[TRUE STORY]: Last Saturday's Evening Incident

Last Saturday’s evening, I decided to meet my friend who lives in the next neighbourhood to cycle and play badminton together. Usually I’d call her in advance if I want to see her but that day, she couldn’t be contacted. I decided to just cycle to her house but on the way to my friend’s house, suddenly I remembered that I promised my grandma to see her for a while. My grandma lives in the apartment residence in the same neighbourhood as mine. It was already past 6.15 pm when I arrived at her house. Apparently, she wasn’t in her house so I just went to my friend’s house.

I called her to tell that I was already in front of her house but it went to voicemail after no one answered my salam. In frustration, I cycled to a spot where I could see the beautiful sunset. Suddenly, my phone rang and it was from my friend, she told me that she was in Cameron Highland and she was on her way back home.

It was too late already, almost the time for maghrib prayer. I cycled back using a shortcut to my house, through apartment residence, I saw a very cute puppy, aged probably 1-2 months. I approached it to… take a picture of it of course! It was running around, I thought it was lost or someone had just thrown it away. As I approached the puppy, it ran to the bushes near to the road. Then I saw its owner. He was an Indian man, probably at his early fifty. He walked towards me and then the puppy followed him.

“Is it a male or female, uncle?” “Male” “He’s so adorable, you bought it, uncle?” “Yeah, yeah.” “How much was it?” “140 Ringgit”.

I asked him these questions like I was interested to have a puppy, which I think yes, a puppy would be a great companion but of course, to think until that extent is a bit overrated.

When we were talking, my eyes caught something in his right hand. It was tasbeeh, made of ninety-nine wooden or plastic beads, for zikir, remembrance to the Almighty Allah. His tasbeeh was made of plastic beads. I also saw a few other trinkets and necklaces around his wrinkled neck.

“You’re a Muslim, uncle?” Truth be told, I haven’t hold tasbeeh, or zikir for a very long time. I have been so liberal these days. What a slap on my face.

“Yes, yes I am. You don’t believe me?”

I kept silent, half smiled but he knew that I didn’t believe the fact that he is a Muslim so he took out his wallet from his trousers’ pocket and showed me his identity card and also a revert Muslim verification card, which I am sure is not fake. I saw the date he reverted to Islam, it was in May 2010, but I couldn’t catch the day.

“Oh, awesome.” I told him.

“I feel so isolated by the Muslims here. When I go to the mosque, ask the people there to teach me about Islam, teach me to pray, they say just follow them. Some people also don’t like me to be in the mosque. They say I am a keling paria. They say I want sympathy, just because I look like one. I feel so hurt.”

“Oh that shouldn’t happen, uncle. That’s not nice of them. I wouldn’t do that to new sisters or brothers in Islam.”

“So I just practice Islam alone,” he said while calling his puppy named Jackie to him. It was surprising that I didn’t judge him about him petting a dog. If I were to be here, two years back, I would probably have cursed him. I’m so glad and thankful that I can accept a lot of things now. I am more open-minded.

“Is your wife a Muslim too?” I asked.

“No, but she likes Islam too. But… it’s complicated.” He answered while lighting up a cigarette.

“I see… but uncle, those people really shouldn’t treat you like that. Believe me uncle, not all Muslims are like that. It’s okay uncle, I will pray for you that Allah will help you.”

“Ya, ya. Hopefully. But I ask you what, if I were to rape one Malay(Muslim) girl in this neighbourhood, will the people accept me? Teach me and guide me to Islam?”

Jackie.

I was very shocked with his question. I was started to feel a bit afraid and uncomfortable. I stepped back, went further from him, nearer to my bicycle. He was petting Jackie.

“No, uncle, no. If you do that, people will even hate you more and your life will be damned.”

“Ya ah?”

I nodded. I was already on my bicycle, ready to go.

“Uncle, I go first. It’s almost azan.”

“Okay, okay.”

I cycled as fast as I could to home. In my mind, things like this shouldn’t happen at all. I really hope that all Muslims are nice to everyone… especially those who are interested in Islam.

One day, it will change. InshaAllah.