Tales of a Solitary Soul

*sigh*

Once again I wrote a detailed post and yet again, I convinced myself to delete it.

The matter effects us all, yet none of us realize it. No matter how true, some things are better left unsaid.

There are times when I'm not sure if something is suitable to blog. I actually typed a very long post but deleted it because of various reasons.

I'd post it except I'm not ready to reveal, nor the readers of this blog whom I personally know are not ready to hear because it effects us all. Ironically, blogs are a major symptom of this problem.

It's been a tough couple of days so please make some dua's. Please.

Sometimes a simple statement can convey more than a thousand words.

My last post from Calgary and a tribute:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"
(Mark Twain - A Tale of Two Cities)

Another work term ends and in a few hours, I’ll likely never see this place again. As happy as I am about going back to Edmonton, evident by the countdown that I have going on the computer screen for my co-workers to see, it’s going to be sad to leave this team behind.

I genuinely liked every colleague of mine and built relationships that will be torn down in an instant. Then again, that's the nature of life.

To get a better assessment of this experience, I’ll post about it again a few months later. Things are not always clear in the heat of the moment as emotions usually cloud the judgement and hindsight does provide a much better perspective. Very often we are quick to judge things as being ‘good’ and ‘bad’ for us without waiting to see how they will unfold.

For example, was my decision to turn down the Suncor job offer bad? It all depends.

If I can accomplish that I intend, then no matter what my employment situation, it was a smart decision. But if I fail miserably in finishing any of the goals that I have outlined myself by next December, then turning down the job offer is going to be costly.

Then again, that’s where trust in Allah (swt) becomes so important. If I’m making decisions for the ‘right’ reasons, then I have to believe that Allah (swt) is not going to embarrass or humiliate me.

One similar example is whether to pray in public when there is no other option. Do I miss a prayer or do I pray in my office no matter what my co-workers think? (Of course, I explained to them what I was doing though some of them already knew)

My thought process is that since I’m doing the right thing, I will not be put in a bad situation because of it insha Allah and alhumdillalah, not only did no one object but they were very curious and wanted to know more. If anything, I felt they had more respect for me afterwards; certainly a positive side effect.

A Muslim brother who is also in co-op conveyed an interesting story. In an interview with Syncrude, he was interviewed by two women. At the end, they both put out their hands for a formal handshake but being Muslim, he couldn’t touch the hands of non-family females. So he respectfully declined and politely explained his reasons (and vice versea with Muslim females and non-family male members).

Now at this point, we were both of the opinion that the women probably took offense to it and in all likelihood will not offer him the job. But what he did was right and it took an immense amount of courage that most Muslims can’t muster.

A few weeks later, he informed me about his job offer at Syncrude!

Not to say things are going to work out perfectly each time, but in my case every ‘sacrifice’ that I’ve had to make for the right reasons has worked out incredibly well. Cynical people tell me that sooner or later the bubble is going to burst; I say Allah (swt) hasn’t let me down yet and it doesn’t matter what happened to other people, I just look at my own account and live accordingly.

(is it geeky that I actually understood (thanks to Che E 314) and laughed out loud at the following statement: The only constant in life is flux)

Secluded stone villas on Mediterranean beaches surrounded by crystal blue water, barren deserts of the Arabia, thick rainforests of the Amazon basin, magnificent mosques of Andulasia, picturesque coral reefs off the Australian coast......


Insha Allah, I'll travel the world someday........one day.

Will you join me?

The US and the EU are threatening to cut off aid to the Palestinian Authority if it allows Hamas to run in the upcoming elections. Did I miss something here? Weren’t these two just clamoring about democracy in the Middle East and now they want to interfere in their affairs to ensure a ruler that will favor them.

Hamas does enjoy widespread support partly because it is ‘less corrupt’ and also it is not viewed positively by the Americans or Israel. And any thing not liked by these two is generally loved by the Muslims, especially the Palestinians. Going by the same logic, should US cut off aid to Israel because some right wing nationalists in Sharon's coalition government advocate the idea of 'no peace.'

From my grade ten definition of democracy, I don’t remember it mentioning anywhere that the candidates had to be approved by foreign powers; ‘will of the people’ it proclaimed. Cruel fate works like a Greek tragedy or something out of a Seinfeld episode.

Oh well, even if US doesn’t like the victor, it will just simply get the CIA to overthrow the legitimate government and install a military ruler who will get out of their hands only to become an excuse for an invasion later on (*cough* Iran *cough*).

Simple enough algorithm, I suppose.

