was God He or She, Mom? Short Story!
Hasan Yahya, Ph.D
“If dignity, respect and love were lost among people, they lost.”(the Author)
A boy in his early life, experienced this story. Now he is a grown man, with a prestigious position in the government. His story may be philosophical or cultural or knowledge based story. It might happened to many people in different forms, but describe the village life for the disadvantaged cultural traits, rumors and lies. The story reads.
I am in the process of serious thinking in this stage of my life. My mind is pregnant with millions of ideas. The first of them to kill my self. But that idea does not fit me as an intellectual person. The other idea is to attack my own religion as the cause of the Muslim observed disunity and injustices cover all Muslim peoples, but that idea will not satisfy the purpose or my attention to solve the problems beset the Muslim nations. The Third idea is to write my opinion attacking religions in general and say to God farewell forever. But that idea instead of bring peace to mind it will create an awkward situation among the close relatives who respected me all these years.. A fourth idea is to find out about this terrible situation of one selection of these ideas previously mentioned.
After a moment of relaxing and thinking of these ideas it came to me the idea of this book. My argument with myself to excute the first idea was ignored, loosing life will bring sorrow to those I love and who loved me. To attack Islamic religion means to abandon that great religion without a logical reason. Attacking Qur’an as having errors in terms of collection or meaning or contradictions on the one hand, and attacking the Prophet of Islam for human errors made by him or his close companions (Sahabah) on the other will have no significance, Islam is an idea followed by billions. There will be no significace of attacking a great religion like Islam as a final religion completes previous religions. I think leaving one’s belief is worse than anything else in life, it is a personal as well as an intellectual disastor to end life with a scandle no one will sympathize with the attacker. Islam is much greater than its followers, if Muslims are backward people in modern times, we have to expect that they will take their position on the historical cycle to lead the world civilization as they did before. Thie time will come. The third idea about attacking religions in general was also a negative idea does not fit in my mind. Therfore I replaced it by two question and work to answer them: What brings religions together? And What’s common between religions as God’s religions? These questions are worthwhile to be answered in order to bring peace to this world, furthermore, the idea fits logically an intellectual person in my position. The fourth idea is may be the useful choice for myself as an intelectual and as a human being stamped with physical and spiritual limiteation in terms of elderness and humanness cannot create himself without help from GOD.
Perhaps it is time to start taking the question: Was God-She or He, seriously to prove an intellectual thought that God have resigned long time ago. I guess! To convince myself, God assigned Himself to watch how his creations are doing? How they act negatively or positively toward His Supremacy and Bounties? But this question belong to the third idea. Which I rejected. Early in my life I knew God. He is merciful, magnificent, lives alone forever, he lives everywhere, he lives in the sky, he lives on earth, he lives in caves, on the mountains, he doesn’t sleep, he has the power to do whatever he wishes. He gives life and takes it back as he wishes. He’s God, any good quality comes to mind, it is a quality of Him. When I go to sleep I have to remember him, when I eat I have to call his name for blessing my food, when I play I have to remember him, when I get married he has to agree on Marriage contract, if I want divorce of my spouse, or vise versa he has to witness the seclusion of us. If I have sex he has to watch in my bedroom. And I have to remember him and call his beautiful names, the Merciful, the Magnificent, Allah, to bless my begotten children. If I go to the path room, he sees me, not important if you don’t see him, he sees you for sure. If you call him, he will immediately come to your help. He is taking care of All people, not only you. He takes care of plants, stars, and animals. Everything on earth or above the earth, he takes care of. The winds, the weather, the oceans, anything comes to mind, he is responsible for it. He dousn’t sleep or even close his eyes. Because if he does, the world will collapse. He crucified himself to save you, he chose his people and promise them with land spaces to live or magical spaces in Heaven. And has Hill too like county prisons. But wider and warmer. He has too many hands, he has too many heads with brains know every thing. He is the knower, he controls the moon, the sun, and the seven skies. He is the giver, he is the forgiver, he is the wide open, he is the sustainer, he is the first, and he is the last. All these qualities and bounties I was told when I was naïve in my childhood. When I see others have much more than me, or smarter than me, I ask my mom, if God is the giver, and he is just, and deal with all on equal basis, why he gives someone more and give me less? Why he killed babies after birth, or later on time. Why? Why? Why? Where the simple questions comes out after any act or behavior. My mother used to say: Don’t ask these questions? You become Kafir (disbeliever). It’s God’s Wish. He doesn’t want us to have. It is his wish. He created us to live this life, and die to go to Paradise After Yowm al-Qiyama (Day of Judgment) Sometimes she cannot answer certain questions she resigned by saying: When you get old, you will know? How old Mom? Old, twenty years or so, when you become a man. I felt afraid to know that God has Hill, but felt optimist that he had Heaven too. Is it my choice to go to Heaven Mom? Mom did not answer. Is it my choice to go to Hell Mom? Mom did not answer. My dad came late in the evening and we sat together on the ground around a simple dish full of lentils and garlic.
