Those were indeed the good old days

                                                 Picture courtesy Power your city website

During my childhood years I use to spend most of my vacations at my maternal grandparents home. The festive cheer during the December month definitely transcended into our home as well. Nana and his friend, the late Uncle Ebrahim Bhika use to drive my brother and I down town Johannesburg to take a ride on the famous topless bus to see the Christmas lights. There was never a December that went by without taking a picture with Santa Claus. To appease one of my crossy face episodes, I recall Nana purchasing a talking and singing Christmas father toy for me as a gift. It subsequently suffered a horrible death as it went flying down the flat window accidentally. Nana and Nani resided in Wynberg, a suburb that bordered Alexandra township. Whilst many viewed the area as being notorious and dangerous, for us it was home. Mom’s family resided in a small one and a half bedroom flat. The lounge area had a few arm chairs and a couch that could open up into a bed as well. Both the lounge and the master bedroom had entrances into the cosy kitchen. There was a small pantry adjacent to the coal stove. Whilst the master bedroom had an ensuite bathroom, the toilet was located outside in between two flat units. The neighbours had to share a communal toilet and mind you waking up at night to go to the toilet was actually a terrifying experience for a kid even though the main gate at the bottom was always kept locked with a chain. Despite my grandparents home being small it was always a place of love and laughter. No one went to bed hungry. During the day, Nanis neighbour, Kajja bhai use to spoil me with garam garam sugar roti. May God Almighty grant her the highest stages of paradise. The people of that time had little but they were content. They appreciated the smaller, finer things in life. As the years went by, my grandparents moved to Marlboro as the flat they were residing in was going to be demolished. Naturally, there was huge excitement when they moved into their new home. During this time of the year, nana would take us for a walk in Joubert Park. On other days, we would take a drive to Johannesburg’s Lilliputian wonder, Santarama miniland. We were welcomed by a giant statue of Jan Van Riebeeck and definitely enjoyed boarding the full scale model of his ship, the Dromedaris. With smiles and laughter we ogled at the miniature models of prominent city landmarks. No festive season was complete without visiting the musical fountains at Wemmer Pan. So what has happened to these iconic places? From what I heard, these places have been neglected and totally run down. Many visitors have also been robbed and mugged at knife point. The city of Johannesburg needs to revive these places especially now over the festive season. I am not a person who goes crazy over firework displays but I do recall Uncle Ebrahim visiting Nana's home during the festive season with a big box of fireworks that he would light for us. Believe it or not we all use to enjoy the classic Boney M Christmas carols. In fact, my colleague and I had a big laugh this week trying to recall some of the lyrics. This is how I reminisce about the festive season during my childhood. It never made me any less of a Muslim and neither did I change my faith of birth. It simply made me more aware and more understanding towards other people’s culture, faith and tradition. Those were indeed the good old days!

Letter from a prisoner - Jingle bells

As the world gets ready for the festive season, so too do those behind bars. The festive season may be the best time of the year for most; but for prisoners, it is the worst time of the year. 

From the start of December to mid-January; prisons, nationally, run a program known as "Operation Vala." "Vala" literally means to close or lock. In context, it simply means that nothing but essential services occur within the prisons. 

During this period, the prison bells jingle much earlier than they normally do. Prisoners are locked up by noon, instead of the usual 14:30 or even later at some facilities. This means that prisoners are locked in their cells for around 20 hours a day. Wardens thus do not even work for half a day for over a month, not that they do much anyways.

Programs that usually run within the prison come to a halt, the parole board closes, social workers and psychologists are unavailable and even the doctor and dentist do not consult during this period. Unless an inmate is suffering from a , visible, life or death condition; no treatment will be available. One has to just pray that one does not get ill or for a tooth to act up. 

As many people receive bonuses at work, inmates generally receive more visits than usual during this time. Visits are one of the few things  that inmates really look forward to but during this period, even visits leave a bitter taste. Many inmates only see their families from rural areas during the festive season but due to the shutdown of services, requests to receive items from home are not processed timeously; resulting in inmates being unable to receive items such as underwear, shoes or bedding from loved ones. The increase in visitors also results in the visit time being curtailed and  the prison kiosk running out of stock. The prison kiosk also takes advantage of their monopoly by not getting caught up in the festive sales but instead increase their prices.

The worst part about this time of the year is not the physical changes that occur but the battles that inmates have to fight within their minds. Personally, I have always found it tough to not reminisce over the good times I have had during the holidays in the past. Speaking to family and friends, it is always nice to learn of their adventures but one cannot help but feel saddened at the same time. 

To mitigate the effects of the festive season, inmates take greater risk in trying to obtain cellular phones, drugs and alcohol.  This is exacerbated by the fact that wardens are looking to make extra money for their celebrations and thus bring in more contraband than usual. The really desperate wardens will bring in a phone for an inmate and then get a colleague to search the same inmate a few days later. If the phone is found, it is subsequently re-sold to another inmate. 

Those without the outside support to buy illegal items come up with plans to add some merry to their festive season. Homemade beer is brewed by some inmates and then sold to others. A brew is made using water, old bread and rotting fruit. The mixture is made in buckets and left to ferment for as long as possible. Those with tailoring skills spend the extra hours in the cell by transforming prison uniforms, by hand,  into more trendy styles seen in magazines. "Designer," prison uniforms are then sold for R200.00, for a set. The artistic inmates create greeting cards, gift bags, jewelry boxes, paintings and ornaments from whatever scraps they can find within the prison. Items are sold to fellow inmates who then gift the items to their visitors. 

As a Muslim, this time of the year is very frustrating. Muslim and other non-Christian spiritual care workers are not allowed into the prison due to the lock-down, yet Christian inmates have more services than normal with their volunteers coming inside in greater numbers than during the course of the year. Every Friday, it is a fight with management to even get to pray jummuah. One of the things I do admire about the Christians over this time of the year is that they will arrange parcels for all of the inmates who do not receive visits. 

All in all though, the festive season does signify that another year of my sentence is coming to a close. For that and the fact that I do not have to endure repetitive Christmas carols by agonizing non singing voices, I too have reason to be merry. 

