Very soon my new book ‘Geckos & Guns: The Pakistan Years’ will be available at Booklocker.com and at online retailers. While you are waiting in anticipation, I would like to relate (in a series of blogs) some special experiences that didn’t make it into the book.
The featured image for this blog post is the architecturally stunning Faisal Mosque in Islamabad. In the early 90s there were many mosques in this relatively small city. Every day, five times a day, the call to prayer echoed across neighbourhoods–haunting Arabic recitations intoned from the minarets by gifted muezzins.
When our family first arrived in Islamabad we had a difficult time getting used to (what we thought of) as loudspeaker intrusions, especially first thing in the morning when we were still half asleep. But, gradually, we came to accept it as part of our everyday life.
One day we realized that we had come to love these deeply spiritual chants that sent vibrations through us, body and soul. The call to prayer had become interwoven with the warm sun, verdant Margalla hills, and the brilliant purple blossoms of the Jacaranda trees.
To this day, when I watch a movie with the strains of the call to prayer in the background my heart soars. I am immediately transported back to my Pakistan years.