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Expat Childhood in the Middle East
For a few weeks now, I have been helping my parents pack up from our home in Mesaieed. To be precise, bits and pieces of my childhood are either thrown away, given to charity, sent for recycling or in a cardboard box waiting to be flown back to our home country. A silent sense of sadness permeates through me. I as an adult 20 something suddenly feel like ‘the place of my childhood’ has ceased to exist. First things first, I consider my host country – Doha – more home than my home country – India. I find comfort in the sense of familiarity of friends I know since my…
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Calls to Him – Duas
I find myself in darkness. Unable to move. Tears stream my face. Light, I need Light. I think of Younus in the belly of the whale. عليه السلام In the depth of the ocean. In the darkness of night. He cried out, ‘There is no God but You, Glory be to You. Indeed, I have been of the wrong-doers.’ His darkness vanished. His prayers were answered. I think of Ibrahim, they swept him into the fire. عليه السلام Blazing fire. Melting heat. Burning day. He cried out , ‘ Sufficient for me is Allah and He is the best disposer of affairs.’ The fire cooled down. His prayers…