The above questions and Millions of other questions were roving around in my mind all my life. My mother told my dad. One day he took my hand and said: let’s go for a walk. After few minutes riding our donkey ass, and dad walking along the way I asked him: where are we going? You will know in a moment. I was eight years old, I began to think of some thing to eat, like Ice cream, or banana because I was always see other children have it, and never I was able to have some. Few minutes later we approached a the village Mosque (al-Jami’), the sheikh received us with his smile, but his beard was too long, and pushy made me feel frightened. In his hand a black rosary, and have a long white dress with a large black cover on his shoulder called: Abah or Abaya to give him more respect when he walks or breaches. What’s brought you here this time? You must have a reason, it’s early to pray. My dad shake hands with the sheikh, and followed him doing the same as he did. Both put their hands on their chest after shaking hands. I did not. The sheikh noticed and horridly said. Youngman, you should put your hand on your chest. With my innocence I asked? Why? The sheikh said: Because by doing this God will be pleased. And he will give you his blessings. I did not understand the relationship between human actions and God blessing. My dad and the sheikh sat down on the floor , there was a room not so wide, but it’s surely wider than our whole house. My dad asked me to set aside, he wanted to talk to the sheikh privately. I sat far away in on corner, and tried to listen to their talk. But they were whispering, but I heard my name mentioned several times. After two minutes, they both gave a sign to join them. My dad’ face was smiling, the shiekh’s face was not showing the same smile as dad. Sit here, the sheikh said. I sat in front of him, we made a triangle in three points. The sheikh said: You want to know about God, ya Salamah? I said: Yes. Is God He or She, Shiekh? The sheikh opened his eyes wide, raised his eyebrow up, and closed his large lips. He looked as Qunfuth (Hedgehog) with his pushy beard. Don’t be Kafir, son. These questions cannot be asked, because God will be angry with you. What he will do? I said naively. I felt my dad’s hand lies on my neck like lightening, it made me shake in my position to the ground. He wanted to satisfy the sheikh, or may be he wanted to satisfy God Himself! The sheikh hold me back to my position and began to recite al-Fatiha and touch my head and shoulder. I was crying, I was not listening. I felt afraid, but I did not feel defeated. He recited another surah from Qur’an to calm me down, as if I made a big mistake. Or a Jin rides over my head or got to my brain. Minutes passed, my dad thanked the sheikh. I heard the sheikh saying, bring him on Friday, I will have something for him. We will talk later. Let me prepare for Asr (afternoon) prayer.
Returning to my home, Mom started to ask: heh, what happened? Nothing, He said with angry voice. Mom insisted to know what happened. My dad asked me to go out to play with the kids. Afterwhile, I saw my dad going to the village Mosque to perform Asr prayer. He asked me to accompany him. He did not expect my refusal. With his hand on my nick as lightening I have no choice to insist on my wish to stay away from the Mosque. The Mosque as I said earlier, was a large place, with larger door and wider windows than our home. The mini minaret was very high when I look up from the ground. The Athan (call for prayer) was voiced out, everyone in the village usually hears the call. People walk to the Mosque, they pray, two rak’ahs greeting the mosque, then four Rak’ahs the obligation of Asr prayer. No voluntary raka’hs for the Prophet on Salat al-Asr.
A scandle was announced in the village, that I was questioning whither God was a he or she. The people began to laugh when they see me. The first time I heard the word: Majnoon. (crazy, or fool). I began to return home every day crying, because the kids did not want to play with me. Their parents told them that Salamah is crazy, don’t play with him. He’s Majnoon. If you play with him, he will spoil you. Neglected, I became inferior to the whole community. My reaction was showing in fighting. In the school, no day I was without tardy. I go later than other kids to my home.
On Friday, My dad took me to meet the sheikh. He was preparing a small triangle paper flapped and hand it to my dad. This will cure him. Insha’allah. Let him read Qur’an everyday.
Qur’an had a great position in my heart. I read it, recite it, and know it by heart in two years. I became honorable among kids to remember Qur’an’s Suras ahead of my peers. I was recognized as at least not Majnoon as before, but respected in the small community. My neighbors had a two sons and one daughter, she was in my age, we used to meet helping each other in our home work. Our parents leave us alone to finish our home work. Day by day, Samah, (the girl’s name) began to ask strange questions. I felt embarrassed first, then we began to show each other what we have under our bellies. I don’t know what made us take off our dresses and get totally naked. We began to touch each other and began to measure our gentles. Then we began to feel good when we embrace each other. More than three weeks, and we do our daily homework whenever time and empty place permit. We were 12 years old. I began to touch her, and she began to touch mine. We slept side by side, innocent (boy and girl) naked on the mattress on the floor. We were caught on that way, just touching each other. The daughter’s Mom who came to ask about my mom have seen it all, she was stupid enough to tell her husband. Samah’s Dad, who came with his angry voice threatened to kill me after we heard that he killed his twelve years daughter to save his injured honor. This story in the village was told by the young and old, the male and female. Two weeks later, the boy’s family left the village to a far –far-away place, called the city, a place much more worse than the village! www.hasanyahya.com
Tags: Religion, short stories, philosophy, imagination, folk culture, ignorance, romers.