjected to a lot of abuse. One hoped that marriage would have bought her some relief but she was married against her will and subjected to more abuse. She did not want to dwell over the past or shame anyone because Islam has healed her. She said that she had realized with her conversion that,” One cannot live with hate and fear.” One has to let go. She has forgiven everyone and does not want them to be blamed. This act of forgiveness has been described in Koran as the quality of the people of the Paradise.

It was 15th of July 2001, Nur had reached a point where every moment of her life seemed unbearable. She decided to commit suicide .She could not suffer another day of her life. Every thing looked bleak, hopeless and meaningless. I think it is really hard to translate the exact state of mind and emotions of a person who is going to kill himself. She had planned it all, pre-pondered the reactions of her family and consoled herself with the eventual acceptance of the tragedy by her mother who meant a lot to her. At the time, Nur was working in a Turkish shop in Bucharest. Her boss would often get exasperated with her staff and throw up her hands in the air, exclaiming “Ya Allah!” When she asked a fellow assistant for explanation he told her that she was calling out to her God. Nur (I forget it was before or after this day) had gone to the church. She was used to doing that, she had always been God fearing and in times of desperation often called out to her gods. She was crying in church when the priest came to her and by way of consoling her mildly chided her, saying,” why don’t you go out and have fun? You are young, enjoy your life. Get a boy friend, go out to a disco, drink and be merry!” This was a deciding interaction. It finally convinced her that the church liturgy had no answers for her. She wanted something that could satisfy her within, make peace within her.

On the morning of 15th of July, the day she wanted to end her life, it was a Sunday and she was working in the shop. Some faint hope within her incited her to call out once again. But this time she called out to the God of the Turkish lady. She said clearly," Ya Allah, if you are the God, help me! Give me a clear sign - a sign that will tell me that you know what is happening to me, that you care. If I know that you are there and will reward me later for all the pain I have borne, I will go on but if not then I cannot bear living and I will end my life today."

And she went to work. As was to be expected she was very preoccupied but also waiting , for a response! It was nearing closing time, around six or seven o’clock in the evening when another customer walked in the door. She was sitting on the till and counting the money from the sales of the day. She found the task very hard. She fumbled several times and dropped the money, having to recount again and again. She did no bother to look up. A man came to the counter and said he wanted to buy a carpet and maybe some silver ornamental piece. She directed him with her hand as to where to look for them BUT did not look up. I don’t remember all the details of the conversation except the crucial sentences since she emphasized them. He said something else and she still did not look up but indicated with a gesture. In the face of such disregard almost rudeness, the man was forced to ask, "Ma'am, have I said something to offend you, why do you not look up?" Of course, this question had the desired effect and Nur raised her head. What happened next according to her cannot be described. The look in those eyes cut her in half as though with a knife. It was as though her body had been sliced into two halves. She could not look away and sat transfixed. This alarmed her and she began groping for the alarm button in order to alert the security. The customer, however followed her gesture and said, “Why are you calling security? I have not come to hurt you. I am just a visitor to the city and came here for gifts.” Then looking closely he read her face and asked, “Are you Okay?” She said nothing all this while but he seemed to have sensed her anguish because he continued, "I think you need help." Then as though he had suddenly some urgent business, he said,” I will be back in 15 minutes, just pack for me a carpet that you like and a nice silver piece. I will buy it,” and he left.

Nur said that I found myself trusting him and got up and packed what he had asked for. However the fifteen minutes extended to thirty minutes and he had still not come. She began to think that he was not returning when a voice behind her told him that he had come back. He came to her and held out a book, saying “This is your Book” and requested her to read it before she did anything. Nur said that it was overwhelming; almost frightening as to how he seemed to discern so much from her silence. Then he paid her cash, adding another two hundred dollars for her. She hesitated, but he insisted saying that he wanted nothing from her. He was leaving Bucharest in a couple of hours. Then he left.

