søndag 22. september 2013

When I met the Prophet

I am fully awake. But I can see the flame, the small circle of light that emerges over my head. When I lift my head from the pillow, I have already guessed it. I know it is happening.

Oh yes! Oh no!

Outside the window stands a Buraq, a white horse with wings. Since I have been Muslim and grew up with the strangest stories, I know exactly what kind of animal that is on the patio right outside my window. As a child I was told about the Prophet's celestial journey. That he had ridden a horse with wings on the destiny night the twenty- seventh day of Ramadan. That horse had flown him from the Arabian Peninsula to Jerusalem, and thence to heaven and back home in the Arabian Peninsula, all in the same night. As little I believed in the story. When I became wiser I stopped believing in it. And now there is a buraq that stands on the patio right outside my window.

For a few days ago I suggested a mail or SMS exchange with the Prophet to ask him some important questions, but nobody should ever think that I had this scenario in one single segment in my wildest imagination!!

I grab my dark blue bathrobe and put it quickly on and jump out throw the window. When my feet are on the cold gravel, I wonder if I would bother crawling through the window again to fetch my slippers. Right next to me stands the Buraq still, and I make a quick decision. With an elegant jump, I come up on the Buraq´s back. It fans softly with the big wings and come up quickly in the air above the low buildings. Just as we fly through the first layer of clouds, I get poor visibility because of the water droplets running down my glasses all the time. I smile to myself. If I have had put on my slippers, they would just have fell off in this powerful wind and possibly landed on the highway 18. Anyhow nobody enters Paradise shuffling in slippers.

I yawn resting my head on the Buraq´s long neck and hope that the flight will not be long. Suddenly I am thrown into the air and fall hard to the ground. The dumb beast has landed in a way that can be described as anything but smooth, and now it stands two feet from me and pastures.

- Holy shit! I exclaim.
- It is forbidden to swear here.
A skinny little man with long, brown hair, a green uniform vest and pink pants stands next to me.

- Welcome to paradise! How can I help you? He asks politely.
I get up and tighten the robe´ belt around my waist. It has come loose during the flight. Then I say I have an appointment with the Prophet Mohammad.
The man makes a gesture by bending his knees and snapping his fingers. A bus appears out of nothing. I go on board and hear the man shouting to the bus driver: "level 5 ". She nods, go in gear and starts driving before I have set down, so I fall down in the aisle. Half cursed I get my ass finally down on the seat .
- I'm damn good at driving! The driver says, and turns abruptly with the wheel. I can barely avoid a new fall and take a hard grip on the metal pipe in front of me.
- What is the speed limit, I ask hesitantly. She laughs out laud.
- Speed ​​limit in paradise! For an amusing specimen of the human race! She exclaims and runs into a narrow road with trees on both sides. The bus bumps on gravel road until it stops and the door is opened.
- Thank you! I say and hurry out. She gases before she releases the brake, the bus flies off and a thick cloud of dust covers me. For a few seconds I can´t see as far as my nose. When the dust cloud lifts, I look around.

Now I am on level 5 in paradise. I have stayed long enough on this planet to understand that the legal arm is not long enough to reach here. It's really quite logical. The last thing you want after a long life on the earth is traffic laws. So it is about getting out of this place soon, hopefully in good condition.

When I have gone a little further, I see a river. By the color and smell to judge it´s wine, red wine. On the other side of the river a middle-aged man sits on a white bench. Since he is the only person within reach, I must go to him. I dip my big toe into the wine and judge that it maintains a comfortable temperature. Fortunately, it´s shallow, and I can wade in the red wine to the other stream. When I stand in front of the man, the wine runs in thin streams of the edge of my robe.

- Salam, I am here to meet the Prophet Mohammad, I say.
He lifts his head slowly, looking friendly to me and with a wink he asks me to sit down on the bench beside him.
- What can I do for you? He asks, and I suddenly realize that he is the prophet and I jump off the bench.
The prophet does not seem to be bothered by my shock reaction. He just sits quietly with his hands in his lap.
- You know, they were many, very many, he says. - When I came to paradise there was seventy women per one man. Each of my men had the seventy women against him, and I had my thirteen wives as well. We had no chance at all!
He was silent for a moment.
- The worst thing is, I had myself to blame. The seventy virgins was my idea.
I sit down on the bench again. It seems that the Prophet needs my company. He must have been sitting lonely for a long time with his hands in his lap.

The prophet lands in paradise in year 632. He is prepared for a large-scale welcoming feast. Instead, two uniformed women put handcuffs on him. Trial starts pretty quickly for achieving justice. The main accusation against him is that he had made ​​defamatory claims against women. The prosecutor reads a hadith from Sahih al - Bukhari, Book 06, classified under the theme "menstrual bleeding."

Allah's Apostle was on his way to the mosque to pray. He met a group of women on the way there and said, "Oh, women, give alms, for I have seen that the majority of the residents of hell fire was of you (women)." They asked, "Why is it so, Messenger of Allah?” He replied, "You curse frequently and are ungrateful to your husbands. I have not seen anyone more deficient in intelligence and religion than you. You can lead the most cautious, sensible man astray. "Women asked, "Messenger of Allah! What is deficient in our intelligence and religion?" He said," Are not two women's testimony equals one man?" They replied in the affirmative. He said: "This is proof of the lack of intelligence. Is not it true that a woman can neither pray nor fast during her menses? "The women replied in the affirmative. He said: "This is proof of the lack in her religion."

The female prosecutor reads the last sentence, puts the thick folder on the desk, looking in a challenging manner at the defendant and asks with a steady voice:
- What is the background for the practice of testimony? Why does two women's testimony count as one man´s testimony?
- My own law, the prophet replies.
- So you think that the evidence of your claim that women are stupid is that you think they are stupid? She asks.
 - What is the reason behind the prohibition for women to pray and fast during the menses? Some mental hurdle?!
The prophet can guess in what direction this goes, and stays silent. The judge, who is also a woman, judges him to a long stay in isolation.

And here he sits, and I sit next to him and look at my toes.
- Excuse me, I'm so cold, my feet are cold, maybe I …I mean I really am obliged to leave you now, unfortunately, I say the whole sentence and stand up.
- It´s always 27.5 degrees here. Are you really cold? He asks.
- I´m just like that, I... Thanks for the meeting! I say and slope rapidly over the plain.
It was not the fierce feminist battle anyway I had planned. A bench. The story of a court case and a disillusioned old man. And now I am in some place and I wonder if there is any communication of any type that goes in one direction or another, and…
Ææææh !

I scream coherent the whole way down. I fall through a hole, maybe down to level 4?
There is a slight jerk of the body and I end up on my bed.
The mobile phone is on the table beside the bed. I press it, the screen lights up and I can see that it´s 5:40 o´cock. I find my slippers, take them on and drag my feet to the living room. While the water is boiling, I pour coffee in the press pot and hear the day's first newscast. The bourgeois party leaders are still in negotiations. No leaks have come out yet. Germany has a valium-election where nothing exciting is said or done. Everybody has taken valium there. Egyptians should consider this method. Zlatan has done it again. Ha has scored just 26 seconds into the game.