I don't like my persistence with many things. Like the humungous US casuistry, world over. Especially in their dark-dens on alien lands. I think I have this activist streak that drives me to go on! I must have been with the Human Rights or American Civil Liberties Union. Pity, I am a financial hack and interact with hard-nosed guys who smell of oil!
God! Adjust my strings.
Here, an excellent piece of journalism. Institutions like The Guardian and people like Moazzam Begg always compel us to think and question!
An innocent man's dairy. This clearly moved me to tears:
That Ramadan was absolutely unique. It was probably one of the best ones that I have ever spent in my life. Despite the extreme circumstances, the cheerfulness and spirit of everybody was unforgettable. The highlight was the congregational prayer, particularly Taraweeh, the final evening prayer, exclusive to Ramadan. The usual noises of talking and shouting reverberating across the blocks was replaced by a solitary voice, melodically reciting verses of the Qur'an, which brought tears to my eyes. Who knows what those hundreds of others were feeling, remembering, contemplating, at the same time as me? But I knew one thing: everyone there had a reason to weep. And the sadness was almost sweet.