Nur in her rather bewildered state of mind prepared to leave also. Her mind totally over whelmed, the idea of suicide forgotten. She got way finally and went to sit on the steps outside the Intercontinental hotel which was on her way home. She opened the Book. It was the Koran but she says she could not understand very much. However, she had got her answer - He is All hearing, All knowing. These qualities of Allah are often described in the Koran. She sat there for hours and finally walked home which was a long distance away. She reached around two o’clock in the morning. Her father was very angry and she went to bed with the Koran under her pillow.


The next morning she went back to work. Her boss called her. The security cameras trained on the sales counter had captured the total details of the encounter. They wanted an explanation. Nur had to tell them everything. Her boss was very upset that she had not sensed her anguish and told her that she cannot work at the shop. Nur cried out at this – she needed the money to sustain her. But that is not what the Turkish lady had meant. She was to have a salary but she would be spending her days at the library in her house, studying about Islam. Every day Nur went there and read everything from history, to religion, to art, to literature… and when in the evening the lady and her husband would return, she would poise questions that they clarified. Finally, after a couple of months she went to the mosque. The first time she heard the azan, she said it hit her in the heart and she knew she was right in her decision. She took the Shahadah and became a Muslim. The Muslims became her family. Her own family, on the other hand left her and so did her friends. However, after a year her mother came backto find her and when she heard the Azan, she spontaneously commented that she knew why her daughter had converted. Since I have heard this, I ponder over the Azan. We have simply got used to it. It means little to us because the soul is no longer something we feel the need to nurture.

On the back of the Koran, the gentlemen who visited the shop had left his name and address. Nur called him and found out that he was a Muslim scholar from Saudi Arabia who had been in Bucharest attending a conference. He had been passing by that shop for many days. But on that particular evening he decided to walk in on a moment’s decision. He had consulted fellow scholars on his return and they had agreed that he had been guided that day. He said he was not especially gifted and could not explain the expression in his eyes or the fact that he knew she was going to do something desperate. He went to the mosque to get the Koran since he could do nothing else, given his limited stay in the city.

I have taken the liberty of writing this story. Nur met me twice only. I volunteered to write her story but she was hesitant. I hope she writes it herself one day because when I listened to it the first time I was not taking down notes and now I regret it. I have tried to say exactly as I heard it and left out some comments that I was not sure I had heard correct. But the effect of this incident is so important that it had to be told.

[1] Name has been changed

Building Bridges

All three of us, a Jew, a Muslim and a Christian, met one night in April 2007 to discuss a common idea. Bonded by the ex-patriot experience in a little known, newly emerging economy, Romania, we felt that there was need for a real learning. Part of a multi- cultural community, amidst this amazing micro world representation of nationalities, backgrounds and religions, physical barriers had ceased to exist. The school and various organizations got people together and organized activities but then, incidents occurred, certain interactions took place that made us think that these introductions were superficial, the lack of tolerance often exhibited at these times was based on ignorance. Much learning takes place but we believe more real learning can take place. There is a need to seek more, delve into more details - the soft issues, the contradictions, the rituals, the dilemmas, the paradoxes, the unspoken taboos, the fashions, the highlights and so on of our different worlds. There was need to know more. The others could argue that there was so much going on but we were looking deeper for a link, a connection, a bridge, an understanding – that would connect us more strongly. We shared a sense of there being a need for more tolerance and mutual concern. This is what peace requires. The real ambition lies in our own development as better global villages. We all belong to our own countries and that makes us unique but then in an ex-patriot setting, we become global citizens – One family!

