I've been thinking lately about Sunnism and Shi'ism and trying to understand how Islam diverged into two sects entirely and would like any [if there are any readers of this blog left out there!] interested parties to help me understand. While I get that the first 'infraction' as it were occurred during the nomination of a successor to lead the Muslim community after the death of the Prophet, and that there were disagreements to who should lead, how did that turn into a different set of practices entirely? Or for that matter, how did Sunnism divide into so many different sects; not just the four Imams but the further subdivisions that took principal root in the Sub Continent? Deobandis, Barelwis, etc. Of course, one could argue that such is the natural progression of any religious movement: the same thing happened to Christianity and Judaism but it still doesn't answer the why. I have read up on the history of religion, I do know how the subdivisions happened but it still doesn't explain the theological need to separate. To state that it is human nature doesn't cut it, particularly if you're looking to unite different factions into one, trying to navigate the different practices and still have it one religion. All sorts of theological and mythological questions and debates are springing up in my mind now, thanks to the research attributed to this socio-religious novel, quite possibly the first of its kind in the region. Well no, not ever. But probably in English. The Urdu literature industry's rather verbose and widespread in the range of subjects it's covered. It's sad that much of that's been lost on the new generation, myself included. I could state that part of that is attributed to my educational background: despite living in the country, English has always been my first language, which is the natural byproduct of attending international schools for much of my life. What I have read that weren't course requirements; Anarkali for instance, I absolutely loved. I might want to delve into that side again. Art in any of its forms, familiar or unfamiliar should be perpetuated after all.
Jalaluddin Rumi's Mathnawi has become part of my virtual bookshelf although locating an appropriately translated version is proving hard to find, and I'd ideally like to add it a non-virtual bookshelf. I think it might be far too limiting to stick to what you know when it comes to spiritual matters: you should try and extend yourself out of your comfort zone as much as you can, because should you choose to walk away and return, it is entirely on your own terms. I'm not sure about others out there, but I like to practice my faith on my own terms in context with what's come before, sure but not practice it like a hand-me-down something I have to implement because it belonged to my forefathers and mothers. It isn't enough and it can get old fairly soon. You do need to know why you are doing what you are doing, believe on your own terms or don't believe at all but walking the line in between is walking on incredibly thin ice, because so often you believe if the believing is accompanied by proof. The proof doesn't always present itself to you. Oh it's a much bigger debate than the one I'm presenting here. Part of understanding why you believe what you do is going back into history: it was my journey at least. Chartering the course of history, understanding the various theologies of the world's different religions, how the idea of God formulated and the accompanying prophets, the creation of the world, and negotiating science with faith. This last I'm still reading up on.
Suffice to say it's the thin lines in our lives separating one from the Other, black from the white, light from the darkness and so on and so forth, that make or break us. It inevitably builds us up or tears us down, the point being: the lines don't exist without consequence.
Writing Gray, the novel version, has opened up a whole other can of whoop-ass discussion and debate I wasn't quite aware I was ready for until I started asking the right questions. I think I know where my future in writing lies, even if I shape up and create new worlds, or drastically restructure existing ones, the subjects I cover will never be easy. They will always be too ambitious. They will always push me.
Indeed if they didn't, would things even be worth it?
Jalaluddin Rumi's Mathnawi has become part of my virtual bookshelf although locating an appropriately translated version is proving hard to find, and I'd ideally like to add it a non-virtual bookshelf. I think it might be far too limiting to stick to what you know when it comes to spiritual matters: you should try and extend yourself out of your comfort zone as much as you can, because should you choose to walk away and return, it is entirely on your own terms. I'm not sure about others out there, but I like to practice my faith on my own terms in context with what's come before, sure but not practice it like a hand-me-down something I have to implement because it belonged to my forefathers and mothers. It isn't enough and it can get old fairly soon. You do need to know why you are doing what you are doing, believe on your own terms or don't believe at all but walking the line in between is walking on incredibly thin ice, because so often you believe if the believing is accompanied by proof. The proof doesn't always present itself to you. Oh it's a much bigger debate than the one I'm presenting here. Part of understanding why you believe what you do is going back into history: it was my journey at least. Chartering the course of history, understanding the various theologies of the world's different religions, how the idea of God formulated and the accompanying prophets, the creation of the world, and negotiating science with faith. This last I'm still reading up on.
Suffice to say it's the thin lines in our lives separating one from the Other, black from the white, light from the darkness and so on and so forth, that make or break us. It inevitably builds us up or tears us down, the point being: the lines don't exist without consequence.
Writing Gray, the novel version, has opened up a whole other can of whoop-ass discussion and debate I wasn't quite aware I was ready for until I started asking the right questions. I think I know where my future in writing lies, even if I shape up and create new worlds, or drastically restructure existing ones, the subjects I cover will never be easy. They will always be too ambitious. They will always push me.
Indeed if they didn't, would things even be worth it?
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