When people talk about art, most people think of pretty pictures that the eyes can feast upon.  Maybe it can show you a wonderful piece of craftsmanship, displaying the skill that some people have been blessed with.  On the other hand, it could show something that will give you nightmares for the next few weeks.

However, many people forget that a performance can be an art form too.  Using words or stories to provide stimulation for the soul.

So for my choice of art this week, will a be a performance art brought to you by Khayaal Theatre

Khayaal is an award-winning British arts enterprise that develops and produces original dramatic interpretations of classic Muslim world literature for the stage. In its ten year history, Khayaal has developed a strong reputation as the sole dedicated producer of professional theatre inspired by Muslim world culture and heritage in the West.

Inspired by the universal trend within classic Muslim literature and the challenge of producing what theatre luminaries, like Peter Brook, Jerzy Grotowski and Antonin Artaud, have described as ‘theatre of the invisible made visible’, Khayaal has created its own genre and brand of entertainment whose formula of wisdom and humour has won it popular and critical acclaim nationally and internationally. It has attracted a large, culturally diverse, cosmopolitan audience for its work, and gained the interest of a wide range of interested parties including local authorities, arts organisations, businesses and venues.

Although founded by Muslims, Khayaal proactively involves both Muslims and Non-Muslims in all aspects of its work. Over the past decade, Khayaal has shown that its work has the capacity to bring together communities and encourage a greater appreciation of universal virtues as well as of the literature and arts of the Muslim world. Whereas many talk about integration, reconciliation and intercultural dialogue and understanding, Khayaal practically demonstrates this in creative enterprise.

a

So you are a new Muslim, and you may be such even if you have a lineage of Muslim ancestors that stretches back for generations, for each person who genuinely discovers Islam, confirms it and determines to live by it is always new.

You are beginning to find your feet in this strangely topsy-turvey world that is Islam today and that is especially upside-down in our already upside-down world here in the West.
You are assailed on one hand by the serious squad and their differences, a topic we dealt with at some length in the first part of this letter. On the other hand, there is the assault of the celebrities, nasheed singers and the whole burgeoning ‘Islamic’ entertainment industry. Reading the early history of the Muslims, it is very hard to find a match for this strange new culture of pop Islam, or the exotic panoply of superstar scholars and lecturers who fill our screens and the platforms of our conferences.
How did we get from ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab, may Allah be pleased with him, to this endless procession of celebrities, expert scholars and orators? As you are a new Muslim, we dare to think that you might question all this, that you really yearn for the authentic, that you would like somehow to live and die in Islam, not merely trying to prove to the world that you are exactly the same as them in every way, except that you are ‘Islamic’. No, you have decided that you are a Muslim, and not merely ‘Islamic’, if I dare express your thoughts for you.

Read on.

Via Tip Us Off

[Image coutresy: The Jamoker]

a

Twenty years ago, I left Lahore. Excited by prospects of quality higher education and the adolescent yearning for freedom, this was a moment that only with age I have understood. A flash that alters the life-path even when one is not aware of it. As I grew up and visited Lahore from a multitude of cities and continents, Lahore’s provincialism and inward-looking ethos irked me. However, the splendour of its lived history and multi-layered present fascinated me endlessly. A false sense of fatalism whispered that my exile was going to cover a life-span.

The last few years were spent abroad: so dejected I was that not living in Lahore would mean living just anywhere. When I decided this summer to return to Pakistan, I was astounded by the reactions from all and sundry. I was told that I am ‘mad’ to have chosen to return to a burning, imploding and crashing Pakistan. Such is the power of global corporate media that even the discerning and schooled Pakistanis have started to believe in the failed state mantra scripted outside Pakistan.

My own parents, temporary residents of Islamabad, scared by the blasts advised me against it. Others from the more indulgent school of thought were aghast with my decision to return to a country where power outages, crumbling urban infrastructure and pollution define urban living. Of all the nightmares cited was that who knows if the country would survive? Such cynicism and unmasked pessimism about Pakistan is always disturbing, yet familiar. My question is when was the country not about to unravel since 1947?

Continue reading.

[Image coutresy: fredericknoronha]

a

Today (October 17, 2008) marks the 191st birthday of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan (1817-1898).

In the history of Indian Sub-Continent, the role Syed Sahib played for Muslims of India deserves golden words. Sir Syed was the most influential leader and social reformer of his time. He felt that the socio-economic future of Muslims was threatened by their orthodox aversions to modern science and technology. He made significant contributions in this regard that had long term implications for the Muslims of India that eventually lead to creation of state of Pakistan.

Either it be his advocacy for Urdu to be recognized by British empire as second language of India & a symbol of Muslim heritage or establishment of a ‘Muslim Cambridge’ in form of MAO college at Aligarh, he is seen as a most vocal figure for the rights of Indian Muslims in the second half of 19th century under British Raj. At Aligarh, Sir Syed formed Scientific Society of Aligarh, the first scientific society of its kind in India that assembled Muslim scholars from across India, held annual conferences, disbursed funds for educational causes and regularly published a journal on scientific subjects in English & Urdu.

a

The team at Ijtema.net wish all of our readers a wonderful and fulfilling Ramadan!

If you have an interesting and inspiring story to share about this sacred month, why not submit it to the MuslimMatters.org Ramadan short story contest? There are some great prizes on offer, so do check it out, as the deadline is 15th September!

a

And I think about the suffering, my dead daughter. She is my daughter. We are connected, the people of iman, connected in a way that is beyond even the ties of blood. They claim this is a fantasy, some sort of fake kinship. Say what you like. Prattle away in your ignorance! Those who live it and taste it know the truth of it, and your words make no difference.

a

a

The condition affects many essential systems of my body causing blindness, respiratory difficulties and speech problems. I have no useful vision; have a tracheotomy tube inserted into my throat to aid breathing and use a special device to amplify my voice. When I do manage to go out I need to use a wheelchair as I am not able to walk more than a short distance without getting extremely breathless.

[Photo Credit: Stage Whisper]

a

Umm Umar writes about what the Rope of Allah means to her in a moving poem.

The rope of Allah is anything we need it to be

To pull us safely back on His Path and away from His Wrath

The rope of Allah is dua, a step in the right direction, Money or time well spent The rope of Allah is a kind deed, a good word,

A ghusl taken for salat or a single day’s fast

The rope of Allah is in choosing not to go out, go away…

a

Your glazed eyes caught mine
Standing in the cubicle not making a call -
All calls on wait cause the devil calling you
Chasing Glaurung with lips wrapped around a clear biro
Foil glistens in the Maghrib setting sun
Your glazed eyes caught mine
Movie poster barely covers shame
Should I have looked away?

Continued…

a