Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia                      

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

Brothers and Sisters in the Old Town speaking the words Salamu Alaikum

Sisters wearing veils with colors like in the bright rainbow appearing before me and my two new friends from Bosnia in a sky above a bussling bazaar, there a smaller group of humans watching and a larger group of tourists capturing a rare moment in Sarajevo on photo

Many brothers wearing kufis and many brothers with trendy hair styles paired with Western outfits gathering in the courtyard of Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque, the largest in Bosnia and sixteen centuries old. Tourists from Africa, America, Europe, and other landscapes and many locals exchanging words and gestures in a month better than a thousand

Families spending time together at the Grand Mosque and at smaller mosques and in other places surrounded by picturesque hills and green plush trees

A father, a mother, their toddler son...he practicing walking on a masjid's cobblestone, and their young daughter...she smiling at her father as he walks by. Each family member physically at a distance from each other. Each family member at a cell's distance in communion with each other.

In the mid afternoon on a Ramadan's day, a sister from Munich and I having met for the first time at Bey Mosque ride together in a taxi up a steep hill to see a guest house she knows

A smell of lingering cigarette smoke permeating the air within the house so thick beckons me to leave politely and quickly. Unaware of the smell's degree, the owner learns of its' offensiveness as I disclose my sensitivity to & the dislike of the smell of cigarette smoke, both acutely heightened while fasting

Careful steps back down the steep hill to the city center, me avoiding stumbling on a large rock or being runover by a speeding automobile, interestingly instead I stumble upon a beautiful grave yard of uniquely shaped white gravestones and a charming mosque with a high minaret

At the bottom of the hill sits a crafts and artistry shop, one of many in Sarajevo's Old Town. Upon entering and a brief conversation with the owner, a piece of generosity is handed to me, a square shape piece of wood with Ayat tul Kursi in hand calligraphy

During the late afternoon hours, a time for reading Quran by many at mosques in the city. Sisters and brothers sitting on carpeted floors, some with backs supported by mosque walls, some with bodies sitting in chairs, fasters occupied with the most perfected Divine Scripture

A brief leisurely stroll with my two new friends Dzenita and her sister Amina through part of the Bazaar, they sharing opinions of their favorite restaurants, best eating experiences, and other things

In the early evening, a time to buy food to prepare for the Iftar meal. Showing me how it's done in Sarajevo, Dzenita and Amina invite me to join them on an excursion up a hill to buy Somun, a Bosnian flatbread topped with black seeds from the city's famous bread maker. Standing in a line longer than Georgetown Cupcake, Dzenita surprises me with a gift of Somun for myself

Two dates, one cube of Bosnian delight, and one cup of water to break our fast with at the Bey Mosque. A canon bomb sounds off to announce the time for Magrib prayer and Iftar, customary in Sarajevo during Ramadan

Startled and alerted by the bomb's depth and volume, I stand up to join the congregation for communion with God, The God Most Gracious, Most High

Out of nowhere I'm invited to Iftar at a shop nearby the Grand Mosque, about 8 of us guests being served by the warm owner, she offering a meal for Iftar at her shop every night during Ramadan, a big-hearted tradition of hers

Cevapi, Cevapi, Cevapi...I'll say it once more, Cevapi -- sold in Bosnian restaurants, cafes, bazaars, and made in many homes, eaten happily by many fasters at Iftar. Served with freshly chopped onions, some served with a soft white cheese, some with a red peppery sauce, many served with Somun, all ways tried by me and tasting as scrumptious as my first experience with Cevapi in Germany, then falling in love with it

Cold winds at night from the surrounding mountains, a refreshing air yet taking my breath and power away from the chill of it, completely disappearing with my start of Isha prayer with other Muslims and the declaration "Allah hu Akbar"

9 Muftis with impeccable Tajweed each taking turns to recite the words of our Grand Lord before sunrise, me weeping from God's messages, the reality of His greatness, my servitude to Him, and a recognition of sounds similar to that of my Mumin Father's, those familiar to me since birth

Three dear sisters, university students from Turkey and I journey together on foot after Fajr from the Old Mosque to a street train, along the way stopping by a community center, our destination - their home an hour or so away to rest, the four of us coming to know each other and each others' thoughts with every step. Contempleting my desire to spend more time in the city over sleep, the three sisters showing great generosity and I embrace and exchange Salams at a stop near the main station, the three walking with me to an open place before continuing on

In the land of a marriage between the East and the West and where newspaper is used to clean a cafe window, on the list of to-dos -- shopping for gifts for family and for souvenirs, window shopping done along the way, asking myself Shall I buy a Dzezva, a hand-made Bosnian coffee set, or a vintage wood Sarajevo box, or a woven wallet, or Bosnian sweets.

In a bazaar walkway, Maher Zain's song "Ramadan" playing loudly. At another moment, lyrics about a month of devotion and sacrifice from Sami Yusuf echoeing. Shop owners in Old Town with dispositions of calm and quiet grace greeting me and others cordially and respectfully. Shopping a few hours more until near sunset for post cards with a real version of the Grand Mosque, finding only less than satisfactory versions. Time running out for shopping, another reason now to return to Bosnia, God-Willing

Magrib prayer a second night at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque. Observing the crowd, a striking occurrence taking place, a teenage boy walking a small length behind a man on to the mosque carpet. There the boy approaches an older man giving him a respectful hand shake. After prayer, a native of Sarajevo shares with me in wholesome conversation, "You are known in the town not by what you have. You are known by how well you behave."

Another invitation, this time for a cup of a tea at a cafe. Overflowing with people mostly young adults, men and women sitting at tightly packed small tables inside and a few outside, conversations merging into each other with a loud volume flowing throughout, Shisha being smoked by some, cigarettes by some, smoke in the air and the temperature inside melting away heavy make-up on sisters' faces. "This is Ramadan in Sarajevo." Madia says. "One aspect of it." says I. Not having a good feeling right away when walking in and not wanting to stay, the two of us leave quickly.