Incredible India - My journey part 1

October 4th 2017

As a child I never quite envisaged visiting so many countries and meeting different people throughout the world. God has undoubtedly been good to me. I couldn't thank Him enough for all the bounties He has blessed me with. Many great authors and poets have written about the beauty of Kashmir and so it has always been my dream destination. We left SA on Monday on board Emirates. I noticed significant changes at OR TAMBO in terms of security checks but it still does not compare to the airport security in Dubai as well as in India. In India only passengers are allowed inside the airport. In SA every Tom Dick and Harry are allowed inside the airport. Whilst waiting to board our connecting flight to New Delhi we became acquainted with some of the passengers in the waiting area. There was an elderly Sikh couple that truly inspired me. They were returning from a 3 week vacation in Europe. They were quite proud to tell us that despite being elderly they explored 6 countries with ease. The upright, neatly dressed Sikh gentleman is 75 years old and his other half is 65 years old. They were a cute, jovial couple. As the conversation ensued more passengers started joining in until it was time to board our connecting flight. Arriving at Indira Gandhi international airport, I was taken a back at the progress and development I witnessed. India has certainly changed in the last 17 years since I visited. The change is evident in all sectors. We were welcomed at the airport with smiles and warmth. The airport personnel were friendly and obliging especially the staff stationed at the e-visa counter. After collecting our luggage we were greeted by Arshad from Mantana travel and tours. We have been putting this trip together for a few weeks now through email and whatsapp and so finally meeting him in person was pretty awesome. His arrangements thus far have been excellent. We made our way to the opulent Suryaa hotel driving through Delhi's horrendous traffic whilst listening to the sound of Bhangra music. It made us wanna stamp our feet and clap our hands. A lot has changed in New Delhi but the driving culture certainly hasn't. I don't think I'd be able to drive in India. There is a strange driving culture here where cars do not keep in their own lane.People drive haphazardly whilst hooting and honking away. I would call it an organized chaos.Ironically, the accident rate is minimal.We were given a grand welcome at the hotel in line with Indian hospitality. My brother Zillurrahman who resides in Bihar came all the way to spend the day with us. Once we checked in and got all comfortable we went out to Al Bake restaurant located at New friends colony. The food was absolutely delicious. We devoured the mince shorma, seekh kebaab and tandoori chicken. The garlic naan was undoubtedly the best I've ever eaten. After lunch I wanted to meet my papaji. I7 years ago I was literally adopted by a Kashmiri shop owner. My dad and I were having a petty argument about which items of clothing i should purchase.Papaji intervened telling my dad that he shouldn't be arguing with me. Then he said that he only has sons and no daughters. So he asked dad if he could adopt me. He landed up giving me all the items of clothing that I had chosen free of charge. I was totally shocked. I knew the value of the garments as they were made from silk and on top of it hand embroidered.Meeting him yesterday after 17 years was definitely an emotional experience. He managed to maintain the bond for almost 2 decades.Just like the first time we met,I left papajis shop with bags of clothing. Arshad was kind enough to give us a mini city tour.We took a drive past the lotus temple, Humayuns tomb that is currently under construction, gateway of India, parliament house etc. Poor Arshad drove us with a smile from one end of Delhi to the other. As the day came to an end we headed back to the hotel. After freshening up it was time to attend a dinner function in our honour at Zillurrahmans extended families home. I was quite surprised to learn that the family moved from Bihar to Delhi in order to educate their 4 girls. They desire to become doctors. India has progressed in all sectors whilst we back home are regressing. All around us we noticed construction and development. However, the one thing that hasn't changed is a man's attitude towards a woman. Not all men but many men felt that it was quite alright to stare as though they were undressing us with their eyes. Hence Arshad accompanied us all over the city. As we meandered through gulleys and alleys amidst a cacophony of sound I couldn't help but notice various groups of people.. I noticed super rich snotty individuals in posh cars taking advantage of their drivers and maids. By the way not all rich people here treat their employees badly. It's not fair to generalise. Then I noticed the working middle class trying to make ends meet and of course how could I not notice the extreme poverty and slums in which thousands of people reside in.My heart broke. I was warned though not to give anyone money. Whilst there are genuine poverty stricken people residing in the city, there are also syndicates who use children to beg at traffic signals. They deliberately amputate their arms and legs so that the public would feel sorry for them and hence they can derive more revenue. On the political front we heard mixed reactions about the current leadership. Whilst many praised the Modi administration many were disgruntled especially with regards to the 28 percent gst.Many however sang praises for the previous prime minister Manmohan Singh and president Abdul kalaam. Under their leadership India showed a GDP of 60 percent and over whereas the GDP has dropped significantly under the current leadership. One Sikh gentleman made me laugh when he said that JZ and Modi are both the same. They both all words but no action. Under Manmohan Singhs leadership a 10 percent tax was proposed. Modi at the time was a part of the opposition. They threatened to burn india down. Now he imposed a tax that is way more than 10 percent. This morning we flew out to srinagar. We did however encounter hiccups at the airport. All domestic flights only allow 15kg of luggage per person. So even though Emirates allows you 2 by 23 kg bags when entering India, internal flights only accommodates 15kg. This is absolutely ridiculous. It's almost as though India is saying we don't want foreigners to spend money in the country or we don't want foreigners to support local artists and craftsman as the luggage quota for internal flights is minimal. So you either pay for the excess weight and carry on or you keep your extra luggage with friends. We stopped at Jammu to drop off passengers. We waited in the plane for one and a half hours before we took off again due to technical difficulties.Eventually we arrived in Srinagar. After completing the formalities Rasheed bhai whisked us away to our 7 star houseboat. I was a bit shocked at the huge presence of military personnel all around us. In fact no photography is allowed at the Jammu and srinagar airport as they are considered defence airports and hence they are a part of the military.We received a grand welcome at the HB montana houseboat and lunch was ready for us. The food here is divine... Totally out of this world. After lunch we took a stroll in the botanical gardens. Words can not describe the beauty of the place. I felt relaxed. I felt alive breathing in the fresh crisp mountain air. The best thing about India and kashmir is the minimal crime rate. Whilst petty theft does occur due to poverty and honour killing happen in villages due to family feuds, in general no one kills a person for a cellphone or for 50 rupees.I feel free as a bird. We noticed vans laden with goods parked on the side of the road. The driver didn't close the windows and neither were the doors locked.One more thing..many people discouraged us from staying in the houseboat. Don't ever listen to people. Anyone can stay in a hotel but the houseboat experience will remain with me forever. Time for dinner.... ma'am Sahiba dinner tayyaar hai. Jaldi aajao.......

Letter from a prisoner - A man in a man's world

                                                               

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I was married for just over 6 years and my marriage ended terribly. I also witnessed my parents marriage go horribly wrong and end in the most tragic of ways. I also witnessed the marriage of an elderly couple I care for dearly, end with the man hanging himself. 

