I was telling BB-Aisha that they just come to me…I don’t know how or why. I don’t know how I attract them or how do they know they should speak to me since I’m hardly the poster woman and would definitely be the most unlikely candidate if given a chance… but they do, they always come to me. Not that I’m complaining. But I'm getting ahead of myself...let me rewind a little…
The day itself was a hectic one. I’m on a tight schedule these days and I don’t have time to worry about the finer details of my wardrobe and hair. So being the hypocrite that I sometimes am, I donned a Kurta and a headscarf…that way I didn’t have to look for something comfortable to wear, and I didn’t have to do my long, sometimes annoying hair either.
I left work early to go to the dealer and have my tyres replaced with new ones and was standing in the lot completely idle…watching as they worked. I soon got thirsty and decided to step inside to get some water. Now for those who have ever wondered where the white people in South Africa have gone to, go and step into this “office”. This is where all the billing, phone calls and appointments are made. And there are only white females working here…around 10 of them. I asked for some water and was just about to pay the bill when in swept the Indian version of Don Juan…on his black stallion…no really it was a black BMW…one of the latest models, very nice. This chap was kinda handsome looking, in his mid to late 20’s…either way, he could not have been older than 30. He was holding a bunch of flowers addressed to “Yolandi”.
My jaw dropped. He obviously wasn’t the courier…judging from the stallion, so surprising his girlfriend maybe? Who knows? She was very happy I must say, but then again which sucker of a woman wouldn’t be? I was mildly disturbed by this occurrence because a few weeks ago Taz and I were discussing why Muslim Indian guys go for white girls. Taz was sure it’s because they put out. But come on, flowers?!?
It got me thinking about Zaida…a friend from Madressa. This woman is close to perfect. She’s educated, she works from home, she’s attractive, she’s active in her deen, and she’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. But she’s still single, nearing 28. No ones buying her flowers! Maybe it’s because she’s not white with blonde hair and dressed provocatively. And I can bet anyone that she would be 1000 times better as a partner to Don Juan than Yolandi could ever dream to be.
I was disgusted, appalled and perturbed with the whole situation and went back outside to watch Temba, Sello and David at work. I heard them talking in Sotho when Temba approached me and said that he loves my religion. I was taken aback…where did that come from? Then he proceeded to explain to me that he watches the Muslims and that he loves how we adhere to the Islamic laws and principals without changing the religion. He mentioned that the Christians often make fun of Jesus, to them there are any aspects of the religion that they do not take seriously…and that he saw that the Muslims were the first to step forward to complain about the jokes made in Jesus’ name. He also mentioned something about marriage and women in Islam.
I then explained to Temba that the cornerstone of Islam is respect and peace. We are supposed to respect each other and not judge. I told him that Jesus is our prophet too, and for us to sit back and not fight sacrilege and blasphemy is a sin in itself. I explained to him that in Islam, men and women are equal, but they have different roles and that they are supposed to respect each other in their respective roles….really when I get started, I can go on and on and on…as most bloggers know by now. I can become very passionate in what I believe in…I go into a different mode. I don’t even recognise myself.
When I eventually stopped, they all looked at me mesmerised. I saw three pairs of moist, sparkling eyes looking at me in awe and respect. I just delivered another one of my Dawah sermons without any intention of doing so and Temba told me that I have moved his soul and that they would be keen to learn more. I said that I was glad that I could give them some insight and that I would refer them to someone who could help them further.
While I was preaching to these three guys, I thought of Don Juan. I thought of the message I was giving to Temba, Sello and David after just witnessing the Don on one of his escapades. I thought it is so ironic, preaching the perfection of the deen to some very enthusiastic and eager gentlemen; calling people to the deen when we ourselves are so flawed, tarnished, damaged. How would I ever explain to them that the problem with society is not religion, it’s the people? Regardless of my thoughts, I did not add any additional spices to the story. I couldn’t help feeling like a fraud, as I always do when I’m approached by them. Like I said I don’t know why they choose me, I’m really the last person on earth to be any kind of example.
As for Don Juan, I will not judge him. I chose to believe that he was making a delivery…on behalf of who is none of my business and makes no difference to my life. As people we have too many expectations from others and when they don’t live up to those expectations we are disappointed and disillusioned. I’ve always maintained that I’m far from perfect. So why do I still expect everyone else to be flawless?
Maybe I'm just the moron and this is all a dream :)