My two new friends Dzenita and Amina aka angels of hospitality and kindness reciprocating my gift to them of Milka chocolate give me a gift before departing the next day. "Tespih!!" A burnt red and yellow colored set with sparkingly gold thinly cut wrapping paper looking stripes purchased at the Gazi Husrev-Bey Mosque gift shop. Not knowing then I collect Tesbih, their gift is now my most favorite of my Tesbih collection

Husbands and wives, men and women both young and old, well-groomed and well-dressed, some holding hands as they stroll through narrow pathways in the Old Town on a Ramadan's night. Families talking and eating at restaurants, friends in groups sharing laughs, so much to see, so much to experience. At a cafe where baked goods, ice cream, and other sweets are sold, a lady sitting with a group of others initiates speaking to me, stopping me in my tracks. Bidding me farewell, she extends me a gracious compliment

Ramadan 2017 in Sarajevo, Bosnia to Remember

The first day and the second

What a blessing!!!

by Najwa Kareem

Gabriel asked the Prophet
'read', prophet who God crowned with a prophethood
of being last
replied 'I cannot read'
Prophet wrapped himself with a warm blanket
Khadija the prophet's true love said
You are God's chosen one
since you are all sincere, honest
and never do wrong to His people.

this, what is wrong with today's people
never seeking to learn
or read
knowing they know everything.
so they can **** anyone
in the name of God
they **** innocent people
and yet, the response is
'we **** infidel's
who are the infidels?
You and i are not God
It is for the God to decide
who's the most kind of all

The Sunni Muslims have a story to tell they're better than shia Muslims
and shia' have defensive tale to say, 'they are less honored one'
it's all politicized matters
not the religion
the crusades of islam is not about religion
but the gaining of power
who's going to lead after the Prophet's  death?

even the prophet himself narrated 'he's mere human being
who God blessed with might

God says, love thee people
as I love you the best
I'm closest to you, even more closer to your own heartbeat
no other will love you, as i how love you

I felt the longingness
this hunger, and the strike to do well in life
even though, i no longer am with people
who i thought to be my people
it feels so odd and out of place
most of the time
since i can't begin to tell
how truly i feel

i learned to unlearn
my roots, and inheritance
how hard it is, to defy
what you knew for your entire life

I learned to be with people, without needing them
and saying, 'goodbye's, when I didn't want to
since nothing is real
nobody is here for real
only the matters, and interactions with each other
will define
the true identities of us

it doesn't hold true to people, who share Islamic faith
but, the Christianity, Hinduism, or Judaism
or another religion
in any other region of the world

As of my utterance, i don't trust people with establishments
and people, running the show

In Pakistan, the land where i was born
nobody cares for anyone, whether they leave
or stay
even if somebody dies
people stay inhumane, insensitive about most of the things
but the focus is too much on religion
even the moral conduct
is not so right

At the edge of my state, when i utter this i feel erked
and awkward
low in spirits or perhaps
i don't feel anything, at all.

When the Abraham was asked to 'sacrifice'
his beloved son, 'Ismail'
he without defying
obliged to Gods will
God, in his dutiful obedience
replace Ismail with a lamb
to fulfill the traditions, Muslims each year
follow the Abrahams traditions
when people slaughter million of animals
in name of God which has merely became a mockery
of 'sacrifice'

The day i left my house, i felt truly abandon
and so, the time when i left my friend's house
who i visited only before leaving
I thought to myself, this will never be filled
and it didn't
even after many years afterward
I stand in my nomadic spirit
without owning anything
or have anything in mind, to occupy anything

This world, as i see
is a mere transition period
where we meet people
of all race, and kinds
from all regions , and faith
but it doesn't give us any upper or lower hand
to justify anything, whatever we feel
or think.

As it is not for me to decide
or others to judge,
by other people's religion, or region
color, race, kind

There is no place in Quran that says, hate people
from other religion
nor it says, to defend your faith
when people attack you.
The rising Islamphobia and hatred
for the muslims,
in response, all the muslims could say,
'Islam is a religion of peace'
a defensive approach, again and again
not wiling to understand
it's not for you to defend your religion
your faith doesn't need you, it's you, who needs it
for your own purity, to perserve the innocence
and the feeling for others
when others fail to do

God says, 'Surely there are signs in this
for those of you who would reflect'
to me, its a comforting zone
I derive my pleasure in this
but there are so many people out there, interpreting the verses
in their own perspectives.

Upon the reasons, i feel it's necessary to challenge yourself
your mind, your readings
learnings
inheritances
wisdom and all the knowledge you acquired over the years

we don't acquire knowledge in order to boost
but to be better,
and to understand the reasons

I was named by the 'Moons light, that means moonlight which is poetic
and referred as 'beautiful'
I am not sure who named me, as i remember my childhood
a very quiet, deserted and lonely one
it wasn't tragic but disturbed


I have erased my memory and the corners of heart, that used to feel mighty heavy
for so many things
the betrayals, insincere
and lack of resistance shown by people
i left everything behind me

When Ishaq's sons took Yusuf
he cried most of his times, till the point
he lost his sight which he regained by seeing Yusuf's
he was betrayed by his own brothers
only to gain their father's attention
they tricked Yusuf
which he survived regardless

the betrayals are hard to forgive or even remove
and the cultural hindrances, resistant obstacles

it's been a while since i felt home
anywhere
and even when I'm home
i feel the distant memory of my own self
which was innocent

I'm Mahwish, and it means 'beautiful like moonlight
my life will reflect the meaning of my name, someday
and till then
I continue to live.