Over the past month or so, I have been in touch with family and friends who have been sharing their marital or relationship problems with me.

Recently, a lady who I consider my sister was told by her husband that, after bearing him two beautiful sons, that she is gone too fat. He does not love her anymore and wants out. 

In another instance, a friend confided in me about how her ex-husband used to sexually force himself on her during his drug induced highs; albeit that he needed to inject himself in order to obtain an erection. 

Yet another friend was left high and dry by her husband when it transpired that she had breast cancer. A few years on, and he has not paid any maintenance for the 4 kids they share. 

My single friends have a plethora of tales of all the seemingly ludicrous things men want from a potential marriage. Men seem to think that they are entitled to dictate terms to potential spouses. They are not shy to set rules as to how their woman must dress, cook, behave, work or more likely not work, interact with family and friends; and such it seems as though men truly believe they live in a mans world.

This exposure definitely does not qualify me as an expert on the matter but it has given me a newfound appreciation for relationships. On a more personal level, it has made me question the man that I am, the man I was in my marriage and the partner I seek to be in the future. 

Am I too soft? Am I too romantic? Am I too selfless? Am I a pushover? Am I a man?

This train of thought may seem ironic coming from a person who has to be a man every single moment in order to survive my current environment of prison, but I cannot help but be intruiged by the attitudes of men that is seen as acceptable. 

In Indian South African homes, it is expected by the man and society that the wife will cook and take care of the house. By the time the husband returns from home, the house should be flawless and a sumptuous meal should be awating his arrival. My childhood home was this way too. Yet in my marriage it was the complete opposite. I would get home from work and prepare supper, which would be ready by the time my ex got home from the gym. I would then prepare and pack our lunches for the next day. Cleaning the house was left to the domestic worker. On weekends or when she felt like it, my ex would cook or bake. I did not mind cooking daily and saw nothing wrong with how we lived. Yet I know to most this arrangement will seem just plain wrong. Why though? Why is it wrong for a man to cook for his wife or family? By the way, I am now a qualified chef, is that not more reason for why I should cook when it is a passion of mine? If my partner isn't into cooking as much as I am, should I still "man up" and order that she cooks? Does cooking for your husband make one a better wife? 

I guess with my ex, a lot of it came down to her working and studying at the same time; which brings me to another sore subject. When it comes to women working, men get very insecure. Men seem to think that their wife having a more successful career than them or God forbid earning more than them equates to instant emasculation. Suddenly, men become all pious and say that a woman should not work; but such hypocricy is exposed easily. At this point I will probably be labelled as modernist or worse, when in actual fact I am very old school in the respect that I do believe that it is a mans job to provide for his wife and family. Make no mistake, I do not for a moment see myself as a "house husband," I simply feel that if so many women across the world can work and take care of their homes, then why can a man not do the same? Why should a woman only labour for love? 

Having a job or career brings about self-fulfillment that no man can give his spouse. Why then deny the one, you supposedly love more than anyone else, this opportunity at self-fulfillment?

When Indian men date women, then they are happy to be seen with a woman who shows off her figure and dresses modernly. Yet the same men want a wife who meets their criterion of modesty. Again, such hypocricy. Yes, as a Muslim man I would like my future wife to guide me towards jannah; but it is just as much my responsibility to do the same. The way in which it is done though is what bothers me. To the rest of the world, a man will be kind, sweet and gentle; but when it comes to his spouse he is harsh and abrupt. The very same men who will say they are doing their religious duty by being the man of the house fail to realise that kindness towards a spouse is also a Sunnah. 

As a prisoner, I have lost pretty much everything  that was dear to me. I miss a lot of it but the one thing that I miss more than anything else is love and companionship. Treasure the love and companion you have for love truly is life. 

From Wow to Super Wow

I am pleased, humbled and honoured to receive this prestigious award .I have always admired the efforts of the Women of Wonder campaign and that makes this award all the more special. 

I would like to firstly thank my Creator for blessing me in abundance. 

My heartfelt thanks to the hosts, sponsors, organizers and attendees of this prestigious event. I wish you further success and that this event grows from strength to strength. 

Thanks to my late grandparents, who through their example; defined what hard work, dedication and selflessness meant.  Their lessons have been and will always be a source of inspiration. 

Thank you to the rest of my family for supporting me and helping me through this journey called life. Thank you to my staff for their hard work, perseverance, dedication and outstanding character displayed towards all our patients. Without them, Medix pharmacy will be non-existent. 

Lastly and most importantly; I would not be standing where I am if it were not for the unwavering and infinite support of my amazing parents. I have never taken compliments to heart, because all of them actually belong to you both. You sacrificed your own happiness, just so that I could be happy and live my dreams. I hope to always make you smile, thank you.

As we celebrate and recognize the success of women, let us also reflect on what defines success. I will leave you with beautiful words on success that resonates within me, by Ralph Waldo Emerson: 

What is success?

To laugh often and much,

to win the respect of elders and the affection of children, 

to leave the world a better place,

to know even one life has breathed easier because of you,

this is to have succeeded. 

Whilst the event was superbly organised in terms of decor, food and entertainment, in all fairness I also need to be critical of a few underlying flaws that I noticed. I trust and hope that the organizers of the event will take note of the constructive criticism as there is always room for improvement in any business or organization. I am a person who always speaks my mind and my heart. I am always true to myself. I do not mean to offend anyone. Please forgive me if I have.

Firstly, I was quite aghast at the fact that the guest speaker was a recipient of the award last year. This year she received the award once again. In fact there were a few women who received the award last year and then again this year. My heartiest congratulations goes out to all of them. They are truly an inspiration to many. However, with the Interpol ambassador clarifying that this country officially has more women than men are we then saying that there just aren’t enough women out there who are capable of receiving this prestigious award and hence the award needs to be awarded to the same recipient year after year.  From my past experiences I have found that the sponsors of an event receive gifts and bouquets of appreciation but never an award.

