27/04/2013
I was “born a Muslim” so to speak. Some of you know my parents;
they are “chill parents”. They encouraged me to read relentlessly. Also to
argue with them annoyingly about everything the minute I could do so. Our
discussions ranged from my theory about how doing one’s bed was useless since
one is to undo it at night anyways, to discussing the use for religion (Islam).
They are both practicing Muslims (now at least, my mom used to pretend she
prayed, sorry mom).
Growing older I read more and more philosophy and studied it
in UWCad as part of the IB. I grew tired of the proofs of God’s existence.
Mostly, “God” is explained away by most Islamic philosophers and later their
western peers. The leading arguments range from “necessity” to a ridiculous
“never take chances”.
Thus I had a strong conviction that God’s existence cannot be
proved nor does he “exist” (I flip-flopped between accepting and negating it).
This is very comfortable and “compatible” with Islam; since it stresses the
uniqueness of the divine and its complete separation from the material world.
Thus it doesn’t disrupt an empirical understanding of the world (there would
have been a problem if there was a material “son of God” or “a retired Pope”
and the like).
Thus, Islam was the perfect religion in terms of
utility-provided and “logical requirements”; prayer was relaxing, fasting
healthy, and helping others fun... I practiced some religious duties and broke
most religious commands. But my faith in God dwindled as I thought that Muslims
were “feeling the divine presence” just because Islam made them “better humans”
in general. I continued to defend the existence of God on an intellectual
ground because I believed his effects can only be beneficial, at least in my
reading of the Quran. Moreover, political Islam provided hope in a world of
political corruption and decadent democracies.
Today I feel different though. I feel like one of these
cheesy “convert to Islam ads”. The following is my short account of the day:
I went to the mosque
instead of solo prayer. It was usual; I was scared that somebody might steel my
motorcycle and shoes, some people put on too much perfume and other smelled of
armpits. The mosque was small, old and the ceiling needed some serious
renovations. Then it happened. Right as I left; I felt that thing in my heart
that one experiences when one is really in love with somebody: my chest was
really light and when I relaxed my face-muscles my lips drew a voluntary smile.
My instinct kept telling me constantly that great things lay ahead of me, sort
of like when I was at the airport leaving for UWCad. My motorcycle didn’t feel
like me though, it broke and the repair guy told me it was Saturday evening and
he doesn’t really feel like fixing it. Usually I would think “Damn lazy Tunisian
HS dropout be sipping tea instead working” and I would despise him for a
second. Today I thought to myself “Damn lazy Tunisian HS dropout be sipping tea
instead working” but didn’t get mad, far from it, I believe if I was gay I
would have even fallen in love with the pretty repair guy.
Just like love, there is an urge to tell people about such an
experience. I think I understand why the people who try to convert over people
do it, in a sense. I used to say in disdain “let them do their thing, they have
internet connection in the street now and they can read”. However, “it” feels
really good and new. How can anyone but share it with the world? I just think
that this purely-existential experience cannot be always framed linguistically…
Honestly, I did not change much practically. I think I was
already considered “a nice and cool guy” by society’s standards and I still
feel cool and my jokes seem to be working thus far. I miss the pot smoking
circles in my college and above all I miss my girlfriend whom I love. I tried
not to look too long at pretty girls on my way back from the Mosque but
Tunisian woman make it hard…
I don’t know if “it” will continue. I hope it is not just my
hair cut (didn’t cut my hair for long), or my grandmother’s food (hadn’t tasted
it for long too) making me feel good or something of that sort. I wish I had my
parents, Itay-stealChicken-beachBQ +Philadoxi friends, and my good Tunisian
friends so that I could share my new thoughts (and borrow some money, living
alone is expensive!).
If the feeling gives away to my usual state of being, I
promise my readers that I will update them. Foes before friends know weather or not I will keep that promise. Honestly I hope I won’t have to and that it
lasts.
Dear readers, friends and family, share your thoughts with me
in comments bellow or send me private messages if need be. In my experience,
every time I discussed a cliché pro-religion topic I also accumulated threats
and disdain from angry Tunisian atheists. That is welcome too (mainly because I
don’t think they will actually kill me, and I can tell people that I get death
threats which is cool at age 21)…
TO BE CONTINUED.
Love,
Firas