This was the start of the group. We did not know that others had had similar ideas and in America three ladies, also a Muslim, a Jew and A Christian had similarly started “The Faith Club,” following 9/11. We did not want to discuss religion only, we wanted to learn everything about each other and it is only later we realized that we three were actually devoutly entrenched in their beliefs. I found in my Jewish friend a genuine hunger for the truth that had haunted me a couple of years ago and I encouraged her to explore her religion. She told me later that she had gone back to the synagogue wearing a shawl I had given her, it was officially her prayer shawl but more than that we had made a real connection. Islam is closest to Judaism in its belief and we needed to understand the similarities. As for our Catholic friend, she revealed her desire to join the church and yet she met us without any prejudice. What was this invisible bond that connected us? I call it Taqwa, God consciousness. At some level we had realized that we were essentially the same. Essentially good and simple! With almost similar needs! Seeking to bypass the complicated web of misunderstanding, ignorance and lies that sever human ties!

Bridges has been the one of the most meaningful dialogue that I have indulged in. Small and discreet, the club shall continue to exist wherever we go.

Second chance

The story of Second Chance is the manifestation of how a simple and honest thought can change the destiny of a people – how only a few are able to do so much for so many. It marks the transition of a country shedding off the burden of its old days and emerging in a new garb of empowerment. It is about hope - of achieving the end that we aspire for in the beginning. Listening to Cosmina, I understood the wisdom of the words that I have heard so many times, words that say that God does not change the condition of a people unless they struggle to change themselves.

“I belong to Berceni which is 10 km away from Ploiesti. It is actually a cluster of 5 villages with a population of 6500 people. My parents were divorced and I kind of grew up in the church. After studying at the local school, I completed my high school in Ploiesti and later graduated with a degree in Tourism from Brasov University. I looked for a good job but they were all poorly paid. I am used to working. I have done it all my life, since I was a child, usually for a pittance. It was no longer enough. Meanwhile I had got married and moved to Bucharest. I had to explore alternative job options if I was to survive. My search ended when I began working with an American/ Swiss family – the Blattlers - as help, in 2002.

One morning, while sitting down to have coffee with Sarah Blattler, I told her about my village. Christmas was approaching and I mentioned that my mother and grandfather always shared all their food with another family from the village who did not have enough. This year since I was earning a good salary I wanted to help another two with my own money. I felt I owed them to share my good fortune. Sarah thought this a good idea and wanted to contribute. This was the beginning. Sarah and I planned to collect food and gifts for children for at least 6 families that year. Sarah told her mother who lived in the states of her plans, adding that this year they would not be receiving presents from her since it was all going in helping others who needed them more. Her mother in turn mentioned it to her friends and as a result, we were able to arrange a special Christmas for 40 families that year.’

What started as a feast for a few is today an annual extravaganza catering for some 600 people who are on the Social Support list in Bercini. A team of volunteers are funded by several donors plan and organize it. Cosmina genuinely believes that the rural people are very special. To her they are more simple and honest than any other. And so deserve a chance. On Sarah’s convincing they registered as a Foundation and so Second Chance came to be.

It reminded me of a lady in Islamabad, Pakistan. In the month of fasting, the Ramadan, she began with serving food to the guards in her lane who work for the foreign diplomats. They were only a few to start with but within the last couple of years ago some 600 people come to her house to partake of a meal that is fit for the very best. A staff of 5 people purchase and prepare food for them every single day for a month, and many contribute selflessly. I had the privilege of witnessing the preparation myself. It bought tears to my eyes.

But Christmas party is not all that Second Chance is about. If Poverty is to be alleviated, the charity realizes that they had to do much more. Some 175 families are very poor. They are deprived and often find little to brighten their lives. They lack the skills to earn enough to make ends meet. Even the most basic needs are not being fulfilled. In the winters the situation becomes desperate. The children have no shoes for winters nor sufficient food or clothing. The old do not leave their homes for they are ill equipped to handle the cold in winters. They usually have no one to look after them and very little to do otherwise. Proper shelter is also not always there.

