Ok, as most Muslims know and others need to understand, during Ramadan, we do not sleep well. Aside from fasting sun up to sun down (no food, no drink and no other carnal pleasures), we stay in the mosque into the wee hours of the night in prayer and then wake around 4:00 am for suhoor (a meal and water to give us energy for the day), pray fajr around 5:00 am (I say “around” because it depends on where you live in the world). Our sleep is either broken up. limited or extended into the day. This opens the door for some unique dreams.
Some where between coming home from the mosque and suhoor, I dozed off. I found myself running down the sidewalk, dodging and whipping my body through the droves of people touring the city. I am trying to get away from some crazed Muslim man telling me he needs me. I run hard, pausing to take off my shoes, resume… feet pounding the pavement. No fear, just disgusted by him.
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I keep my eye open on what is far ahead of me, so i know which way to zig or zag to traverse the crowds. I spy at the end of the sidewalk, before the curb cuts off for the crossing street, a relief for my exhausted body. A lamp post. The stalker is still running after me saying he loves niqab and loves me. I am not wearing a niqab.
I approach the square where the lamp post sits and pick up speed, run up on the side of the building adjacent to it and arch my back with arms above my head… leap. I catch the arch of the lamp post and as I did when I was a kid on the swing set, push my legs up through my arms to sit on top.
I rest and wait for the man to catch up. He stands under my feet and again tells me that he needs me. I tell him that I am not interested. A man standing near him asks him why he is bothering me; that he should leave me alone. The Muslim looks at him and says, “shut up kafir, it is not your business.” He then says again that he loves niqab and loves me.
“I do not love niqab.”
“You munafiq!” (hypocrite)
“I do not care what you think of me.”
“You haram woman…trash like garbage I take out.”
“Then leave me alone.”
“You even sunni?”
“I am a Muslim. I am a thinker, not a blind follower.”
“You stupid. You just want to follow the kafir. Haram!!”
More people gather, telling him to leave me alone. He is rude and hateful. We continue to argue. After being pushed to give what kind of Muslim I am, I tell him that I am Sufi, as in orthodox Muslim. He is beyond pissed at that statement and tries to climb up the lamp post, but fortunately his arms are too short to grasp around and get a good grip.
Two other Muslim men run over from across the street after spotting me and hearing the racket we are making. They ask me what is going on. I tell them about the insane man. They too talk to him and ask him to leave me alone. He banters with them about how I must be stopped; expounding that I am not a real Muslim.
The crowd has grown, listening to our debate over Islam. The crazed man is not giving any proof to what he has to say, except “his sheikh says.” He says he is a salafi. His anger is growing and he is becoming more aggressive and violent, pushing the non Muslims and Muslims out of his way. Then dry lightening strikes, hitting the lamp post I am sitting on. It sizzles and the blue-hued light dances up and down the post and under my rear end. I am not affected, but one bolt streams out of the bubbling light and strikes the maniac just when the rain begins to pour down.
He falls back hard on the concrete. We all pause for a second, I had to think “did I just make dua (prayer) for him to be struck by lightening?” I flip over the arch I had been sitting on and jump down. I begin CPR. One of the other Muslims tells me he will do the breaths. I continue the chest compressions until I tire and the other Muslim takes over. The people who had been standing around, sit down in the rain, as if the shock of what they just witnessed was too much for them; some hold their hands out to the rain praying.
It was a strange dream. I know that dreams have hidden meanings, but I know this one was probably more induced by sleep deprivation… or is it that sleep deprivation allows the hidden meanings to surface out of our subconscious.