What criterion did the organizers utilize in order to nominate an individual for the award? Most of the women who received an award were professional women who have excelled in their field. Yes, no doubt they do deserve recognition. And I compliment the Panache team for making every recipient feel special.  Many of the recipients are from influential homes and are affluent in a personal capacity. But what about those women in our community who are not educated or from affluent homes yet they do their bit for humanity in their own personal capacity. They are the unsung heroines of our neighbourhoods and communities. In the past I have met a few women who utilize their monthly income to sustain orphans in their community. Many of these kids were given away at birth or abandoned as kids due to the fact that their parents are addicted to drugs.  These selfless women within our communities who are struggling themselves to make ends meet yet choose to assist others, they need to be recognized and saluted for their efforts as well. Last year I met an elderly Zulu woman who feeds kids in a squatter camp. She suffers from a few ailments and commutes great distances to work and home. These are the kind of women that we need to acknowledge as well. These are the kind of women we need to find within our neighbourhoods. We need to appreciate them and salute them for their unselfish acts of kindness. When I see the heart they have for others, it makes me unworthy of the award that I received on Saturday night.  In my humble opinion, I think for next year’s event every community should nominate a candidate from their suburb. This should be done on a national level.  It should be an award for women, by women supported by the people of SA.  South Africa is made up of a diaspora of cultures . Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do not think that each race group was adequately represented at Saturday night’s function. The majority of the awards went to Indian South African women. Let us create an event that represents the rainbow nation.  In so doing, we will recognize and salute women from all walks of life irrespective of race, colour, creed,social status, educational or family background. This is how we ultimately build a nation. This award function then becomes a super wow event by acknowledging even ordinary women. I would like to take the opportunity in complimenting Mr Abdul Rahim Rasool for singing some of my favourite songs so beautifully. Just a pity the audience were a tad bit stiff to cheer him along. Well done Mr. Rasool. Hope to see more of you at future events.  A big shout out to the dancers who performed at the magical event with absolute grace and finesse.  I  thoroughly enjoyed the semi classical piece that was performed by the male dancer. Every move was executed with sheer precision. And last but not least I was blown away by the strength and resilience portrayed by the female karate artists. They have proven yet again that whilst a woman may be perceived as being weak or fragile, she not only possesses inner strength but outer strength as well. The women who performed at Saturday night’s event were all petite and elegant but wow, absolute power houses.  After all, dynamite does come in small packages. Never ever underestimate the strength of a woman. Thank you Panache once again for a well put together fun filled evening. All the best in your future endeavours!

The choice is yours

Life is becoming increasingly tough for many people out there. I see this everyday as I try to empathize with my patients. More and more young individuals are on antidepressants and mood stabilizers due to difficulties they experiencing within their lives.Financial strain coupled with domestic violence provokes a person to become suicidal. Yesterday I heard the story of a young woman who tried taking her life by overdosing on pain killers as her husband wants to divorce her. At 24 she is a mother of two kids. Whilst she is a loving mom and devoted wife, her husband is simply bored in their relationship and has opted to enjoy a string of affairs. As she is also financially dependent on her husband the thought of getting divorced made her react irrationally and she opted to try committing suicide....

My heart bleeds for a lovely woman I know. Her husband had a thriving business but now that he was diagnosed with a neurological disease and is unable to work any more, their business has literally collapsed. She was a woman of leisure dependent on her husband but now she is forced to step into a business and try managing it without being equipped with the necessary skills or expertise. Her luxury lifestyle is no more and she finds it difficult to accept. There are many people out there who are orthodox and radical when it comes to issues pertaining to women. Many believe that a woman's place is in her home, cooking, cleaning and ironing. What happens to this woman and her kids when the breadwinner of the home is no more or he is unable to work any more. Many will say " Don't worry. God will provide". God will provide yes, if you make the effort. A woman should be self sufficient. You need to develop your own skills so that the ship does not sink..As a woman you need to set your own goals in life and set out to achieve them. In accomplishing your own goals you bring purpose and fulfillment in your own life apart from being a wife or mother.I have come across situations whereby a mother and her kids were left destitute and homeless once the husband passed on. There are women out there who don't know how to do simple banking like depositing money or withdrawing money from an ATM.With the economic situation hitting new lows in this country more and more people out there will struggle to lead a comfortable lifestyle. Marriage is a partnership between two people. In the same way that a woman expects her other half to be more domesticated,a woman should also earn a living to ease her partners burden and responsibility of running a home. Alas, marriage is like the wings on an aeroplane. Both wings need to function 100 percent in order to provide a smooth flight to the passenger's on board...Hence, you can choose to fly on a plane that is rocked by turbulence or you can choose to be on a smooth steady flight. The choice is yours!!

Letter from a prisoner - Stripping down the facts

eNCA

I understand that social media is abuzz and tempers are flaring due to the events that happened at Sun City (Johannesburg Correctional Center B) on youth day coming to light. Naturally, the overwhelming response is one of disgust but how do prisoners themselves view this incident? 

A warden showed me the pictures last week and even as an inmate myself, I was shocked. I did not think that something so public and brazen would happen in that way. Fellow inmates reacted in a similar way. 

Like the rest of the country, prisons in the country are absolutely corrupt from top to bottom. I see corruption happening before my eyes almost every single day. Generally what happens in prison, stays in prison. The public gets exposed to only but a handful of isolated incidents. Preferential treatment of Oscar Pistorius and the pre-release party of the Waterkloof 4 are 2 such incidents which also garnered much attention for the wrong reasons. 

Almost every prison has a Sports, Recreation, Arts and Culture committee (SRAC). Committees consist of a chairman, a warden, and inmates. The primary objective of such committees is to encourage responsible behavior through activities initiated within the prisons. As with any activity, it costs money even in prison. SRAC committees get a yearly budget which does come from your tax money but most of the money is raised through the prison itself or is raised through sponsorship. Every prison has a kiosk which sells snacks at visits and a shop selling basic groceries within the prison, directly to inmates through their own prison accounts. A portion of the profit is channeled back to inmates through SRAC activities. Soccer tournaments, gym equipment, pool tables, board games and televisions are some of the regular activities paid for by SRAC committees. 

Events such as the now infamous Youth Day celebration are also arranged through SRAC. For these functions, inmates arrange sponsors to donate whatever may be required and also approach celebrities to either entertain or give motivational talks. Events take months of planning and even then, most end up being a disaster. Before any event can go ahead, approval must be obtained from various offices, including security and the head of prison. For this particular event, all necessary permission was obtained. The dancers were approved. 

In the world we live in today, music and dance is an integral part of the lives of youth. Nobody really complains at the lewd lyrics or provocative music videos that even school children cannot get enough of. I am certain that many who are irate at the events making headlines have children or they themselves enjoy music or music videos which are absolutely immoral. To me, some music videos are nothing but soft core pornography. 

