The Call

The blackberry vibrates again!

Oh it’s raining outside, isn't it? I didn't bother to go out for lunch and now this? Come on! Allah will understand. I attempt to give myself an excuse.

Hmmm, not a good excuse Farhan. Get up! Now! It will take 10 minutes, no more.

I pick up my blackberry and turn the auto popup off on the Salat software that I have set to vibrate instead of saying the Azaan loud. I had downloaded it and set it to play the Azaan without checking the volume and the first time it went off was quite a moment of embarrassment in the office.

Phone starts to sound something. Don’t know what it is. It’s getting louder. “Allaaaah u Akbar…..Allaaahh…..” Pick up phone, press the biggest button and hope for it to stop. No! It won’t stop! Oh my! Stop! STOP please!

Nah. Phones don’t listen to verbal requests. OK. Unlock phone. What was my password? Umm yeah! 234234, OK. Shux! That’s not it! Oh Ya Allah! Help me! That’s it! H.E.L.P.M.E….OK. Phew! This was only going to get worse.

Back live. I push my chair back, but it refuses to move, wheels stuck where they were, instead tilting back to an angle where I nearly fall backwards. Oh! Wowowow! Oooh! I recover. Who saw it? Did anyone see it? I look over my shoulder. No one saw it. Thank God! I stand up. Turn around. Natalia is smiling at me. I know why. I smile back and act like nothing happened. Good! That’s the confidence that got me the job. I can make this work, I tell myself. Falling flat on the back of my seat would have made me look like a complete idiot, not to forget hurt like something even worse. Should I take my shoes off? No need to, probably. But why else did I bring the thongs (slippers for Non Aussie readers) to work? Ok, just do it Farhan. Sit down. No one’s watching. Your feet are under the table anyway. Slip them off. Socks too!

I shove them in a corner under my table where they are hardly visible. Now to walk to the door with these thongs on. OK…1,2,3….Quick march. No! No arm movement, you goose! Just take it easy, it’s not a parade! Calm down, breathe. Look around in a carefree manner. Yes that’s the way. Out the door! Woohoo! Did I bring my keys and swipecard? Oh no! where is it? Oh, thank God its in here, I think to myself while tapping my pockets.

The wait for the lift is always a nervous time. Sometimes you want others to take the same life as yours. That’s usually the time you are afraid the lift will get stuck in the middle of floors. You don’t want to die alone. Most times, you wish your fellow passenger or should they be called “liftrider”, would be a pretty woman. But that’s a whole different blog.
Today is not one of those days. Today I want no one else coming out of any other doors for the lift. I do not want anyone to be in the lift when I take it. Gosh my toes are hairy! What the heck happened to them? What do I need to do to fix them? I can’t shave them, can I? Oh this is so embarrassing!
The lift arrives. Open sesame. Not one, but two girls from the marketing department! Oh my! Its that cute one with the big belt. I wonder why she always wears that belt. Maybe the undertaker gave it to her? Maybe she’s his daughter? No way. She’s way too cute for that. Is she looking at my feet? Is she admiring my shiny new thongs or is she actually looking at the hairy toes coming out of them? No God no! Why did she have to be in here? Stop moving your toes Farhan. What a nightmare!
Get out of the lift, turn right and hope no one’s occupying the access toilets. Finally, something’s gone my way. The toilets are vacant so I walk in and make sure I lock them up nice and good. Roll up the sleeves and pants. This is my time. I calm down like I was at home. The process of performing Ablution (The Islamic practice of Wudu before Prayer) is a real stress reliever and it “cleanses my aura” in a way to make me feel totally oblivious to my problems with the loudness of the azaan, inertia of the chair, amusement of the co worker, briskness of my walk, nerves of waiting, the hairiness of my toes, the size of the cute girl’s belt and her glance towards my new thongs. Its as if all of that did not even happen.
“I bear witness that there is no deity worthy of worship but Allah and I bear witness that Muhammad – Peace and Blessings be upon him – is the final Messenger and servant of Allah”

I get back into the lift after using the Paper towels in the toilets to dry my neck, arms and face. My feet are still wet. I should have dried them too. Once on my floor, I get out and go straight into the men’s room and use the paper towels to get rid of the moisture from my feet but more importantly the “Squish…squish” of the thongs. Mission accomplished.

Enter the office again. Did anyone notice I was missing? Nope. Has anyone noticed I’m wearing thongs? Nah! No one cares! Hmmm. No one cares? Seriously? Surely someone should. I slip on my socks and shoes and pick up my belongings. Asking them if anyone wants anything from the convenience store, I move towards the door. Jonno decides to join me on my trip down to take his Smoko. Nice! I’ve got a mate now. Surely my break is not that bad or unacceptable because he is going too. I exit the building to the right as he lights one up. “Faaharn!” he says. “That’s the seven-eleven, just there!”. I tell him I like to go to the convenience store ten shops down and start my fast paced walk.

Entering the back of the convenience store, I forget my worries and my only concern is Allah. I think of work matters, I think of my future, I think of things going from bad to worse in Pakistan where my parents are and I think of the Charity work I want to do. But all of those distractions bring me back to my Allah. Allah, my sole helper, the giver, the merciful, the forgiver. I pray for forgiveness for my digressions in prayer and leave the prayer room in a protective bubble. Its as if I have no worries in the world. I make sure I don’t burst this bubble; I indulge in zikr on my way back.

Would my boss notice my absence? What would he say? Oh I might get into trouble for this. My Allah will help me, I reassure myself. I turn the corner and see Jonno, cigarette in one hand and a coffee mug in another. What a bludger! I think to myself. Surely if he can do this, I’m fine.
Back in the office I get to my desk with a memo on my keyboard with a message from my boss to finish an urgent task. I get right down to it and finish it studiously. There’s a reason for this. My protective bubble gives me more enthusiasm to perform better. I have to work harder to prove my time at prayers was not a waste. Jonno walks in ten minutes later, and the boss notices him at which time he unleashes his customary brand of butter and flattery upon the main man. They discuss the suits they are wearing, the concert he went to on Saturday and the rain this morning. Everything but work being mentioned drowns away the indiscretions of my cappuccino sipping, tobacco smelling workmate who is just too good to be caught. Not my problem I tell myself.

“See you all tomorrow”, I say to them just before swiping my card to get out. My boss tells me to wait. He joins me in the lift and mentions my absence in the late afternoon for about fifteen minutes. “I go for afternoon prayers around three, it only takes ten to fifteen minutes” I say to him. “How many days do you have to do it?” he asks.
5 times a day, 365 days a year. His eyes open wide and so do his lips with a smile. “That’s a lot of commitment Faahran, sorry Furr-Haan was it?” Yes, Fur like the coats, Han, like Hahn as in that german beer name. Farhan. I do my favourite phonetics speech. “Takes lesser time than a Cigarette and coffee I have calculated”, I say to him, tongue in cheek. He nods and asks me how a Prayer could be effective if your mind is not really into it. I have thought about this I know. My mind wanders as I gesture goodbye to him. How could it be effective, if my mind is elsewhere? Would Allah accept? Why do I pray? The protective bubble that surrounds me, is that a benefit? Are there more benefits?
Then I remember the words of a very wise man. A wise “Baba ji” I call him. His granddaughter asked why she had to wake up and pray Fajr (Pre dawn prayer) when her heart was not in it.

“Because, my lovely child”, he whispered, “a medicine works both ways. It works when you have it with a smile on your face and when you take it while you cringe, like you would a bitter pill. Its just better if you smile. That way you are happier on your way to health.”