Voice of Palestine

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Thanks: Daily Mirror

அழுத்தமாய்....

தெரிந்தோ தெரியாமலோ
நீயோ நானோ
அழுந்திப் பிடித்த
உணர்வின் வெளிப்பாடோ
வரம்புகளின் மையக் கோடோ
ஏதோ ஒன்று
அழுத்தமாய் வரைந்துவிட்டுச்
சென்றது
உனக்கும் எனக்குமான
இடைவெளியை.......

EID MUBARAK!

 Thakbballallau Minha Waminkum!

ஒரு தந்தையின் கடிதம்

I published this because I liked the beauty of expression and the gravity of the essence….

Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president of the united states of America (1861 – 1865) is one of the world’s great statesmen for all time. Here is a letter written by Abraham Lincoln to the head master of his school in which his son was studying, a letter so typical of the man who bore malice towards none and had charity for all.

• He will have to learn, I know, that all men are not just, all men are not true. But teach him also that for every scoundrel there is a hero: that far every selfish politician, there is a dedicated leader…
• Teach him that for every enemy there is a friend. It will take time, I know a long time, but teach, if you can, that a dollar earned is of more value then five of found.
• Teach him, to learn to lose…And also to enjoy winning. Steer him away from envy, if you can, teach in the secret of quiet laughter.
• Teach him, if you can the wonder of books…But also given quiet time wonder the eternal mystery of birds in the sky, bees in the sun, and flowers on the green hillside.
• In a school teach him, it is far more honorable to fail than to cheat…
• Teach him to have faith in his own idea, even if anyone else tell him they are wrong…
• Teach him to be gentle with gentle people and tough with tough.
• Teach him to listen to all men…But teach him also to filter all he hears on a screen of truth, and take only the good one that comes through.
• Teach him, if you can, how to laugh when he is sad. Teach him there is no shame in tear.
• Teach them to sell his brawn and brain to the highest bidder but never to put a prize tag on his heart and soul.
• Teach him gently, but do not cuddle him, because only the test of fire makes the fine steel.
• Teach him always to have sublime faith in himself because then he will always have some sublime faith in mankind.

 

ஆப்ரஹாம் லிங்கன் தன் மகனைத் துவக்கப் பள்ளியில் சேர்த்தார். அவர் தன் மகனுக்கு அறிவுரை சொல்லவில்லை. பள்ளி ஆசிரியருக்கு அவர் எழுதிய கடிதங்களின் சில பகுதிகள்! 

• தோல்வியை ஏற்றுக்கொள்ளவும், வெற்றியைக் கொண்டாடவும் என் மகனுக்குக் கற்றுக் கொடுங்கள்.
• பொறாமையிலிருந்து அவன் விலகியே இருக்கட்டும்.
• வானப்பறவைகள், தேனீக்கள், சூரியன், பசுமையான செடிகள், மலர்கள் இவற்றை ரசிக்க அவனுக்குக் கற்றுக் கொடுங்கள்.
• பிறரை ஏமாற்றுவதை விட, தோற்பது கண்ணியம் என்று அவனுக்குக் கற்றுக் கொடுங்கள்.
• சுய சிந்தனையில் நம்பிக்கை கொள்ளச் சொல்லுங்கள்.
• மென்மையானவர்களிடம் மென்மையாகவும், உறுதியானவர்களிடம் உறுதியாகவும் நடந்து கொள்ளக் கற்றுக் கொடுங்கள்.
• குற்றம் குறை கூறுபவர்களை அவன் அலட்சியப்படுத்தட்டும்.
• அளவுக்கு அதிகமாய் இனிமையாகப் பேசுபவர்களிடம் அவன் எச்சரிக்கையாக இருக்க வேண்டும்.
• தன் மனதுக்கு சரி என்று தோன்றுவதை அவன் துணிந்து நின்று போராடி நிறைவேற்ற அவனைப் பழக்குங்கள்

Download this Letter(PDF)

வியூகத்திற்குள் இருக்கும்போது....

