Br. Nouman Ali Khan talks about The Healthy Marriage . This is the 19th of 30 lectures presented by Br. Nouman after Taraweeh every night during Ramadan 2007.
or watch here
Br. Nouman Ali Khan talks about The Healthy Marriage . This is the 19th of 30 lectures presented by Br. Nouman after Taraweeh every night during Ramadan 2007.
http://www.ilmcast.com - Nouman Ali Khan gives a talk at Ilm Summit 2009 addressing the issue of how communities need to face the reality of the world we live in and how we need to also appropriately respond them.
A few hours before dawn, when most New Yorkers are fast asleep, a middle-aged man rolls out of bed in Brooklyn, dons a billowy red outfit and matching turban, climbs into his Lincoln Town Car, drives 15 minutes, pulls out a big drum and — there on the sidewalk of a residential neighborhood — starts to play.
The man, Mohammad Boota, is a Ramadan drummer. Every morning during the holy month, which ends on Sept. 21, drummers stroll the streets of Muslim communities around the world, waking worshipers so they can eat a meal before the day’s fasting begins.
“Everywhere they complain,” he said. “People go, like, ‘What the hell? What you doing, man?’ They never know it’s Ramadan.”
Mr. Boota wants to be a good American, and a good Muslim. “I don’t want to bother other communities’ people,” he said. “Just the Pakistani people.”
Explaining 9/11 to a Muslim Child By Moina Noor
Recently on the morning drive to school my 8-year-old son asked me a question I’ve been dreading since he was a baby, “Mom, what happened on 9/11?”
Mass murder is impossible to explain to yourself, let alone a child. But how do I, as a parent, explain the slaughter of innocent people in the name of a religion that I am trying to pass on to my boy?
Bilal was just 8 months old when September 11 happened. He was just starting to crawl and put everything in sight into his mouth, and I remember having to peel my gaze away from the television screen and remind myself to keep a watchful eye on where he lay nearby.
After Bilal was born I viewed everything — especially current events — through the lens of parenthood. I knew the world had changed irreparably on 9/11, and while I mourned the innocent and raged against my crazy coreligionists, my nagging anxiety was for my son.
Even in those early surreal hours after the attacks when images of towers falling and long-bearded men in caves flooded the television screen, I knew that Bilal’s childhood would not be like mine.
When I was growing up in suburban Connecticut few people knew much about Muslims, let alone cared. My parents and their friends would gather in community rooms or church basements for our version of Sunday school. They were devout but weren’t necessarily interested in teaching their neighbors about Islam. We were few in number and invisible.
After 9/11, the spotlight was aimed at Muslims everywhere, especially here in America. Like many Muslims, I felt the need to defend my religious identity. I threw myself into all things Muslim, and explained and explained: “We are like you. Islam is peaceful. Complex sociopolitical factors create lunatics who kill people. Please don’t judge a billion people by a few bad apples.”
I hung tightly to my spiritual rope. I could not let go of a faith has given me and my family comfort and solace for generations.
Since 9/11, I’ve worried how Bilal would feel about his identity as a Muslim living in America. A survey conducted by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life appeared in 2007 stating that 35 percent of respondents had an unfavorable opinion about Islam. Could one of those 3 in 10 people be Bilal’s teacher or soccer coach?
Over the past eight years I’ve read about Muslims being deported and pulled off airplanes and mosques being vandalized. My sister, a former middle school teacher in Brooklyn, heard kids taunt a Muslim student on the playground, calling him a terrorist. And even though I fear the possibility of discrimination for Bilal, what I fear most of all is that the din of Islamophobia will rob my son of self-respect and confidence.
So just as I became an activist, I became a proactive Muslim mommy. When Bilal was a preschooler, I took him to Muslim playgroups, organized activities in Ramadan and bought him board books about the Prophet Muhammed. I pushed him in his stroller at peace walks and brought him to interfaith events. These days, I organize local Islamic school classes and give talks about the Hajj at his elementary school. My husband and I read him books about Islamic contributions to math and science.