If the world is enjoying this type of entertainment then why is it such an issue for prisoners to enjoy it? Why not object to prisoners playing soccer, watching television or reading magazines in which so much more is seen? Why not become mad that prisoners in this country have cellular phones? Why not get irate that some prisoners are able to have sex even in prison? In many places in the world, prisoners are allowed conjugal visits, is it such a big issue then to have dancers in a prison? 

As a prisoner myself, I know all to well about escapism. Every prisoner finds his own way of escaping his reality. Some get lost in a book, studies, religion, gym, drugs and others in music and dance. Should all these avenues be blocked? 

At the Center I find myself at, there are also a few events a year. At almost every event, time is afforded for traditional Zulu dancing. The women who participate are not clothed any more than those in the pictures circulating social media. They wear a tiny skirt that shows their panties when they dance and their bosoms are covered by what is nothing more than a bra. Such events are attended by senior management and famous members of the public. I have never heard of any complaint regarding the dress of women during such dances. So why the double standards? Why is it acceptable in the form of traditional dance but not in the form of another genre? 

Yes, prison is meant to be punishment. And trust me, it is punishment. Prison houses the absolute worst of society, but one day, the same men in here will be standing next to you in a queue, be serving you, be your client or even be related to you. That is the reality of the justice system. Everyone, no matter how grave the crime. is entitled to freedom at some stage or other. By depriving a man of everything, are we going to make them better or worse individuals who will enter society? 

Personally, I am upset at the events that occurred. I am not surprised by provocative dancing as that is a part of contemporary society. I am upset that whilst some inmates were getting a show, I am having to fight the same authorities to enable me to continue with my university studies. I am upset that while some can get it right to have exotic dancers, I am unable to have basic religious rights, as allowed by policy. I am upset that some can get entertainment but others who do not belong in prison do not have a voice. I am upset that some die in prison because they do not get the attention that strippers get.

In a country loosing the battle against crime, strippers in prison may be taking things too far and I doubt that anything remotely like it will occur again. This incident should not be what scares the public, rather it should sensitize them to the deeper, underlying issues with the system as a whole. It is easy to get angry and even demoralized by the system, and the country as a whole; but the system and the country will only change if we stop being reactive but rather be proactive. 

Letter from a prisoner - I saw the sunset

At some point or other, each one of us has marveled at the majestic sight of the sun setting. Like the majority of things in our lives, it is one of the daily occurrences that we simply take for granted. 

The last time I saw a sunset was over 7 years ago. The last one that I remember was the weekend before I came to prison. I watched the sun set over the Kruger National Park, an incredible image that is etched in my mind. I was blessed to witness sunsets in spectacular locations all over the world. In Ramadhaan, I cannot help but reminisce over the sunsets of Madinah, a seemingly otherworldly experience. Those images though have recently been replaced by the view of the sunset that I have been seeing for the last few evenings, albeit from the confines of the prison yard. 

The daily prison schedule means that I am locked up in my cell, well before sunset. If I want to see the night sky, I have to contort my body to catch a postcard sized glimpse of the night sky through the flap on my 5 centimeter thick steel door. For the past few weeks, I have been allowed to be out of my cell during sunset. After years of trying, Allah finally softened the hearts of prison officials and they now allow me to go to the kitchen 30 minutes before iftaar to warm food for those fasting. This has made a huge difference to us. It means that we are able to break our fast, in our terribly cold cells, with a hot meal, everyday. Previously, we resorted to using kettles and clothing irons to warm food, but now every fasting person is given a hot plate of food shortly before iftaar, in a dignified manner.

I am often asked what we as prisoners have for iftaar and sehri. Unfortunately, we all get caught up in being more specific about what we eat in Ramadhaan than out of it. It is only when you don't have the choice of what your heart desires, that one truly realizes what is important during this sacred month. That said, the barakah of the month transcends the prison walls as Allah blesses us every year with more than we usually have during the year. 

On the first evening that I delivered food for iftaar, I found myself in one of the prison courtyards and my gaze shifted towards the sky. For those few moments with my eyes fixated on the sky, I was absolutely mesmerized by the beauty that I saw. The sky was a pallet of pastel shades. Warm hues of orange lit the horizon whilst the clouds seemed to be edged in every shade of violet. In this desolate, cold, grey concrete building that is my temporary abode; it was incredibly moving to witness the splendor of my Lords work. 

Every evening since then, I have had the opportunity to witness the sunset from various vantage points within the prison. I have even had the chance to take a moment to break my fast whilst being enthralled by the spectacle above. 

For me, sunset represented another day that passed. Another day that I endured this trial that my Lord has given me. And another day closer to being free. Seeing the sunset has changed that mindset. As humans we get so caught up in the endeavors of life that we forget to take a pause and appreciate the beauty that is all around us and in everything around us. 

The ultimate goal of Ramadhaan is to attain taqwa. Our illustrious ulema enumerate what taqwa actually is and how to attain it. One such definition is that it is the consciousness of Allah. In watching a sunset, it is only natural to realize that there is a Lord who through His Grandeur allows us to witness one of the infinite bounties that He has bestowed upon us. I believe that if we are to see the beauty in everything and everyone around us, we would truly be seeing the beauty of our Creator; and thus acquiring taqwa effortlessly. 

Throughout my life different experiences and different people have affected the views I have on happiness, love and life. Recently, a friend was the catalyst to life changing decisions and becoming an uncle gave me such unexpected passion for life; but it was a sunset that brought me closer to the Lord of the sunset. To many, and even to myself at my lows, I have nothing and am in a terrible position. However, despite it all; I chose to see the beauty in everything and everyone, and that, that means that whilst my body is imprisoned my mind and soul are truly free. Then which of the favors of your Lord will you deny? 

Letter from a prisoner - Ramadhaan behind bars

The New York Times

I have spent 9 Ramadhaans behind bars at 3 different prisons. Every Ramadhaan was different for different reasons and due to different circumstances but one thing was the same in all; no matter how many walls and gates confine my physical self, the barakah that the month brings transcends it all and brings with it sakeenah that sets my soul free. Ramadhaan has always been my favourite time of the year, despite the worst day of my life also being in this month.

The prison system allows for religious practices and for Muslims there are specific concessions made for this blessed month. The main change in the prison is that Muslim inmates are housed together in 1 cell. This helps Muslims to be able to not only pray together but to experience some semblance of quiet and respect for prayer; as well as being able to be in an environment where everyone has the same intentions. Prison policies dictate many other concessions but these are merely on paper as no Muslim authorities ever assist in their complete implementation. 

