Ten years ago last night and around about this time of EST I was folding my Sajada over the arm of a big orange lounge chair. My son was in bed. My wife was in the kitchen. I had finished my prayer to Allah and I turned on the news. The news didn’t answer my prayer.
Dear Allah,
I Still Love You.
Brad.
[podcast with my somewhat dated Indonesian Arabic... here]
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cat stevens bird
Yusuf Islam
That brings back an unexpected memory Kathi. I didn’t choose an Islamic name for myself. I took the name my Son gave me.
Dada.
:) Thank you.
that dada and this .
good name of heritage
I’d like to know the story, Brad. Maybe one day? Maybe that’s too big an ask – how about a story, or part of the story?
Well… Grandma reckoned I had a book in me. She said a little birdie told her so. :)