As we have seen it is only the sincerity of intention that has made this initiative successful. In fact it is unimaginable how far it has come in so few years. Today, a group of volunteers from the international community and locals are working together to generate funds in order to satisfy the various needs of this community like renovating the schools, building playgrounds, a senior centre for elders etc. But most importantly they are teaching the locals to become self reliant. They are working closely to help equip them with skills and subsequent marketing of their goods to help them become self employed and self reliant. Second chance is working closely with Unicef, IWA, Acasa Foundation, and Light into Europe. They are funded by Metro, Romtelecom, Vodaphone, Coca cola, Campina among others but while I was sitting with Cosmina a phone call came to inform her that one of their main donors could not support them for the Christmas party this year. These hiccups require constant work for the volunteers.

It has always been the way with Second Chance that as soon as the money comes in they set about using it immediately and children are a key priority. They started with renovating the Kindergarten. I was told that the first time the carpet was laid out for the very young kids, they took off their shoes and began rolling over it in excitement. It was a most rewarding sight. The teachers and volunteers enthusiastically cooked food for the workers and helped with almost everything for nothing, even staying longer hours than was expected. This will to self help is the key to success.

I realized the importance of an insider when Cosmina told me how she had insisted on having toilets built inside. Others had felt that it was not as important as other things. However, she recalled from her own experience how desperately it was needed – as a child in the school she would hold for hours for fear of going out in the cold to the toilets – basically two holes in the ground outside. It was also imperative to teach children the most basic rules of hygiene and for that having an indoor toilet was necessary. The middle school has 350 students so the first toilet was made for them and then recently, another has been made for the younger ones. However, two are not enough and there is need for more.

She also recounted how difficult it had been to go every day to Ploiest to attend high school. As teenagers they had to walk three km and then change several trams to reach their destination. Imagine what it would have been like in winters! As a result not many went. Maybe one day soon they can have a bus?

Nothing seems improbable any more. Second chance has had many friends and benefactors who have carried on the initial spirit. The ex patriot wives have made a great contribution. Within the community the volunteers have been many. And most important the people have learnt to help themselves. People have realized that they must help each other for it actually means helping oneself. In other words that Goodness has a ripple effect. This is why when ( later) a woman who always came forward to help them suffered when her house was burnt down in an accident the foundation helped her rebuilt it. The Mayor works side by side with them, footing some expenses while they chip in the rest.

It is with the help of another expat lady that a group of expatriot wives came to the village and taught the skill of mosaic, sewing, and art decorations to 6 unemployed women in Bercini. These women are exclusively employed now, catering for orders in Romania,( you will find them in Hilton hotel and in café Amsterdam) and to Holland,( in 8 shops) and Denmark, and US. They even make special mementos for co-operations on order. Interestingly, there was a demand in the international community for different kind of costumes for children which was supplied by the cottage industry. As more amd more orders come in, it is hoped that more people will get engaged and so hep themselves. It is also under this programme that they are looking into acquiring land with a grant from the Dutch government for mushroom farming. The produce is expected to sell in the local market and will find employment for some 40 people.

Second Chance found a Dutch friend who has helped them over the years. Several families on her encouragement came by train to live and work with the villagers. They helped put in a small playground and fix the roof on the kindergarten. This built confidence in the people. Incidentally, there was a young girl who had suffered from a crippling disability. Nicolette Mak, the dutch lady helped her get an artificial limb. She can run now. Life holds a different connotation for her.

As for the Senior citizens, in the adjoining village of Corlatesti, with the help of the Mayor and a Church in Switzerland they have set up a meeting room for them. Here they can wile away cheerful hours with friends over a cup of tea and biscuits. Contrary to expectation some eighty people frequent the place in shifts since there is not room enough to accommodate them all at once. Hence the need for a bigger space for which plans are being drawn. The land has been acquired but there is need for more funds to construct the Centre. It is intended to house the Second Chance workshop as well which alone will create 10 more job opportunities.

In order to occupy them productively and build self esteem the elders were given charity clothes to sell. It turned out to be a great idea. Each cleaned and ironed their share of load and collectively they organized a sale. The money they collected was a major boast to their morale. And it was most touching when they all donated a total of a hundred euros for the annual Christmas party.