Naturally, the prison environment presents a new dynamic to the month. My first Ramadhaans were in communal cells. A communal cell generally accommodates 40 men but for Ramadhaan they squeeze around 70 into 1 cell. We did not mind this, if anything it helped to create a better atmosphere. Double bunks were transformed into quadruple bunks in order to create a permanent space for salaah, with the guys on the top literally brushing the roof as they turned in bed; whilst others preferred to rather sleep on the floor. 

The spirit of the brothers for the month meant that even staying in such conditions did not bother them. This was even true when it came time for whudu and the toilet. 70 men sharing 1 toilet and 2 basins is quite a logistical nightmare when it comes to getting ready for salaah, and especially for fajr. Some would take it upon themselves to play the role of bathroom manager in efforts to streamline the process, while others volunteered themselves to clean the bathroom continuously. 

Ramadhaan is supposed to be a time of giving up food but the reality in the world is that food becomes more of a priority in Ramadhaan than out of it. In prison, the same is true to an extent. One Ramadhaan, I was able to eat home food almost everyday for iftaar. One Ramadhaan I lived largely on bread and milk. Allah always made a way though for me to be able to break every fast with dates, and sometimes even with zamzam. The prison gives the guys 5 slices of bread, powder milk, sugar and either jam or peanut butter for sehri. For iftaar, guys keep their prison lunch. Breaking fast hours after being given the food means that the food is cold, so guys come up with ingenious ways to warm up food. Anything from a bucket of boiling water, placing packets inside a kettle, wedging food between hot water bottles and clothing irons are used, to great effect! 

The brotherhood that is shown at meal times is remarkable. I have had the fortune of making iftaar in Madinah Munawwarah where one is literally pulled to join the host in iftaar. In prison, I have witnessed a similar spirit. Even though most have only the essentials, they vie with one another in sharing and in providing for each other; sometimes even becoming physical in efforts to be the ones to serve others. 

All prisons have a shop inside the prison that sells basic groceries. These are a huge help especially during Ramadhaan. Items such as tea, coffee, margarine, instant porridge and the like make sehri and iftaar much more pleasant. Regardless of what we have to eat, joy still abounds at iftaar. 

The past few Ramadhaans have been in the midst of winter. This brings great challenges to us. For instance, making whudu with icy water at sehri, or worse still having to make a fardh ghusl, tests one in ways one cannot imagine. It also does not help that prisons have constant power outages, owing to defunct infrastructure or simply because of load shedding. One Ramadhaan, for almost 2 weeks there was no electricity. This meant no hot meals for that time, no hot water to bath or make whudu and no lights to do anything in. 

These conditions prove really difficult at times for someone like me who grew up as a Muslim and has been fasting since the age of 6. It is infinitely more difficult for men in prison as 99% of them became Muslim in prison. Imagine spending your first Ramadhaan, as a middle aged man, in these type of conditions? It really tests the faith of everyone. 

Seeing as most inmates have never seen the inside of a masjid, most never heard of taraweeh. It is natural then that many find the idea of 20 rakaats rather daunting. In all my years though, I have never had a single person complain about  the length of taraweeh; instead everyone remains committed and is up for the challenge. Some issues however do creep in, but nothing that is not faced in masjids too; like issues over whether the lights should be on or off, or whether the windows should be open or not. 

For some, fasting proves to be a bit too much. It is not uncommon to have someone being caught sneaking into a quiet cell during the day to have a quick bite or more often than not a quick cigarette. Others will feign sickness to get a few days off. The general attitude towards this is compassion and empathy as opposed to aggression or ridicule. 

As someone who is always the imaam and looked up to by the revert Muslims, I cannot help but feel for them and all I can do is to encourage them. It does not sadden me that some of my fellow brothers cannot fast properly, pray properly or read the Quran. Rather it saddens me that in a city like Johannesburg which is full of darul-ulooms and ulema that there is hardly any support at all for Muslim inmates. Yes, some have done terrible unspeakable crimes, but the day they became Muslim, Allah says He forgave all of their past transgressions, so it is time the community and in particular the ulema changed their attitude and assisted.

Don't judge a book by its cover says the old adage. I have learnt and continue to learn that lesson in prison. I spent one Ramadhaan in a single cell with a revert who was extremely passionate about learning. He reminded me of the stories of the sahabah (RA), for they implemented everything they were taught immediately. I taught him about tahajjud and for the year that he was with me, he never missed it for a single night. Another brother learnt how to read arabic, last Ramadhaan he completed the Quraan. It took him on average 4 hours to complete one juz, but he persevered and achieved what so many do not despite their abilities. Last Ramadhaan, I spent with a 50 year old ex-Hindu pundit. By the end of the month he could read Arabic and knew a few surahs by memory.   Another image that will always be etched in my memory is one of 4 or 5 men sharing 1 candle in order to read Quraan.

Inspiration is all around us, no matter where we are. The blessing of this blessed month are also all around us, no matter where we are. 

Letter from a prisoner - Days of our lives, Prison edition!

                                                     https://goodmenproject.com

As an inmate, I only have access to watch the National broadcasters’ 3 television channels and 1 free to air channel. The choice of programs to watch is very limited. I am unfortunately one of the millions of people globally, who watch soapies; for now. It is only out of absolute boredom and because of a lack of choice that I endure a daily dose of escapism. Soapies on the television screen are not the only source of mad behaviour, deception and affairs; the prison is also a source of entertaining events.
Many men in prison have cellular phones, through which they try to win the affection of ladies in the free world. Most of the time, all they seek is a sugar mommy, someone to spend freely on their needs. Their rate of success is very high, all things considered.Interaction with ladies also happens at the visit area. This provides the opportunity for a hug and kiss. It is also common to see inmates eyeing ladies coming to visit another, fellow inmate. These interactions often result in events worthy of a place on any of the popular soapies on television. I will share a few incidents to substantiate this.

A few weeks ago there was a terrible fight in a cell one night. The 2 occupants of the cell ended up in hospital, naturally because of a woman. Thabo had a girlfriend in the real world. A woman he had known for many years. Thabo and his cellmate, Martin decided to put their money together and buy a cellular phone. As they shared everything and were good friends, Thabo did not mind that his lady spoke to Martin when he was busy or sleeping. This carried on for over a year. When Martin thought Thabo was sleeping, he did not realise that Thabo often listened to his conversations, which were often what can only be described as phone sex. Little did Thabo know that Martin was getting his highs from Thabo’s lady.A few weeks ago, Thabo’s lady sent a picture of herself in a compromised position. Thabo was chuffed, thinking the raunchy picture was for him, but on closer inspection noticed that the lady had a new tattoo on a very intimate
body part. All hell broke loose when he realised that the tattoo was Martin’s name enclosed in a heart.
Thabo broke the cell’s window and started stabbing Martin, getting him to confess everything. Martin then somehow overpowered Thabo and a full on fight with broken glass ensued. Both men had time to talk it through as partners in the same hospital room for a few days thereafter.

