This poem is a manifestation of the possibility of a common light, which could be attained when truth is perceived and understood with a small “t” and not a capital one “T”. In describing the truth, I intend to describe islam, and in that, I am pointing to islam with a small i and not a capital one. This understanding eliminates a superior ownership to truth and allows for a wider platform\u00a0where it can be relative and subjective and still be worthwhile and true. In the light of that, we can see how throughout our course we have engaged in several moments with islam as an inclusive way of life rather than a dominating inclusive religion. I believe\u00a0this can be attained particularly by removing the materialistic incentives that have been highly associated with Islam and other religions, such as the concept of heaven and hell, a shrine, the 72 virgins, the rivers of wine…etc. And as it is mentioned in narrations:\u00a0\u201cOne day Rabia was seen running with fire in one hand and water in the other. They asked her why she was doing this and where she was going. She replied, \u201cI am running to light a fire in Heaven and to pour water on the flames of Hell, so that both veils to the Face disappear forever.\u201d<\/p>\n
An inclusive islam is an experience that can be found within and not outside of oneself, for it is a human experience and we are all humans, daughters and sons of time, living in the moment, and forming our own interpretations and narratives, his story, her story, and mine.<\/p>\n
This poem can be understood as an extension to the cultural studies approach, which emphasizes Donna Haraway’s Situated Knowledges<\/em>, a concept I also argue for in a sense that our experiences should be credited and found truthful even when they don’t comply with the majority. In an attempt to symbolize this, I begin by stating that the human heart, which encompass the experiences, stories, and understandings are larger than the earths and skies. However, in my conclusion, I\u00a0signal\u00a0the human call, that is found in a light, and this light is mutual,\u00a0and to those who walk in the darkness of the tunnel, it could seem impossible, but to those who look inwards in that darkness, it will\u00a0shine bright.<\/p>\n —–<\/p>\n If the earths and skies did not fit God<\/p>\n The human heart has always had<\/p>\n In every breath, I am a \u201cdaughter of time\u201d<\/p>\n Of God\u2019s glory<\/p>\n And of the human story<\/p>\n Of his story, her story, and mine<\/p>\n —–<\/p>\n In life<\/p>\n A quest for love<\/p>\n Don\u2019t you worry<\/p>\n A language delivered to you in the womb<\/p>\n Not at all tough<\/p>\n One, which requires no words<\/p>\n A state of mind, an open heart<\/p>\n A blossom in the hand<\/p>\n —–<\/p>\n Let there be no halal or haram<\/p>\n Neither hell nor heavens<\/p>\n Look inside, for these elements are within<\/p>\n Not outside of you<\/p>\n In every depth<\/p>\n Through every human<\/p>\n You\u2019ll find a clue<\/p>\n —–<\/p>\n Only when we burn heaven and turn off the fire in hell<\/p>\n Will we be able to do good deeds without awaited benefits<\/p>\n For what is better than to love for the loved<\/p>\n To give, for the needy<\/p>\n To rescue, for the drowned<\/p>\n And to be a messenger of God on the ground<\/p>\n To let go of the virgins<\/p>\n To dry your body from the pools of wine<\/p>\n To believe in God<\/p>\n Without a spell, a verse, or a shrine<\/p>\n —–<\/p>\n Nothing and all, a human call<\/p>\n Let the body stir along a single drumming pattern<\/p>\n With the lights of this temple<\/p>\n The candles in your church<\/p>\n And the lanterns in my mosque<\/p>\n A source of light<\/p>\n The end of the tunnel lies out of sight<\/p>\n So look inwards and it will shine bright<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" This poem is a manifestation of the possibility of a common light, which could be attained when truth is perceived and understood with a small “t” and not a capital one “T”. In describing the truth, I intend to describe islam, and in that, I am pointing to islam with a small i and not […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6281,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-75","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/75","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6281"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=75"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/75\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":121,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/75\/revisions\/121"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=75"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=75"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/fatimatullah\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=75"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}