An ‘emotion recognition’ software recently developed has calculated that the most famous painting in the world, the Mona Lisa, is 83% happy. Why they needed to run a computer analysis on the painting is beyond me when it’s pretty obvious that she has a smirk on her face; the kind that hints at a secret.

The smile itself is the basis for one of the best selling books of all time and an upcoming Hollywood movie starring Tom Hanks, The Da Vinci Code.

On a happy note, Pakistan whooped the English cricket team like there’s no tomorrow. So, who’s next in line?

Come to think of it, I can’t remember where I got the idea to look up the Calgary museum. Maybe it was one of the subconscious effects of transit advertising or perhaps always having a certain affinity to historical artifacts, whatever the case, the Calgary museum had to be visited. The Islamic work scene in Calgary for the youth was in tatters and other than the occasional get together, there was not much to do. Improvise they say and so I did.

Initially, I was a little skeptical upon discovering that it was situated in the heart of downtown. As convenient as the location was, it did raise questions as to how expansive could it possibly be residing in the most valuable commercial real estate in all of Calgary?

Though, any such fears were soon overwhelmed by sheer excitement as the website proudly proclaimed their once-in-a-lifetime traveling exhibition:

"Petra: Lost City of Stone, the most comprehensive exhibition ever presented on the ancient city of Petra, makes its Canadian premiere at Glenbow Museum. From the second century B.C. to the third century A.D., Petra was the trade crossroads of international trade routes linking India and southern Arabia with the markets of Syria, Egypt, Greece, and Rome, and was one of the most influential and prosperous commercial centres in antiquity.

Located south of the Dead Sea, Petra was unmarked on modern maps until it was rediscovered by Swiss explorer Johann Burckardt in 1812. Since then, Petra, with the mystery and splendor of its rock-carved architectural ruins, its savage beauty, and the variegated color of its cliff faces, has been a source of deep fascination for westerners."

Fascination with long lost civilizations had existed from a young age, so having the opportunity to see one in its shattered splendor sprang a sudden urge to drop everything and make a run for it. Fortunately, common sense prevailed and as the working day labored its way to the finish line, it became increasingly difficult to think of anything else.

The museum was well hidden, situated right in the heart of downtown’s cultural district with shops, restaurants, and bars serving far-flung tourists and the city residents alike. I had walked by it several times, yet never aware of the treasures that lay within an arm’s reach. Standing barely a few feet from the entrance, I still had a hard time pinpointing its exact location. ‘You never pay attention to detail,’ mother had always warned me though I never took heed believing her to be the mistaken one. In hindsight, she was correct all along.

It being a weekday and all, downtown had already turned into a ghost town so it wasn’t surprising that the streets had a graveyard mood to them. There was pin drop silence at the entrance lobby, only broken by the occasional cough of the bored ticket attendant, who seemed content not to be dealing with hordes of crowd common during daytime. Some tourists could be seen browsing in the gift shop and others inched their way towards the door, no doubt sad to leave the remains of a once great city that’s been reduced to showcasing its ruins like a street vendor. Researchers allege the culprit to be a massive earthquake.

“And how many a town that We destroyed, so Our punishment came to it by night or while they slept at midday.” (al-Araf v:4)

It was really a majestic place; red carpets outlined with golden embroidery that gave the impression of fine silk imported from Far East; made me feel guilty to be even walking on it. A gigantic chandelier was suspended from the fourth floor ceiling made up of rectangular glass pieces that invisibly hung in the air resembling stalactites delicately arranged in beautiful helical patterns and a winding staircase at whose feet sat a pianist, composing soothing melodies that echoed in every corner of the building like humming birds carefully placed.

It would not have been hard to believe that I had been transported to a 17th century English ballroom for the nobles or was gazing upon the entrance to paradise, missing only angels and a golden gate (infernal TV has ruined my imagination!).

Contrary to expectation, the place looked very spacious even after the hundreds of relics that called it home. There were four levels with the uppermost preserving Calgary’s historical documents from confederation onwards. It was closed the day I ventured in but it mattered not, for there was enough entertainment without it.

The first floor consisted of three separate exhibitions; to my left, a tribute to the Canadian West, the path straight ahead lead to a collection of beautiful mineral and rock formations, and corridor to the right displayed a short history of war artifacts. Petra being the main reason of my quest, I hurried ran up another flight of stairs to the object of my great curiosity.

