Khadra hates when people say that as a replacement for specific information.
"It-it must be painful. I'm sorry." What do you say? There were set phrases for marriages, births, deaths, but not for divorce.
"After the hard time, there is the easing," he says, after a minute. So it was she who left him, Khadra speculates. His face smoothes out. "After the hard time, there is the easing."
There is no single word in English that conveys the scope of the Arabic word Salat. `Prayer,' `blessings,' supplication,' and `grace' are implied, but all fail to convey the Salat's marvelous integration of devotional heart-surrender with physical motion.
-Coleman Barks and Michael Green, The Illuminated Prayer
Zuhura led the three "Little Sisters"-that was what she called Khadra, Hanifa, and Tayiba-in duhr prayer. It was a quiet Saturday at the Thoreau home in the Fallen Timbers. They stood in line next to her tall plump form in her two-piece patterned prayer wraps of leso cloth. Khadra hastily took her half-chewed gob of bubble gum out of her mouth and stuck it on the coffee table. She nestled into Zuhura's side, shadowing her every motion as Zuhura imamed them through the four rakats of duhr prayer.
After the salam, before the girls made to dash off, Zuhura held them back. "Say after me," she said. "My dear God, you are Peace."
It was only by comparison with Zuhura that some aunties called Tayiba "the quiet one" of the two sisters. Tayiba wasn't that quiet; she just didn't have the leadership energy that fired Zuhura, her easy command of speech, her forward drive. In any environment, but especially in a small community, Zuhura would stand head and shoulders above not only her peers, but her elder and younger cohorts. It was natural for the three younger girls to follow her lead, not because they were docile-they were not-but because she had presence, and they felt it.
"My dear God, you are Peace," the younger girls now said in unison. Khadra had already stuffed the wad of gum back into her mouth.
"And from you cometh Peace," she chanted.
And from you cometh Peace," they said, Khadra through bubble gum.
"And to you belongeth Peace."
`And to you belongeth Peace. "
"Blessed be You and All-high."
"Blessed be You and All-high."
"You of the Majesty and the Welcome."
"You of the Majesty and the Welcome. "
Zuhura wiped her face with the cupped hands of prayer and the girls all wiped their faces likewise, and were indeed at peace, for one microsecond, before they ran noisily out to the porch and clambered onto their bikes, speeding off into the sunny, littered streets. Leaving her swathed in her prayer clothes and the noontime calm. But no-she ran out after them to call, "Don't forget-dinner at Uncle Abdulla's!" Khadra groaned. Uncle Abdulla made you eat too much. Zuhura went back inside to work on a paper about colonialism in Kenya.
There had always been murmurs of disapproval about the amount of latitude Zuhura's parents gave her in allowing her to commute to the Bloomington campus. Khadra's parents, for their part, believed a Muslim girl should go to college close to home. What was wrong with the Indianapolis branch of IU? Zuhura was going farther afield than a Muslim girl ought to be, especially when it entailed driving home late at night by herself.
"She's a smart girl," Aunt Ayesha said firmly."She can take care of herself."
Zuhura knew better than to stop in Martinsville, at any rate. She may not have had many of the other survival skills developed over generations by American blacks, but everyone in Indiana knew that Martinsville was no place to be unless you were white.
True to her mother's expectations, Zuhura began to be active in the Campus Muslim Council. A dean's list student, she helped lobby the university administration to recognize Muslim holidays, and organized speaking events on "Islam, the Misunderstood Religion" and on social justice issues. Sudan, Uganda, Palestine, Iran, Cambodia, Kashmir: everywhere,
"It-it must be painful. I'm sorry." What do you say? There were set phrases for marriages, births, deaths, but not for divorce.
"After the hard time, there is the easing," he says, after a minute. So it was she who left him, Khadra speculates. His face smoothes out. "After the hard time, there is the easing."
There is no single word in English that conveys the scope of the Arabic word Salat. `Prayer,' `blessings,' supplication,' and `grace' are implied, but all fail to convey the Salat's marvelous integration of devotional heart-surrender with physical motion.
-Coleman Barks and Michael Green, The Illuminated Prayer
Zuhura led the three "Little Sisters"-that was what she called Khadra, Hanifa, and Tayiba-in duhr prayer. It was a quiet Saturday at the Thoreau home in the Fallen Timbers. They stood in line next to her tall plump form in her two-piece patterned prayer wraps of leso cloth. Khadra hastily took her half-chewed gob of bubble gum out of her mouth and stuck it on the coffee table. She nestled into Zuhura's side, shadowing her every motion as Zuhura imamed them through the four rakats of duhr prayer.
After the salam, before the girls made to dash off, Zuhura held them back. "Say after me," she said. "My dear God, you are Peace."
It was only by comparison with Zuhura that some aunties called Tayiba "the quiet one" of the two sisters. Tayiba wasn't that quiet; she just didn't have the leadership energy that fired Zuhura, her easy command of speech, her forward drive. In any environment, but especially in a small community, Zuhura would stand head and shoulders above not only her peers, but her elder and younger cohorts. It was natural for the three younger girls to follow her lead, not because they were docile-they were not-but because she had presence, and they felt it.
"My dear God, you are Peace," the younger girls now said in unison. Khadra had already stuffed the wad of gum back into her mouth.
"And from you cometh Peace," she chanted.
And from you cometh Peace," they said, Khadra through bubble gum.
"And to you belongeth Peace."
`And to you belongeth Peace. "
"Blessed be You and All-high."
"Blessed be You and All-high."
"You of the Majesty and the Welcome."
"You of the Majesty and the Welcome. "
Zuhura wiped her face with the cupped hands of prayer and the girls all wiped their faces likewise, and were indeed at peace, for one microsecond, before they ran noisily out to the porch and clambered onto their bikes, speeding off into the sunny, littered streets. Leaving her swathed in her prayer clothes and the noontime calm. But no-she ran out after them to call, "Don't forget-dinner at Uncle Abdulla's!" Khadra groaned. Uncle Abdulla made you eat too much. Zuhura went back inside to work on a paper about colonialism in Kenya.
There had always been murmurs of disapproval about the amount of latitude Zuhura's parents gave her in allowing her to commute to the Bloomington campus. Khadra's parents, for their part, believed a Muslim girl should go to college close to home. What was wrong with the Indianapolis branch of IU? Zuhura was going farther afield than a Muslim girl ought to be, especially when it entailed driving home late at night by herself.
"She's a smart girl," Aunt Ayesha said firmly."She can take care of herself."
Zuhura knew better than to stop in Martinsville, at any rate. She may not have had many of the other survival skills developed over generations by American blacks, but everyone in Indiana knew that Martinsville was no place to be unless you were white.
True to her mother's expectations, Zuhura began to be active in the Campus Muslim Council. A dean's list student, she helped lobby the university administration to recognize Muslim holidays, and organized speaking events on "Islam, the Misunderstood Religion" and on social justice issues. Sudan, Uganda, Palestine, Iran, Cambodia, Kashmir: everywhere,
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