Another crazy story involves one of the inmates I associate with regularly. James is a young man who is very conscious of his appearance, even when wearing a prison uniform. He gets visits regularly. One day, he was seated a fair distance from an attractive young girl. He could not help but notice that her eyes seemed to not be focusing on the boyfriend she was visiting, but on him. As the lady left, she slipped him a piece of paper with her name and phone number scribbled on it.
James started talking to the young lady and they found a liking for each other. The problem was that the ladies boyfriend is a notorious gangster in the prison. James came up with a rather ingenious way to get rid of his problem. He got the lady to bring pictures of the gangster as well as records of conversations with the gangster. This resulted in the gangster being transferred to the highest security facility in the country, quite literally in the middle of nowhere, where he only gets to make 1 phone call a month.
The deceitful way that this ‘relationship’ started in, did not prevent the couple from getting “engaged.” Only time will tell if this story has a happy ending.

Many men in prison have multiple ladies or “girlfriends” as they like to call them. It seems they like to not only keep their options open but also want to have financial support from more than one avenue. This “cheating” sometimes results in the guilty party being caught out in rather dramatic fashion.
I have witnessed on one occasion a literal cat fight between 2 ladies at a family day. Sipho, like most men enjoyed the attention of ladies. He had planned for 2 ladies to visit him on a particular family day. A family day is basically an extended visit which takes place on the sports field. Sipho arranged for one lady to visit him when the gates opened at 8am and for another to arrive at 11am; with the plan in mind to get rid of the first lady by then.The plan seemed to be going very well. By 9am, Sipho was locking lips and cuddling with his first lady of the day. During one of his kisses, he was abruptly disturbed by the sensation of wetness, only wetness where he did not expect it. Lady number two had come early and had seen her man being very intimate with another lady. She proceeded to empty her bottle of cold drink all over Sipho and his first lady.
Sipho did not know what to do or say, in fact all he and all the spectators did was watch in awe as the 2 women had an epic bitch fight. Sipho lost more than just 2 ladies, the fact that he had a cellular phone and was engaged in other illegal activities also came to light, resulting in him being punished.

These kinds of stories happen quite regularly with varying degrees of intensity and absurdity. They are however not only confined to interactions with ladies.A while back, at my previous prison there was a number of serious gangs fights. It resulted in many spending time in hospital with serious injuries and even with one man loosing an eye.The reason behind the mayhem was a young white boy. As 90% of the populous is black men, white meat is a sought after commodity. The leader of one of the prisons gangs had eyed the boy for himself. The young boy was very insecure and loved smoking weed. As he could not afford to maintain his habit, he became the gang leaders’ toy, offering his bum when it was desired.
Things got out of hand when a rival gang leader decided that he wanted a piece of the white bum. He proceeded to pay more for the services and went on to demand that the boy only serviced him. This then became the starting point for much bloodshed. Unfortunately for the man whore, he lost his eye amidst one of the many fights and subsequently lost his ability to lure clients.

Infidelity is not the only practice of soapies that is found in prisons. There is revenge, betrayal, backstabbing, fraud, stealing, cheating and every other vice known to man in some form or other. Such are the days of our lives...

Rey's yummylicious Phirni recipe just in time for Ramadhaan

1 Add 3 cups milk to a medium sized pot

2. Add 1 teaspoon elachi

3. Add 3.5 tablespoons sugar for taste

4. Add 2 tablespoons semolina

5. Add a few drops of rose essence

6. Add a few drops of either red or green colouring

7. Stir the contents of the pot and bring to boil.

Stir continuously to prevent scorching

8. Once boiled, pour the milk mixture into dessert bowls. Allow to cool

9. Sprinkle dessicated coconut on the top and then refrigerate

Free speech verses religion

Picture taken from vimeo.com

April 17th, 2017

And now this, "You should be ashamed to be taking pictures with Sonu Nigam after his anti Muslim tweets. As a Muslim woman you are a disgrace to society for being associated with him considering that you are from a family that has many aalims and haafith."

I wanted to refrain from commenting on this issue. But I think I now need to voice my opinion as I am now being attacked on a personal level. First and foremost it is absolutely cowardice to message someone from a fake profile. If you wish to tell me something have the guts to say it without hiding your damn identity.

So I woke up this morning with twitter going crazy with regards to Sonu Nigam's controversial comments on a public platform. Whilst I was initially taken aback by his bold choice of words, would we as Muslims have reacted in the same way, if he complained about the sound of Church bells ringing or if he was irritated with the sound of early morning bhajans at a mandhir. Would we have made a noise with equal enthusiasm calling for religious tolerance or would we have not reacted at all. Why do we as Muslims have to react about every comment or statement that is made about our religion or religious practices. He resides in a democratic country where he has a right to voice his own opinion in the same way that I have a right to voice my opinion by stating that I was livid hearing the sound of horns emanating from a mandhir adjacent to our hotel in Mumbai a few years ago in the early parts of the morning as it was disturbing my sleep. Does it make me anti Hindu. Hell no. So why does his comment suddenly make him anti Muslim? A close friend of mine residing in India text me this morning about this issue and this is what he said, " As a Muslim, I fully support Sonu's stance. The high court in Mumbai has passed a law stating that there should be no athaan and bhajans from 10pm until 6am, yet there are masjids in our locality and temples that continue with their prayers on a loud speaker illegally defying the court ruling. I am surrounded by many masjids and sometimes the muazzins in these masjids literally have a competition with each other as to who makes the longest athaan or the loudest athaan or the best sounding athaan. This is not Islam. Islam and our beloved Prophet Muhammed (saw) does not condone the practice of disturbing others. We are encouraged to always follow the laws of a country and abide by them. We are not residing in a Muslim country. We need to accept this. I think he should have condemned noise pollution across the board targeting all religious groups rather than just signalling the athaan only. I do however fully understand his sentiments totally"