வியூகத்திற்குள்
நீங்கள் இருக்கும்போது
நாம் ஆயுதபாணியா
நிராயுதபாணியா என்று
எப்போதும் யோசிக்கிறீர்கள்

உங்கள் ஆயுதங்களை
நீங்கள் பயன்படுத்தக்
கற்றுக் கொள்வதற்குள்
யுத்தம் முடிவுக்கு வந்துவிடலாம்

சரணடைவதா
எதிர்த்துப் போரிடுவதா
என்று ஏன் உடனடியாக
முடிவெடுக்க விரும்புகிறீர்கள்

யுத்தத்தில்
நீங்களாக எடுக்கும்
எந்த முடிவும்
உங்களது கற்பனைகள் மட்டுமே

வியூகத்திற்குள் இருக்கும்போது
எதிரியின் பலம் குறித்தும்
பலவீனம் குறித்தும்
ஏன் இவ்வளவு சிந்திக்கிறீர்கள்

எதிரியும்
தன்னைப் பற்றி
அவ்வளவு குழப்பங்களுடன்தான்
சிந்தித்துக்கொண்டிருக்கிறான்

உடைத்துத் திறக்கக்கூடிய
ஒரே ஒரு அரணைப் பற்றி
உங்கள் வரைபடத்தில்
துல்லியமாகக் குறிக்கிறீர்கள்

அதுதான் உங்களுக்கு
விரிக்கப்பட்ட
மரண வலையாகவும் இருக்கலாம்
இல்லையா?

வியூகத்திற்குள் இருக்கும்போது
நான் முதலில்
சிந்திப்பதை நிறுத்தி விடுகிறேன்

சிந்திப்பதை நிறுத்தும்போது
நாம் பயப்படுவதும்
நின்று விடுகிறது

அப்போது நான்
ஒரு பியர் பாட்டிலையோ
ஒரு புத்தகத்தையோ
திறக்கிறேன்.

அவை நமக்கு முதலில்
மறதியைக் கொண்டு வருகின்றன
பிறகு
அதன் வழியே விடுதலையை

வியூகத்தில் இருக்கும்போது
நான் புதிதாக ஒரு பெண்ணைக்
காதலிக்கத் தொடங்குகிறேன்

அது நம்மைப்
புதிதாக வேறொரு வியூகத்திற்குள்
செலுத்தி விடுகிறது

வியூகத்தில் இருக்கும்போது
தியானம் செய்வதோ
இயற்கை உணவுகளை சாப்பிடுவதோ
’ஜிம்’மிற்கு செல்வதோ
மிகவும் நல்லது

நாம் ஏதாவது ஒன்றைத்
தீவிரமாகப் பின்பற்றாவிட்டால்
வியூகத்தை எதிர்கொள்ள வேண்டியதாகிவிடும்

வியூகத்திற்குள் இருக்கும்போது
புதிதாக நீங்கள்
ஒரு செல்போனையோ
காரையோ வாங்குவது சிறந்தது

வியூகத்தின்போது
நம்மிடம் இருந்து பறிக்கப்படுபவை
எதுவென்று நமக்குத் தெரியாது

வியூகத்தில் நீங்கள்
அபிமன்யுவைப்போல
திகைத்துப் போய்விடுகிறீர்கள்

கிறிஸ்துவைப்போல
அமைதியாக ரத்தம் சிந்துங்கள்
சிலுவையில் தொங்கியபடி
எதிரியின் பாவங்களை மன்னியுங்கள்
வேறெப்படியும்
வியூகத்திலிருந்து
வெளியேற முடியாது

வியூகத்தில்
எதிர்த்துப் போரிட
நீங்கள் ஒரு சத்ரியனோ
போராளியோ அல்ல

நீங்கள் வெறுமனே
இந்தக் கவிதையைப்
படிப்பவர்
அல்லது
எழுதுபவர்தானே

-மனுஷ்ய புத்திரன்-

Answers to Non-Muslim's Common Questions about Islam - Dr. Zakir Naik

To download the Book; Find the link Below,

Answers to Non-Muslim's Common Questions about Islam

நினைவூட்டல்களின் காலம்

உனக்கு இதை
நினைவூட்டுதல்
கொஞ்சம் வருத்தமானது

ஒருவருக்கும்
திரும்பிப் பார்க்க
ஒன்றுமில்லாத
ஒரு காலத்தில்

உனக்கு இதை
நினைவூட்டுதல்
கொஞ்சம் அவமானகரமானது

கொடுத்ததைப்
பெற்றுக்கொண்டதை

அர்ப்பணித்துக்கொண்டதை
இழந்து வந்ததை

கண்துஞ்சாமல் இருந்ததை
கணக்குகள் பார்க்காதிருந்ததை

சிதறியதைக் கோர்த்துத் தந்ததை
உடைந்தவற்றை ஒட்டியதை


உனக்கு நினைவூட்டினால்தான்
நீ நினைத்துப் பார்ப்பாயா?