This selfless giving has been the hall mark of Second Chance right from its conception till this day. Though so much remains to be done, it no longer seems improbable.

A Response

We were in Italy ,when I read some editions of the Daily Telegraph. A particular reflection, titled “Lebanese Despair” by Jonathan Carrick, Bridge of Allan, Stirling, captured my attention. He claims that, “The problem lies in the link between religion and politics in Islam and its ideology of jihad. As Christians, we are taught to turn the other cheek, forgive and love. Islam is about conquering through persuasion or bloodshed; there is no room for other faiths. …” I am intensely perturbed by the fires that are burning in the Muslim world and not for the first time have heard these words. Silence was no longer an option. I needed to reply.


The truth is that there is no compulsion in our way of life. This is simply what the Koran tells us. God seeks purity and sincerity not numbers. Therefore in its essence, Islam believes in inviting, informing, and teaching by practical example. It is a most natural and logical way of life. It tells us to repel evil with good but also allows one to take revenge – only to the extent of the injury.

The Muslims History is full of examples of this tolerant blending of ideologies. For instance, in the case of India, had the Muslims sought to spread Islam by force, the Indian subcontinent, ruled by them for over eight hundred years, would have been a Muslim majority country. It is not! The English could not stay for more than a hundred odd years and never won over the hearts of the people. They always felt superior to the people they ruled. On the other hand, the Muslims intermingled with those they ruled. All were the same in the eyes of Allah as opposed to the caste system that divided man from man because of superiority of birth and clan. During his final sermon, the Prophet PBUH reminded the people that, “There is no superiority for an Arab over a non Arab and for a non Arab over an Arab; nor for white over the black nor for the black over the white except in piety. Verily the noblest among you is he who is the most pious.

A true student of Koran is rid of all prejudice and biases. He hates the sin and never the sinner. He informs but never compels. He looks on all as creatures of the same creator and seeks only to serve. I know this because that is the message of the Book and the life of the Prophet who taught it. Try seeing the world through a child’s eye, my 8 year old son reasons that if Adam was the first man then we all are one family. In our stubborn emphasis on our own superiority of racial, national and religious boundaries, we have relinquished that essential fact.

There is no ambiguity in our way of life. There are differences amongst the followers as in any other religion and when fanned by our ill wishers they do become volatile. The non-muslims have caused more confusion and misinterpretation, just like the aforementioned comment of Mr Jonathan Carrick. Pick up any magazine or newspaper you will find articles that only show their intolerance to other view points. Theirs is the best way of life and that is it. Are you with us or not, is the key question to any opposition. Such ignorant statements can hardly mend hearts.

Koran revealed itself with the injunction, “Read!” It is the pursuit of intellectual and moral perfection and a willingness to adopt each good idea that saw the rise of Islam. This struggle is called Jihad. It is ridiculous that this word is so misunderstood in this super age of information when everything is a click away. It is the very absence of this struggle in our part of the world that is the cause of our humiliation.

Prophet Mohammad PBUH said, “ My cherisher has ordered me nine things: To reverence him externally and internally; to speak true, and with propriety, in prosperity and adversity: moderation in affluence and poverty: to benefit my relations and kindred who do not benefit me: to give alms to him who refuses me: to forgive him who injures me; that my silence should be in attaining knowledge of Allah: and that when I speak, I should mention Him : that when I look on Allah’s creatures, it should be as an example for them.” He advised us to “Be on your guard against committing oppression, for oppression is darkness on the Day of Resurrection, and be on your guard against pettimindedness for pettimindedness destroyed those who were before you, as it incited them to shed blood and make lawful what was unlawful to them” These virtues are the underlining foundations of our way of life.

