There was a time that I was walking in a quiet alley away from the bustle of the city; on the right side of the street, I saw a black barefoot man waving his hands in front of a statue which is located in a box. I approached and waited him until he finished his rituals. He looked at me and drew a smile on his face, I also smiled and asked him – pointing to the statue - “ Who is this man?

”He answered, “ This is the father.” I replied, “ Father of whom ?” He responded, “ Hindo.”
I smiled again and asked “ How can I pray to him ?”
He replied, “ You can not, you are shod; must take off the boot.”
I took my shoe off with the socks. I knew later that the socks are ok to be worn. I sat kneeling down while he taught me the rituals of the prayer. I asked the Father a favor then I wore my socks and shoes.
The man asked, “ Where do you come from ?”
I replied, “ Syria, I come from a Muslim Family.”
He offered me a cup of tea and invited me to visit him at anytime I want.

 

Then, I left the alley. After about a month from that incident, I was walking with one of the OrthodoxMuslims in Malaysia when a dark skin man crossed by us.

 

He told me, “ Do you see this young man over there ?” I said, “ Yes ?” He continued, “ Do you see the red tarpaulin, canvas bracelet around his wrist?” I said, “ Yes this is a Hindu.” He went on saying, “Hindus put this bracelet when they finish their prayers; beware of the people of this very religion.” I asked, “ Why ?” He answered, “ Hindus never hesitate to kill a Muslim, for them killing a Muslim is fun.”

 

While I heard those hideous words uttering out of his mouth like the deadly poison of a snake, I saw -two young Hindus cross by a white beard man, one that obnoxiously whispers to the other planting a hate seed in the land of civil war- in a corner of my own imagination.