எல்லாவற்றையும் மாற்ற முடியும்
என்ற அப்போதைய நம்பிக்கைகளை

உண்மையாகவே கொஞ்சம் மாற்றியபோது
அடைந்த உவகைகளை

சாய்ந்துகொள்ளக் கிடைத்த தோள்களே
போதுமாக இருந்த நம் பயணங்களை

ஒரு பிடிமானமும் அற்று வீழ்ந்தபோது
அந்தரத்தில் தாங்கிய கைகளை


உனக்கு நினைவூட்டினால்தான்
இப்போது கொஞ்சம் கருணை காட்டுவாயா?

இதைவிடவும் பெரிய கஷ்டங்களைத்
தாங்க முடிந்ததை

இதைவிடவும் பெரிய தவறுகளை
மன்னிக்க முடிந்ததை

பெரியதாகத் தோன்றிய
நமது சிறிய காதல்களை

அப்போது சிறியதாகத் தோன்றிய
நம் பெரிய வாதைகளை


உனக்கு நினைவூட்டமுடியாவிட்டால்
நானும் அதை மறந்து போகவேண்டுமா?

இனி திரும்பப் பெற முடியாத
ஒரு காலத்தை

இனி மீட்கமுடியாத
ஒரு பருவத்தை

இனி கண்டுபிடிக்கமுடியாத
நம் அதிர்ஷ்டங்களை

இனி நிரூபிக்கமுடியாத
சில நியாயங்களை

உனக்கு இதை
நினைவூட்டுதல்
கொஞ்சம் வருத்தமானது

நினைத்துப் பார்ப்பதன் விலையை
யாரும் செலுத்தத் தயாரில்லாத

ஒரு காலத்தில்
அல்லது
மறதி மிக மிக மலிவாகக் கிடைக்கும்
ஒரு காலத்தில்

உனக்கு இதை
நினைவூட்டுதல்
கொஞ்சம் அவமானகரமானது

-மனுஷ்ய புத்திரன்-

Lauren Booth (Tony Blair's Sister-in-law) explains why she feel in love with Islam

LAUREN Booth, a broadcaster, journalist and sister-in-law of former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, defiantly explains her conversion to Islam.

"It is the most peculiar journey of my life. The carriage is warm and my fellow passengers unexpectedly welcoming. We are progressing ­rapidly and without delay. Rain, snow, rail unions, these things make no difference to the forward rush.

Yet I have no idea how I came to be on board nor, stranger still, quite where the train is heading, apart from this: the destination, wherever it might be, is the most important place I can imagine.

I know this all seems gloriously far-fetched, but really it is how I feel about my conversion, announced last week, to Islam.

Although the means and ­mechanisms that brought me to this point remain mysterious, the decision will determine every aspect of my life to come as firmly as the twin rails beneath that exhilarating express.

Asked for a simple explanation of how I, an English hack journalist, a ­single working mother, signed up to the Western media’s least-favourite religion, I suppose I would point to an intensely spiritual experience in an Iranian mosque just over a month ago.

But it makes more sense to go back to January 2005, when I arrived alone in the West Bank to cover the elections there for The Mail on Sunday. It is safe to say that before that visit I had never spent any time with Arabs, or Muslims.

The whole experience was a shock, but not for the reasons I might have expected. So much of what we know about this part of the world and the people who follow Mohammed the Prophet is based on ­disturbing - some would say biased - news bulletins.

So, as I flew towards the Middle East, my mind was full of the usual 10pm buzz­words: radical extremists, fanatics, forced marriages, suicide bombers and jihad. Not much of a travel brochure.

My very first experience, though, could hardly have been more positive. I had arrived on the West Bank without a coat, as the Israeli airport authorities had kept my suitcase.

Walking around the centre of Ramallah, I was shivering, whereupon an old lady grabbed my hand.

Talking rapidly in Arabic, she took me into a house on a side street. Was I being kidnapped by a rather elderly terrorist? For several confusing minutes I watched her going through her daughter’s wardrobe until she pulled out a coat, a hat and a scarf.

I was then taken back to the street where I had been walking, given a kiss and sent warmly on my way. There had been not a single comprehensible word exchanged between us.

Warmth of spirit

It was an act of generosity I have never forgotten, and one which, in various guises, I have seen repeated a hundred times. Yet this warmth of spirit is so rarely represented in what we read and see in the news.

Over the course of the next three years I made numerous journeys to the occupied lands which were once historic Palestine. At first I went on ­assignments; as time went by, I started travelling in solidarity with charities and pro-Palestinian groups.

I felt challenged by the hardships ­suffered by Palestinians of all creeds. It is important to remember there have been Christians in the Holy Land for 2000 years and that they too are suffering under Israel’s illegal occupation.