Part II

The second floor was identical to the first except it was not portioned off into subsections. Majority of the area seemed to host the Petra artifacts with an area reserved for Hindu and Buddhist statues that seamlessly merged to the second floor main lobby. Initially, I wandered around a little bit not sure of the best starting point, trying to go in an orderly manner to fully enjoy the exhibits.

Along the walls were pictures displaying the unbridled achievements of architecture and technology that must have made Petra a leading city of its time. Some showed arched doors carved on mountain surfaces with such precision that artists, not stone masons, seemed to be their authors. Imagine the first person to stumble along these magnificent ruins in the middle of the desert would have thought to be hallucinating.

Colossal pillars erected on either side of the entrance as if guarding the city against unwanted visitors, reminding me of the two giant king statues by the river in Lord of the Ring. A complex maze of artificial aqueducts was built to prevent the city from flooding, still functioning to this very day. Perhaps whatever is left of New Orleans could take a pointer or two.

The city is said to have peaked around the third and fourth century serving as the trade link between Palestine in the east and the Syrian/Indian goods coming in from the west. Nabateans, as the people of Petra were called, revered Greek goddesses such as Aphrodite and Dionysus, evident by the statues recovered from the ruins. Greeks seemed to have made quite an impression for the city starkly resembled the Athenian ruins. The Greeks gods were mixed in with some of the pre-Islamic Arab ones, creating a fusion of the two. Though Christianity made inroads in the third century after the Roman conquest, worshipping idols still formed the basis of their belief system.

A stone carving of Alexander’s head stood as testament to the Roman influence. This was the first statue I saw in the exhibit that was dedicated to a person instead of gods or goddesses. It’s a strange feeling staring at one of the greatest conqueror of all time, with only a velvet rope between us; during his reign, I probably would have been sentenced to death for my close proximity and today his stone eyes seem to give out a cry.

A prisoner before his death sentence, the face reflected despair and agony. I would have given all my money to hear the story of the man behind the glamorized Hollywood portrayal; power and money seem to bring legacy but only if they could guarantee happiness.

A Roman-esque theatre in Petra (like the one in Gladiator)

Around the 8^th century, the Muslims took over the land but by then, the city was a pale shadow of its former self. The time period of its utter destruction, subscribed to an earthquake, is still a matter of debate. So, you could it say I was rather surprised to come across a preserved page of the Quran dating back to the 13^th century. It was believed to be handwritten in Egypt and how it made its way to Petra will forever remain a source of mystery. Nonetheless, it served as a symbolic image of the ties that the city had with the Islamic kingdom.

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INTERESTING SIDE NOTE: The Muslim and the Christian belief is that their holy books have not changed a single word from the time they were revealed (or ‘inspired’ as in case of the Bible). So here was a chance for me to not to believe a religious scholar, but to check the claim first hand and I did using my handheld Palm which had an electronic copy of the Quran. Not just every single word but every squiggle to each dot was the same on both copies; a distance of 800 years between the two (for the curious, the page had the first six verses of surah inshiqaq)

“And certainly We have left a clear sign of it for a people who understand.” (al-ankaboot v:35)

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The outer edges of the room had relics and inscriptions with their backs to the wall and a red ribbon occupying the other three sides like a murder scene, though at some level the analogy held true.

There were tools of every day use to an entire stair case on display that would not have looked out of place in Aladdin’s Baghdad. Some artifacts were partially cracked while others missed a complete chunk but yet possessed the power to evoke powerful emotions about their mystifying origins.

Who carved them and why? Was it to earn a living or as an act of devotion--to a goddess or to love? How many years were spent by their authors so we can stare for a few seconds?

In the middle of the first exhibition room stood a giant TV screen, about half the size of a normal theatre one. It was a playing a short film on the history of Petra and its stone carved wonders before a grand audience of about 30 empty chairs. Always willing to join a party, I perched on to a second row seat feeling rather awkward to be the only one but was soon joined by a young couple, who judging by their body language looked to be on a first date.

“Interesting setting for a date,” I thought to myself.

But the sparse crowd of after-hours coupled with the soft tinge of museum lights did create a romantic atmosphere of sorts. Magnificent artwork surrounding us was possibly inspired by love or even passion, certainly not as awe inspiring as the Taj Mahal but still no different in dreams they aroused; visions of grandeur that hid all the troubles, if only for that solitary moment that makes life worth living. Many a lovers had probably met under the moonlight sky of Petra carrying the same glimmer of hope their present day counterparts twinkled with--a life unto each other.

Perhaps that’s where the magic of this forgotten city lay, still awakening desires long after her demise.

(to be continued...)