Why the bloody hypocrisy. For decades scholars have been debating the use of loudspeakers in Islamic countries. There are many suburbs in the Middle East where the athaan is not said over loudspeakers or it is said over a loudspeaker that is governed and regulated in terms of decibel levels. Even in Morocco whilst I was there, there was constant debate with regards to the calls to prayer via a loudspeaker. If there are many masjids in close proximity should all of them recite the athaan over the loudspeaker or will one athaan suffice for the entire neighbourhood? How loud should the athaan be in terms of decibel levels etc etc etc Why then have the Muslim community not come out guns blazing. There are many Muslim scholars in the Middle East who have suggested that the calls to prayer be regulated so as not to disturb the elderly or people following other religious faiths. I know of a Muslim family residing in Bahrain who complained to the authorities with regards to the call to prayer at fajr time as their home was right next to the mosque and their dad was a cancer patient who disliked noise. The sound was way over the recommended decibel levels. The authorities took their complaint into consideration and action was taken.Nowadays we have technology at our fingertips. We can listen to the athaan on our mobile phones and also through Athaan receivers in our homes without disturbing our neigbours. Islam is a religion of peace and tolerance and hence instead of displaying a mentality of tit for tat, we should be the one's accommodating to the needs of others. Is Mr. Nigam anti Muslim, NO he isn't. If he was he would not have learned music from a Muslim ustaath who he has revered and looked up to all his life, Muhammed Rafi Sahab would not have been his hero and idol and neither would he have maintained a 17 year long friendship with me. If he was anti-Muslim he would not choose to have a Muslim personal trainer, his drivers would not be Muslim and neither would his barber be Muslim. An anti Muslim person would not allow Muslims to pray salaah in their home either.Just to set the record straight, if I hail from a family that has many haafith and aalims that's great. All praises are due to the Almighty. But at the same time I was brought up in a home where we were allowed to explore other peoples cultures and faiths. I am proud to have friends from all over the world hailing from different socio- economic and religious backgrounds. We Muslims are a nation filled with hypocrisy. We are unable to tolerate practices of our fellow Muslims. We have created sectarianism and allowed religious intolerance to rear its ugly head within the banner of Islam. Yet we expect other nations and religious groups to adopt and have religious tolerance towards us. Knowing the person that he is, I am of the opinion that he returned home really exhausted and when he was woken up by the sound of the athaan he suddenly went on a rant in a fit of anger or frustration. Whilst he is a superstar, at the end of it all he is a human being and like any other human being he has a side that gets upset and angry etc. I have seen the human side of him on many occasions and it has only led to constructive criticism and dialogue between us. Whilst Mr. Nigam has certainly got thousands of knickers in a twist, I would like to thank him for sparking debate and dialogue on a global scale. To the coward who inboxed me, the only person who is shameless here is YOU, not only for judging me but for assuming that I am less of a Muslim for taking pictures with a person who has been my friend for almost 2 decades. Your idiotic comment means squat to me dearest for only Allah alone is the the supreme Judge and only to Him do I answer to. Always remember whilst you quick at pointing a finger at me, there are four fingers pointing right back at you!

For those of you who are not aware of the ruling:

If the majority of the residents are non-Muslims who are objecting to
the Athaan over the loudspeaker, then the Athaan should be given
without a microphone. It is not a Shar’i requirement for the Athaan
to be recited on the loudspeaker.

Was-salaam

A.S.Desai

Mujlisul Ulama of S.A.

Perhaps the best comments I read with regards to the above topic is as follows:

"As a revert to the Islamic faith I am appalled and disgusted by the hate speech displayed by Muslims with regards to the Bollywood singer. Rather pray for the gentleman for the worst of people have been guided by God Almighty. A lot of Muslims are hypocrites. They will feel hurt and jump up in arms if something is mentioned about them yet when their own clerics spew hate speech against Jews and Christians no one stands up to condemn these actions. With regards to the athaan I lived in a neighbourhood where there were many masjids. Being a Muslim myself I use to be irritated with the fact that over 30 minutes there use to be 5 athaans and once again one masjid wanted to compete with the next in terms of loudness, not very courteous considering there was an old age home nearby... I felt that one athaan sufficed for the entire suburb.Correct me if I'm wrong but it's not compulsory for the athaan to be said on a loudspeaker..we should be encouraging good relationships with our neighbors..I believe his tweet was written in haste or anger straight after being woken up and has possibly been misinterpreted. Trust me if you are an insomniac like me the fight for sleep is real.
Remember I use to be Christian, so when I resided for a brief period of time in the Middle East I felt that forced religiousness was being imposed on me in terms of not being able to consume alcohol or eat pork for example. India has imposed forced religiousness to its citizens with regards to consuming beef. But that is the law of the country and you abide by it.. India is unique in a sense that its made up of a diversity of cultures and religions and whilst one needs to be extra careful with regards to your choice of words in order to prevent a religious war from igniting, you need to remember that due to corruption laws are never adhered to in India. In small localities you will find numerous masjids or mandhirs depending if it is a predominantly Muslim or Hindu locality and yes it becomes irritating when mandhirs and masjids compete with each other over a loudspeaker. The law is clear, no Hindu hymns, no church bells and no athaan from 9pm until 6am. Reading up more about the man at he centre of the controversy, why haven't Muslims come out in praise of his good deeds and charity work that he does not only for Hindu children but for thousands of Muslims kids in rural India. Why hasn't Muslims praised him for funding hundreds of kids with disabilities in India and in the Middle East many of whom are Muslims. Why hasn't anyone spoke about the love and respect he has for his Muslim teacher who is a fatherly figure in his life. There are hundreds of Muslims who listen to the athaan day in and day out and yet they do not pray. Their lives are empty without God in it but on social media they are quick to jump on the bandwagon and criticize a person who God can guide towards goodness one day. Islam has taught me to never ever look down upon anyone else or speak ill of them even if they are perceived as being wrong. To the Muslims who used vulgar language to defend their faith, two wrongs dont make a right. Would you be pleased to wake up at 4am everyday to the sound of blaring church bells and Sanskrit hymns in your bedroom in praise of a deity that does not fit in with your religious beliefs. If you alright with it that's great. But if not, I rest my case."

"I was Christian and I hated the sound of church bells blaring ding dong in my home. That however does not make me anti Christian. does it? Here's a video that I viewed sometime back. To all those Muslims who commented on the Bollywood singer fiasco, why haven't you as Muslims stood up in arms about such practices of spreading hate among other nations by brainwashing students which is a more serious issue than a silly tweet. Does Islam teach us to run down people of other faiths." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=95GxhqjHZ3E"