The Splendid Garden that is Islam

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This morning I was thinking about flowers. Not just any flower, but a Daisy (of sorts). It was a Sunday night gift, you see. Before I went to bed, I put Heche's solitary bloom into an empty cookie jar. And when I woke up I found the flower waiting for me next to my coffee and morning-misery (most people call it a newspaper).
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THE HAPPY NESCAFE. The cup of Nescafe I am having is the non-hallucinogenic sort, certainly not the type being consumed by the protestors in Libya. So you will not see me doing anything remotely rebellious. I am uninterested in toppling the government of my country. I am interested only in toppling the oppressive government of my Ego. Take my word that the second is harder than the first.

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An Instrument of Regime-Change

REFLECT, THEY SAY! It is easy to reflect. What you need is just time. The wonderful merit of reflection was touched upon by Fethullah Gulen. I remember him writing this somewhere..."Reflection allows believers to discern what is good and evil, beneficial and harmful, beautiful and ugly, and makes the universe a book to study and reveal the Qur’an’s deeper meanings more clearly. As the Prophet Muhammad (Pbuh) stated: “No act of worship is as meritorious as reflection. So reflect on God’s bounties and the works of His Power, but do not try to reflect on His Essence, for you will never be able to do that.”
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SPLENDID GARDEN. My reflections, as defective as they are, have taken me some distances in time and space. Sometime in end of 2004, I recorded the following prose while flying over the plains of history...

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1. Islam Was Once A Splendid Garden
Islam was once a splendid garden,
Filled with rose, tulip and jasmine blooms.

The garden was protected
By a wall of stone
Upon which was inscribed
“All ye who seek shelter,
All ye who seek safety,
Come hither.”

Outside the garden wall
Ran a moat of clear sweet water,
From which travelers drink
And are feted with the words;
“If ye think the water is sweet,
Enter ye into the garden and drink
Thy fill from the fountain!”

That was then.

Now the free fountain
Has been replaced with
A coin-operated dispenser.
The walls have been torn down
And in its place
A fence of fire has been erected,
With gates and toll booths
Occupied by surly operators.

Alas! We find
The moat has dried up,
The trees and flowers
Are crying,
And into the garden
The fire sends plumes
Of damnable smoke
And noxious fumes,
Blocking out the stars and the moons
That once gazed brightly
Down upon us.
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POLITICO-ISLAM. I am not a big fan of political-Islam. And more frighteningly, I am distrustful of even the idea of democracy. I can accept democracy as a means - but as an end? Oh no, it is just not my cup of coffee... or tea, come to think of it. There are also those who ride under the banner of politico-Islam while hiding a hidden purpose. That has always been the numero uno reason for Islamic political parties to win elections, only to find their right to form a government blocked by sectional interests who oppose or are suspicious as to the politico-Islamist agenda, hidden or apparent. My position is simple - I don't even believe in what either party is fighting for, nor the 'democratic' arena in which they choose to fight their idealogical battles.

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BORING OLD TAUFIQ. As you may discern, my interest is wholly personal. And although I am a sinner, in as far as I can, I would like to be a good sinner. What is addressed here is wholly internal to me, and I guess my only hope is that in you I may find a kindred spirit. For others who believe that the political forum is the best avenue for change, well good for you. I wish you all the best in your endeavour. As for me, my life, my bloom, my flower will only last awhile, and one day, I will perish in accordance to the rules of mortality ordained upon me by God. But when the flower is in the province of the Heart, you and I know that such blooms lasts forever, beyond the strict rulings of Time.

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Have a good rest of the day, flowers.

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Pax Taufiqa.