Gradually I found expressions such as ‘Mashallah!’ (a phrase of gratitude meaning ‘God has willed it’) and ‘Al Hamd­illilah!’ (akin to ‘Halle­lujah’) creeping into my everyday speech. These are exclamations of delight derived from the 100 names of God, or Allah. Far from being nervous of Muslim groups, I started looking forward to meeting them. It was an opportunity to be with people of intelligence, wit and, above all else, kindness and generosity.

I’m going to take a break here to pray for 10 minutes as it’s 1.30pm. (There are five prayers each day, the times varying throughout the year depending on the rising and setting of the sun.)

I was in no doubt that I had embarked on a change of political understanding, one in which Palestinians became families rather than terror suspects, and Muslim cities communities rather than ‘collateral damage’.

But a religious journey? This would never have occurred to me. Although I have always liked to pray and, since childhood, have enjoyed the stories of Jesus and the more ancient prophets that I had picked up at school and at the Brownies, I was brought up in a very secular household.

Bold Muslim women

It was probably an appreciation of Muslim culture, in partic­ular that of Muslim women, that first drew me towards a broader appreciation of Islam.

How strange Muslim women seem to English eyes, all covered up from head to toe, sometimes walking behind their husbands (although this is far from universally the case), with their children around their long skirts.

By contrast, professional women in Europe are happy to make the most of their appearance. I, for example, have always been proud of my lovely blonde hair and, yes, my cleavage.

It was common working practice to have this on display at all times because so much of what we sell these days has to do with our appearance.

Yet whenever I have been invited to broadcast on television, I have sat watching in wonder as the female presenters spend up to an hour on their hair and make- up, before giving the serious ­topics under discussion less than 15 minutes’ attention. Is this liber­ation? I began to wonder just how much true respect girls and women get in our ‘free’ society.

In 2007 I went to Lebanon. I spent four days with female ­university students, all of whom wore the full hijab: belted shirts over dark trousers or jeans, with no hair on show. They were charming, independent and outspoken company. They were not at all the timid, soon-to-be-forced-into-marriage girls I would have imagined from what we often read in the West.

At one point they accompanied me to interview a sheikh who was also a commander with the Hezbollah militia. I was pleasantly surprised by his attitude to the girls. As Sheikh Nabil, in turban and brown flowing robes, talked intriguingly of a prisoner swap, they started butting in. They felt free to talk over him, to put a hand up for him to pause while they translated.

In fact, the bossiness of Muslim women is something of a joke that rings true in so many homes in the community. You want to see men under the thumb? Look at many Muslim husbands more than other kinds.

Indeed, just yesterday, the Grand Mufti of Bosnia rang me and only half-jokingly introduced himself as ‘my wife’s husband’.

Something else was changing, too. The more time I spent in the Middle East, the more I asked to be taken into mosques. Just for touristy reasons, I told myself. In fact I found them fascinating.

Mosques 'fascinating'

Free of statues and with rugs instead of pews, I saw them rather like a big sitting room where ­children play, women feed their families pitta bread and milk and grandmothers sit and read the Koran in wheelchairs. They take their lives into their place of worship and bring their worship into their homes.

Then came the night in the Iran­ian city of Qom, beneath the golden dome of the shrine of Fatima Mesumah (the revered ‘Learned Lady’). Like the other women pilgrims, I said Allah’s name several times while holding on to the bars of Fatima’s tomb.

When I sat down, a pulse of sheer spiritual joy shot through me. Not the joy that lifts you off the ground, but the joy that gives you complete peace and contentment. I sat for a long time. Young women gathered around me talking of the ‘amazing thing happening to you’.

I knew then I was no longer a tourist in Islam but a traveller inside the Ummah, the community of Islam that links all believers.

At first I wanted the feeling to go, and for several reasons. Was I ready to convert? What on earth would friends and family think? Was I ready to moderate my behaviour in many ways?

And here’s the really strange thing. I needn’t have worried about any of these things, because somehow becoming a Muslim is really easy – although the prac­ticalities are a very different ­matter, of course.

For a start, Islam demands a great deal of study, yet I am mother to two children and work full-time. You are expected to read the Koran from beginning to end, plus the thoughts and findings of imams and all manner of spiritually enlightened people. Most people would spend months, if not years of study before making their declaration.

People ask me how much of the Koran I’ve read, and my answer is that I’ve only covered 100 pages or so to date, and in translation. But before anyone sneers, the verses of the Koran should be read ten lines at a time, and they should be recited, considered and, if possible, committed to memory. It’s not like OK! magazine.

This is a serious text that I am going to know for life. It would help to learn Arabic and I would like to, but that will also take time.