Over the years, I’ve tried to protect my son from any negative associations made with Islam. I’ve developed lightening quick reflexes — the second I hear a story about suicide bombers or terrorists on the radio, I switch to a pop music station. I’ve made my husband limit his CNN time to after the kids go to sleep. I don’t want to have to answer the question, “Mom, what is the ‘threat of radical Islamic extremism?’ ”
For me, the thought of talking to Bilal about terrorism is a bit like talking about sex for the first time. It is awkward and difficult I’m just not sure how much a child his age is ready to hear.
This year 9/11 falls during Ramadan, the Muslim holy month of fasting. I made Bilal watch President Obama’s five minute long “Ramadan Message to Muslims” on the Internet. President Obama spoke with respect, knowledge and a sense optimism to Muslims around the world. He found the speech interesting but nothing out of the ordinary. For Bilal, who is just starting to become conscious of a world bigger than our front yard, there is no “clash of civilizations”.
Bilal is proud to tell others that he was named after “the Prophet’s best friend,” an African Muslim with a beautiful voice who gave the first call to prayer. He is also a Cub Scout who has learned how to fold the American flag.
I did try and answer Bilal’s question. I relayed the day’s events in broad cartoonish strokes: bad guys attack, buildings collapse. Don’t worry, I assured him, we’ll get the bad guys so they won’t do it again. As I looked at Bilal in the rearview mirror, I explained that good and bad exists in every group, even your own. I think he understands.
Career analyst Dan Pink examines the puzzle of motivation, starting with a fact that social scientists know but most managers don't: Traditional rewards aren't always as effective as we think. Listen for illuminating stories -- and maybe, a way forward.
Hakeem the dream: My life as a Muslim by Gary Meenaghan
Friday, September 11, 2009
For many involved in basketball, Michael Jordan is God. But for former Houston Rocket Hakeem Olajuwon, Jordan has an altogether different meaning: it means home. And his God is Allah.
The 46-year-old Muslim's "open and quiet life" in the Hashemite Kingdom is almost the antithesis of his years as arguably the best centre basketball has ever seen.
When the 6ft-10in Nigerian joined the Rockets in the 1984 NBA Draft from the University of Houston, he was the first pick – ahead of Jordan and Charles Barkley. Within a decade he had not only led his side to two successive championships, he also became the first player in NBA history to be simultaneously voted Most Valuable Player (MVP), Defensive Player of the Year and Finals MVP in a single season.
Born in Lagos, Olajuwon became a naturalised American in 1993 after moving to Texas in 1980 and went on to help the United States win gold at the Atlanta Olympics. The same year, he was selected by a panel of experts as one of the "50 Greatest Players in NBA History" and when he stepped off the court for the final time six years later, the Rockets retired his No34 jersey in testament to his talents.
Olajuwon moved to the Middle East shortly after, having visited the region throughout his 18-year career. Now settled in Jordan – a country he says offers a "balanced, neutral society" – his children Rahmah and Aisha attend one of its many international schools, he visits the mosque as often as possible, and he and wife Dalia practise Arabic in a conducive environment. He seems content. He sounds comfortable.
Despite being close to midnight, he has just returned from his local mosque when he speaks to Emirates Business by phone from his family home in Amman. It is Ramadan and he is fasting, just as he did when he was playing.
"It is not difficult because it is something you look forward to," he says. "Fasting is really a training programme for your willpower. The concept of Ramadan is to control yourself – to restrain.
"Whether people around you are fasting or not doesn't make any difference. If people are eating and drinking in front of you, the willpower of the Muslim should be stronger. That's what the training is for.
"It's like somebody who swims in a pool or somebody who is swimming in the ocean. The ocean is stronger so makes a better swimmer.
"I find in the Arab World that when they are fasting, they say they are weaker and they don't work as hard. But it should be the opposite."
So does he explain this understanding to his local Muslim friends, I ask?
"Yes... but they think I am crazy," he says with a deep, hearty laugh.