As a result of this training, Muslims eatablished a new world order where slaves stood shoulder to shoulder with nobility, where women cleared of the original sin were given the rights of inheritance and identity. They led by their power of ideas, discovery and fearlessness. The Renaissance of the West owes to the Muslims. If you do not believe me visit Cordoba and Granada.

Jews were among the most dynamic citizens of Islamic Cordoba, holding important posts in various fields. Intermarriage with the people of the book, religious and ethnic tolerance were established way of life. It was the catholic monarchs in Granada that wanted to “purify the people of Spain.” Jews and then the Muslims were forcibly baptized, but then punished, tortured, and executed if suspected of insincerity to their new faith. Many were exiled. Was this not extremism? Ironically, it is the Jews who were sent to the Ottoman empire that were the most lucky. Sultan Bayezid 11 went to the extent of sarcastically thanking the monarch for” impoverishing his own lands while enriching his.”


We have witnessed the fall of capitalism and we are seeing the tyranny of Capitalism. We are all connected. That was the message of the Tsunami. The response to the disaster showed humanity at its best and what the media can achieve if it really wanted to. Balance will have to be restored only if we all open our minds and sift the truth. It is not difficult to find a solution if we believe that we all are essentially the same.

These children need us…

How many of us can imagine a tragedy that has the power to change our lives completely and forever; one that takes away every shred of comfort and love that we have known, leaves us homeless, at the mercy of strangers, renames us a “Charity Child”. Sitting at the SOS village in Dhodial with the five orphan children that the AISB community sponsored last year in Pakistan after the aftermath of the devastating earthquake, we were faced with the reality of such a tragedy.

My visit to the village this summer, accompanied by an American friend, though unplanned, turned out to be the highlight of our trip. After a short introduction, we were taken around the several compact houses, all fully equipped with a kitchen and a spacious sitting room, which stand side by side. In each house lived several children of varying ages (not all victims of the earthquake) who were looked after by a “house mother”. For the most part, they seemed content. There were soft toys for the children to cuddle and several cards adorning the side shelf in the sitting room. These had been sent by their sponsor families – a tangible and essential link with the outside world that showed them that there were those who cared.

The children share a mutual love of cricket, even the girls .They watch cartoons and Urdu plays. Due to the earthquake, every available room has been utilized. Next to the residential complex is the main SOS Hermann Gmeiner Public School and just adjacent to this is The Hazara University. A vocational centre is on the premises. Here the girls are taught various crafts. Though the work is neat and very intricate, it lacks style and taste. The person in charge asked if we could send samples of work that they could replicate which would improve their chances of being able to sell their work. To give the children vacations, they go on hiking and camping trips to the northern parts of Pakistan.

Among the five sponsored children are three young brothers. The youngest is obviously over the worst, full of smiles. Tears came to our eyes when my friend raised her arms to show him what to do as she wanted to take his measurements and in response, he ran into her arms and held her tight. The older brothers, however seemed cautious and barely spoke a word. Their father is mentally handicapped and their mother had supported the family until her death in the earthquake.

We were particularly inspired by our encounter with the older girls who had been at the SOS for a long time. One of them, Bushra, especially impressed us. She is doing her MBA and has been to Tokyo on a Student Exchange Programme. She has no plans to marry but wants to stay and serve SOS. We took children books for the library and Bushra, asked us if we had any for her age. We had only one but promised to send more.


Another child sponsored is Safeena Khan, a beautiful girl who wore lots of hair clips. Though she still has two brothers and a sister, after her mother’s death, her aunt was unable financially to take them all in. Hence, Safeena was sent to the village to begin a new life. During our visit, she barely spoke and never smiled. I was told it was because the emotional scars were still raw but that time and care would help her heal.

Maria Rasheed is much livelier. Her father had died long before and her mother, having lost her house in the earthquake and faced with increased poverty, sent all except the eldest to the SOS village. It is sad to imagine the circumstances that would have forced this painful decision.