I have a relationship with a ­couple of mosques in North London, and I am hoping to make a routine of going at least once a week. I would never say, by the way, whether I will take a Sunni or a Shia path. For me, there is one Islam and one Allah.

Adopting modest dress, however, is rather less troublesome than you might think. Wearing a headscarf means I’m ready to go out more quickly than before. I was blushing the first time I wore it loosely over my hair just a few weeks ago.

Luckily it was cold outside, so few people paid attention. Going out in the sunshine was more of a challenge, but this is a tolerant country and no one has looked askance so far.

A veil, by the way, is not for me, let alone something more substantial like a burka. I’m making no criticism of women who choose that level of modesty. But Islam has no expectation that I will adopt a more severe form of dress.

Predictably, some areas of the Press have had a field day with my conversion, unleashing a torrent of abuse that is not really aimed at me but a false idea of Islam.

But I have ignored the more negative comments. Some people don’t understand spirituality and any discussion of it makes them frightened. It raises awkward questions about the meaning of their own lives and they lash out.

One of my concerns is professional. It is easy to get pigeonholed, particularly if I continue to wear a headscarf. In fact, based on the experience of other female converts, I’m wondering if I will be treated as though I have lost my mind.

I’ve been political all my life, and that will continue. I’ve been involved in pro-Palestinian activism for a number of years, and don’t expect to stop. Yet Britain is a more tolerant country than, say, France or Germany.

I’m well aware that there are plenty of Muslim women who have great success on television and in the Press, and wear modest but decidedly Western dress.

This is hardly a choice for me, though. I am a newcomer, still getting to grips with the basic tenets. My relationship with Islam is different. I am in no position to say that some bits of my new-found faith suit me and that some bits I’ll ignore.

There is a more profound uncertainty about the future, too. I feel changes going on in me every day – that I’m becoming a different person. I wonder where that will end up. Who will I be?

I am fortunate in that my most important relationships remain strong. The reaction from my non-Muslim friends has been more curious than hostile. "Will it change you?" they ask. "Can we still be your friend? Can we go out drinking?"

The answer to the first two of those questions is yes. The last is a big happy no.

As for my mother, I think she is happy if I’m happy. And if, coming from a background of my father’s alcoholism, I’m going to avoid the stuff, then what could be better?

Alcoholic household

Growing up in an alcoholic household with a dad who was violent, has left a great gap in my life. It is a wound that will never heal and his remarks about me are very hurtful.

We haven’t seen each other for years, so how can he know anything about me or have any valid views about my conversion? I just feel sorry for him. The rest of my family is very supportive.

My mum and I had a difficult relationship when I was growing up, but we have built bridges and she’s a great support to me and the girls.

When I told her I had converted, she did say: "Not to those nutters. I thought you said Buddhism!" But she understand now and accepts it.

And, as it happens, giving up alcohol was a breeze. In fact I can’t imagine tasting alcohol ever again. I simply don’t want to.

This is not the time for me to be thinking about relationships with men, either. I’m recovering from the breakdown of my marriage and am now going through a divorce.

So I’m not looking and am under no pressure to look.

If, when the time came, I did consider remarrying, then, in accordance with my adopted faith, the husband would need to be Muslim.

I’m asked: "Will my daughters be Muslim?" I don’t know, that is up to them. You can’t change someone’s heart. But they’re certainly not hostile and their reaction to my surprising conversion was perhaps the most telling of all.

I sat in the kitchen and called them in. "Girls, I have some news for you," I began. "I am now a Muslim." They went into a ­huddle, with the eldest, Alex, saying: "We have some questions, we’ll be right back."

They made a list and returned. Alex cleared her throat. "Will you drink alcohol any more?"

Answer: No. The response - a rather worrying "Yay!"

"Will you smoke cigarettes any more?" Smoking isn’t haram (for­bidden) but it is harmful, so I answered: "No."

Again, this was met with puritanical approval. Their final question, though, took me aback. "‘Will you have your breasts out in public now you are a Muslim?"

What??

It seems they’d both been embarrassed by my plunging shirts and tops and had cringed on the school run at my pallid cleavage. Perhaps in hindsight I should have cringed as well.

"Now that I’m Muslim," I said, "I will never have my breasts out in public again."

"We love Islam!" they cheered and went off to play. And I love Islam too."

Lauren Booth, 43, the sixth daughter of actor Tony Booth, now works for Press TV, the English-language news channel of the Islamic Republic of Iran

Read more:

http://www.news.com.au/world/lauren-booth-explains-why-she-feel-in-love-with-islam/story-e6frfkyi-1225946002728#ixzz147fe74ix

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