"But it's true. When I was playing, we were travelling and all my team-mates were drinking water. To me, it didn't matter. It made me stronger and my statistics went up; I was better during Ramadan, more focussed… lighter."
During his career, Olajuwon was for ever the focus of the sports media throughout the holy month. His fasting was analysed across America and The New York Times described him as "depleted but dominating" in a 1997 match against Jordan's Chicago Bulls.
But this was the 1990s; Muslims in North American sports were not commonplace. Nowadays there are players such as Toronto Raptors' Hedo Türkoglu and, if rumours are to be believed, Shaquille O'Neal who have found faith in Islam.
"At the beginning of my career, when my team-mates heard I was fasting during the season they thought it would affect my game and were concerned," explains the 12-time All-Star. "But when they saw that it actually made me better there was a lot of admiration and intrigue: 'How can you play at this level without drinking water, when you must need water and must be thirsty' they would ask."
Despite some reports claiming Olajuwon persistently tried to convert his Christian team-mates, he insists, now at least, he simply just goes about his day.
"I don't go out to try and speak about Islam," says Olajuwon, who recently returned from a family pilgrimage to Mecca.
"If someone asks me a question about Ramadan I speak about Ramadan, if they ask me a question about basketball, I speak about basketball. If you don't ask I don't volunteer, and that's how it should be. That's what's so cool about it."
Basketball has faced a bad rap in recent years, from rape allegations levelled against Kobe Bryant in 2003 to Orlando Magic's Rashard Lewis's failed drugs test last month. But Olajuwon says the increased exposure is not to blame for players' actions, and neither are high salaries.
Olajuwon amassed a reported $99 million (Dh363m) during his career, but he maintains there is no such thing as too much money in professional sports – so long as those receiving it remain grounded and appreciate there are virtues more valuable than money.
"There can never be too much money in basketball – it's a business," says Olajuwon, who during his playing days donated two-and-a-half per cent of his annual income to the underprivileged.
"What's more important is that they can manage their fame for a good cause – there are lots of people like that. But you also have a lot of people where they don't know how to handle success and end up destroying their career. Someone who is rich, but who doesn't have [positive] principles – these people have no value."
Olajuwon returns to the States every so often – "whenever I have an engagement," as he puts it – and made the trip last year to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. Less than a week later, a monument was unveiled outside the Houston Rockets' Toyota Center arena.
However, aware that a picture or likeness is against Islamic beliefs, the Rockets instead erected a 12-foot high bronze sculpture focussing on his famed No34 jersey. Now, even though Olajuwon may call Jordan home, he will for ever be in Houston.
Honour roll
x2 NBA Champion, Houston rockets (1994, 1995)
x1 NBA MVP (1994)
x12 All-Star (1985-90, 1992-97)
x2 Finals mvp (1994, 1995)
x2 NBA Defensive player of the year (1993, 1994)
x6 All-NBA First Team (1987, 1989, 1993-94, 1997)
x5 NBA All defensive first team (1987, 1988, 1990, 1993, 1994)
x1 NBA all-rookie team (1985)
NBA's 50th anniversary all-time team
x1 gold medal, us national team, atlanta olympics (1996)
Narrated 'Umar bin Al-Khattab: "During the lifetime of the Prophet there was a man called 'Abdullah whose nickname was Donkey, and he used to make Allah's Apostle laugh. The Prophet lashed him because of drinking (alcohol). And one-day he was brought to the Prophet on the same charge and was lashed. On that, a man among the people said, "O Allah, curse him ! How frequently he has been brought (to the Prophet on such a charge)!" The Prophet said, "Do not curse him, for by Allah, I know for he loves Allah and His Apostle." "
Shahr bin Haushab(Allah be pleased with him) relates that he asked Hadhrat Umm-Salamah (Allah be pleased with her): O Ummul-Mu’mineen! What was the supplication made most often by the Messenger of Allah (SAW) when he used to be in your house? She said: He most often used to supplicate:Ya muqallib al Quloob, thabbit qalbee alaa deenik
O turner of the hearts, establish my heart upon your deen[Tirmidhi]