Sunday, March 2, 2014

the carpet in the corner

I am a carpet in the back corner of a mosque. That may not be as glamorous as being a khat writing on the wall or a gigantic chandelier hanging from the ceiling, but

Who am i to complain. Carpets get changed every now and then, so might as well enjoy my time here before the dust settles. I've been here only a few months, the old carpets were replaced because a really Big Man came to the mosque to officiate a ceremony, and apparently green just wouldn't do. I asked the front-door carpet, how was it? What did it feel like to be graced by two Very Important Feet?

"Rough. A bit sweaty. Somewhat smelly. Like any other feet."

Please forgive his sarcasm. I guess you tend to be grumpy if you get stepped upon everyday.

Contrary to what you might think, being a carpet isn't all that bad. We're vacuumed once a week by this kindly old man and then sprayed with, what's the name of that thing? Febriz? Febreeze? I can't remember, my head's full of fluff. Assuming i have a head, that is. Sure, there's the occasional saliva drool or 'urethral discharge' (little children are a particular dread. I can still hear the carpet in the middle, screaming in horror as a little boy walking with his father suddenly stood still, said 'daddy, i want to weewee' and let loose without a moment's pause. *shudder*) but overall, things are awesome.

If i have something to complain about, it's that i hardly ever get used. Except on fridays. Lucky those front-row carpets, they always have visitors. Why not build a mosque with just two rows then? I don't know, human logic escapes me. I heard the imam's mat (he's been here the longest, no one dares to change him because he's a particular favorite of the imam. He is also the wisest and most rug-ged amongst us) say that humans have even more fluff in their head than carpets. 

So that has been my life so far. Looking forward to Fridays, and passing the time looking at those 'wise and rug-ged' humans who are a staple feature of this place.

Until something interesting happened a week ago. 

After the last prayer of the day, all those humans would go back and do whatever it is humans do. But last week, all of them went back except for one small group. They walked to the back of the mosque and *nervous excitement* sat on me.

Me! Of all the carpets in the world.

These were not like the other humans who usually attended the mosque. They were less wrinkly, laughed at every other sentence..and wore some kind of blue fabric that felt a bit rough. 

Then they sat in a small circle, and suddenly everyone was quiet and sober. They each took out a mid-sized book and all the books had colourful stickers in them. I've seen humans reading these books, but never with stickers. And the things these people talked about, some of them i never heard before.

"..we are khaleefas....ustaziyatul alam..our mosques are half-empty, the carpets gathering dust.."

Did i hear right? Carpets? These humans are strange, they look different, they talk different. They went on and on until the old man came, made a waving gesture and said

"Okay boys, out out. It's time for me to lock the door".

"Thanks uncle."

"So we'll meet again next week? Same place?"

They all nodded in agreement.

"Okay, for starters let's make intention to come to the mosque for fajr every day".

They then got up and left. Interesting. I wonder who they were.


Unknown said...

Beautifully written.

Anonymous said...

this piece is just tooooo beautifully written, i got goosebumps in almost every line. tq!

nars said...

what a great piece. lovely.

Anonymous said...