These are the children sponsored by the AISB community. SOS believes their best hopes for a successful recovery and happy future lie in being connected to caring individuals and not an institution. Of course SOS is concerned about who will take on this role after the sponsorship expires in January 2007 and asked what we could do. Thankfully, sponsors for two have already been found but others are needed for the remaining three children. Just as we were leaving, I heard the person in charge of the village turn to the director and say, “God makes ways.” Is any one willing to help? How about you, would you like to make a difference in the lives of these precious children?

It is all there in the Book

By Amina H Syed

“It is said that there is no such thing as coincidence in this world,” says Paulo Coelho in his book, the Pilgrimage. My experiences have proved just that. I joined the Book Club when we were settled in Bucharest. The group was reading “The secret life of the bees” by Sue Monk Kidd. It did not sound exciting – more like a scientific journal. I opened the book and found the beginning of each chapter lined with a researched fact about the honey comb society. Contrary to my expectation, this arrested me for being a student of religion , each and every detail to me was an explanation of the following verse of the Quran, “ And your Lord inspired the bee, saying: “ take you habitations in the mountains and in the trees and in what they erect. “ Then, eat of all fruits, and follow the ways of your lord made easy (for you). There comes forth from their bellies, a drink of varying colour, wherein is healing for men. Verily, in this is indeed a sign for people who think.” Surat Al Nahl (68)

I pondered over each and every intrinsic detail. The life of Lily, the young heroine, is intrinsically connected to the life of the bees. They heal and cure her, physically and emotionally, giving the solace that she seeks so desperately. The wise black August, the Queen Bee, guides all through the course of the story. Her personality and impact is in direct contrast to the self destructive over passionate May and the sullen, hopeless June. Meandering through the course of life with her bee hives and the black Mary, she can stand her ground in the social upheaval that rages around her. The time is the mid 1900 and the age of the civil right laws. “Our lady is not some magical being…. She’s something inside you… You don’t have to put your hand on Mary’s heart to get strength, consolation and rescue, and all the other we need to get through life. You can place it right here on your own heart. Your own heart.”

I arrived in London on the day of the bombing – 7/7. We stood at immigration when the officer warned us not to go to central London as there had been several explosions. I have had enough of the violence and bloodshed all over the world. Muslims and non Muslims both are at it, heaping blame on each other but in reality no one is better than the other. In my frustration I had echoed Lily’s words, “Make the world better. Take meanness out of people’s hearts.’ We were on holiday and rather cruelly shunned all news during the two weeks we were there. We were at an English friend’s house when in the course of our conversation I suddenly remembered to ask, if the criminals had been caught. It was an awkward moment as my friend, rather embarrassed said they were British Pakistani’s. We groaned out aloud. What could have made them commit such a crime? In my opinion, the British also need to ask themselves this question. They may have Pakistani parents but they were essentially British. The abusive connotations in the one word “ Paki” opens an entire discourse.

The secret life of the bees opens up the entire subject of racial prejudice. As I walked down the streets of England, I was overwhelmed with the consciousness of being Pakistani. I have never ever felt insecure about my identity even when the green passport merits detailed scrutiny. I thought I read quiet censor in people’s eyes. The newspapers flashed the name of Pakistan, and the faces of the mullahs. I felt self conscious and ashamed. “I wished they had been “more cultured.” My thoughts resonated on the pattern of Lily. Custodian of the ultimate Book of Truth, we have failed to live by its wisdom. Therefore our words sound hollow. The world is looking for answers but they never hope to find them with us.

The words of Zach, the black boy in the book, “I don’t know if I’ll have much of a future …. I’m a negro” turned my thoughts towards my children. Their innocence is marred by prejudice. And now a year later with the recent foiled attempt at kidnapping, the Muslim boys are being targeted as the source of all terrorism. My young nephew came to Bucharest for a visit and was made to step out of line. Another was detained while returning from Canada and lost his connection. Our kids are clean but nothing makes sense any more. Soldiers blowing whistles on comrades especially in Iraq reveal that they will attack at whim. The law has given them power to do anything. What can one do, is a question that perhaps Muslims all over the world are asking themselves.

