This post is dated December 6, 2007
“Everything built by the hands of man on this earth is a living proof
of the existence of the One God. Do I not strive to preserve it?”
These words are not my own, but none I could write would better serve
to describe my sentiments on this, the blackest of days as considered
by many. Eons have prepared for and led to a single defining moment. It
takes the amalgamated effort of the centuries of history behind my
country, the decades of history behind my people, and the years of
history behind me, to understand, in this moment, that it is not a mere
structure or place or even memory that roots me to something. It is all
in me, an intangible, eternal, unseeing faith.
After all, in the
words of Shakespeare, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and
women merely players.” She who truly wishes to address her God in
prayer may bring down her forehead on any inch of this planet and call
it a mosque.
No built form is eternal. Preservation is but to delay
the natural process of decay, to hold for a while longer in reality
what will forever be held in memory. Contrarily, deliberate
annihilation is the erasure of that creation, which, apart from the
demolition of what was tangible, stains it in memory forever.
To quote again, “Is there another mortal standing in this perspective?”
And to answer, perhaps very late, but not too late, and in fact, at a very suitable time, yes.