Divine Salaciousness

I was reading Hassan's blog and I was inspired. His writing was comforting, therapeutic and entertaining. I know that I previously with held information since I feared my family would discover my apostasy. It's been a week of disbelief and I have decided to detail my experience with Islam during the 18 years of my existence. I can't hide in my mind forever.

I will begin with the first time my iman was challenged.

I was fortunate to coast through the first nine years of my life without significant hardship. My family was stable and I lived in a relatively quiet town in southern New Hampshire. The worst of my worries was whether I left my Power Ranger action figure on night stand or on the kitchen table. I just started third grade and I was learning how to manage money. My third grade teacher would give us a salary of monopoly money every week. This money was used to purchase spare pencils, homework passes, and food at snack time. But we also were obligated to pay a sales and income tax. It was through him that I learned how to manage my finances.

I was sloppily recording my earnings on a manila envelope I used as a wallet one early Tuesday morning when my teacher walked into the classroom. He impassionedly slammed the door and briskly walked towards the television. In his fervor, he passed the news channel several times until the class got to clearly see the iconic smoking towers.

The class unanimously understood America was attacked. When the news anchor identified the terrorists as Muslim the entire class turned away from the TV screen and faced me.

9/11 had a devastating affect on my social life as a child. I remember suddenly being banished from the lunch table I used to sit at. Former friends explained to me why their parents refused to let me befriend them. As the only ethnic minority of around 100 children I felt alone. I remember being chased by boys with Velcro sneakers with blinking lights. Each one of them carried a neon colored hula-hoop used to pull me to the ground once the got close enough. After 12 kicks and a couple comments about my mother I was left alone.

To escape the barbarism I retreated to the school library during recess. It was here where I became really interested in science. I would mostly read about physics and biology. Unfortunately, this isolated me further away from my peers and some of my teachers saw me as an eccentric. I tried to explain gravity to my class once and my fourth grade teacher sent me to the nurses office. It was only till I was seventeen when my mother told me that principle referred my to a psychiatrist.

Not everyone was bad though. My second grade teacher would discuss science with me. I remember how she sat with me during lunch and would entertain my discussion about the things I read. She was one of the few that understood that I wasn't responsible for the events that transpired on 9/11. That I was only a child.

I eventually moved away from this school. When I left my principle told me I was one less student to worry about.

I guess its predictable that this situation caused me to become more faithful. My mother told me that my struggle in school was for Allah. That everyone who bullied me would burn for eternity. My juvenile mind loved this idea. I wanted everyone in that establishment to roast forever. I was full of hate. I began to pray and I identified more with my Islamic identity. I wanted to use the divine as a tool for revenge. I drowned myself in a aphotic broth of subjective feeling. This is where my love for Allah was born. Not from peace but violence.

I'll be home in a week and I'll post stuff from my old journals.

-Karim

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Topic: Divine Salaciousness

Krhyme

OP - August 07, 2011, 09:21 PM

musivore

Reply #1 - August 08, 2011, 03:50 AM

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