“You can’t be a true bee keeper without getting stung….Regrets don’t help anything,” says the wise August. “There’s a fullness of time for things,.. You have to know when to prod and when to be quiet, when to let things take their course.” Reaction must be controlled and inner strengths developed. On my return to Romania, I met with some awkward experiences. I went with a friend to the famous palace in Bucharest only to be singled out for a detailed scrutiny of my passport (which luckily I had on me) because I happened to have my head covered. Then, a visiting friend who left alone for Budapest was targeted by the immigration officials on the train journey. They harassed her till she was forced to let go of some money because she had a “problem passport.”

It would be easy to show reaction but the need is to ask where we have gone wrong. Propaganda against us is important to understand but counteracting it by a sustained, planned, non reactive but enlightened approach is imperative. The first step is some soul searching – starting today. “The hardest thing on earth is choosing what matters,” says August to the young Lily. The natural catastrophes all over the world are enough evidence that the soul searching is not only for the Muslims. In the words of a Romanian, it seems “God is angry with us.”

The grandeur of Muslims are recorded in the annals of history, so what happened to us? In the example of the bees lies the secret of a successful life. “It takes honey bee workers ten million foraging trips to gather enough nectar to make one pound of honey.( Bees of the world)’ ‘A bees life is but short…. a worker bee, as a rule, does not live more than four or five weeks…( The Dancing bees).” “The main thing is that they are hardworking to the point of killing themselves. Sometimes you want to say to them , Relax, take some time off, you deserve it.” This feverish activity, it must be noted is not for personal gain alone but also a kind of selfless giving. Each bee produces a few drops of honey in her limited lifetime, whose benefits for us are detailed in the book. It is this struggle that is the true meaning of the most abused concept of Jihad. It actually means the struggle to better oneself and ones society, intellectually and morally towards perfection.

Suicide bombing does not have its origin in Islam. Islam has no tolerance for suicide. However it shows an extreme frustration of people who have been pushed out of their land, fighting an unequal war with stones counteracting sophisticated weapons. According to Robert A. Pape, in the course of his research for a book on suicide attackers, he had found that of the 38 bombers that they identified only eight were Islamic fundamentalists and three were even Christians, the rest belonged to leftist political groups. He says that, “What these suicide attackers – and their heirs today – shared was not a religious or political ideology but simply a commitment to resisting a foreign occupation.”

Chaim Potok, author of the Book, The Chosen that explained to me what is meant by jihad. The learned professor in the book says to his son, “We live less than the time it takes to blink an eye, if we measure our lives against eternity…. A span of life is nothing. But the man who lives that span, he is something. He can fill that tiny span with meaning, so its quality is immeasurable though its quantity may be insignificant. A man must fill his life with meaning; meaning is not automatically given to life. It is hard work to fill one’s life with meaning.”

Coming to Bucharest has been an enlightening experience. It has closely acquainted me to a microcosm of the world, multi religions, cultures and traditions. It has reinforced my belief that people are essentially good everywhere. They are also essentially the same. The tolerance and understanding that underlines expatriate relationships is the missing ingredient of the peace process. Having lived it, one becomes a global citizen.

On the day that we met with each other to discuss the book, “the secret life of the bees,” I listened to the others. None had related to it as I did. I was reluctant to share my views but remembered a friend's encouraging words that a diversity of cultures ensured a challenging discussion. I took heart and said my piece. “The whole fabric of the honey bee society depends on communication – on an innate ability to send and receive messages, to encode and decode information – (the Honey Bee)”

It is time we reached out to others. In the words of my English friend, why don’t the Pakistani’s protest against the belittling propaganda against them? Why do they not seek to remove misunderstandings and project a soft image. We must wake up from the stupor that grips us. As another person said, “our silence is deadly.”