The dancing burka

Image by cocoparisienne from Pixabay

A black burka with an Islamic connection was hanging on the washing line to dry in the breeze. First one arm would rise up and then the other and sometimes both at the same time for the wind having fun.

A sudden gust blew the burka right off the line into the road where another stronger wind filled it and down the road it went as if someone was wearing it with first one arm rising and then the other.

Round the corner it turned and almost bumped into two women also wearing burkas and walking to market to buy vegetables for their husband’s dinner for when they came home from work later.

As the burka passed them an arm blew up and touched one woman on the shoulder, which startled her a little bit but not enough to be alarmed. Recovering from her exclamation and feeling that the touch was from another woman who wanted her to follow her she ran after what she thought was a woman going somewhere, and her friend followed close behind.

Some children, thinking that they recognised their mother in her burka ran after them and a dog barked and joined in the procession.

As with all processions, a crowd soon gathered and as midday prayers had recently finished there were still many men about. They began to follow the dancing burka along the road towards the market.

In the huge square where the market was held each day the wind danced the black burka into the centre with everyone following behind in a festive mood.

Round and round the burka danced in the wind, with first one arm coming up and then the other. The men were entranced, and so too the women at a sister who could be so free and untroubled by so much attention.

Birds sang from the trees and added to the din of so many talking in wonder at such a thing. Who was this woman? Did she have a husband and if not where was her guardian?

Suddenly a cleric was there and all activity stopped except the dancing burka.

“You will stop this now,” said the cleric; some men nodded their heads in agreement but most everyone else just watched to see what would happen.

The burka continued to dance.

From the shadows, an extremist fired a shot that passed right through the burka and hit an innocent bystander along the line of its trajectory. The bystander, a man of some standing fell to the ground, all life gone from him.

At this, the crowd panicked, and turning about ran for the exits of the square screaming, shoving and trampling over those in front to leave a good many behind unmoving on the ground.

The cleric stood his ground until the square was empty and then was joined by the extremist who was also joined by other extremists who circled the dancing burka and raised their guns to point at what they thought was a woman breaking all the rules, and so in their eyes was condemned to die by their hands.

“You have brought about your own fate,” said the cleric, and raising his hands he signalled for the men to fire.

Many shots rang out from the circle of guns, and passing through the burka the bullets hit the men opposite and killed them all, and dropping to the ground they knew no more. The cleric ran off to hide and praying to Allah not to strike him dead too.

An American man, drinking beer and hidden in a secret place took photos and recorded all that happened and would report it in later to his master who would file it away under Arab Muslim miscellany.

Although pirates were rare in the land that Muslims prayed to Allah five times a day, rarer still was the black cat that crossed the square, its tail high and no one to cross its path. It passed out of the square to leave the dead bodies and the dancing burka behind and unconcerned by the folly of human kind in all its madness.

When the wind dropped, the burka fell to the ground, and later, a report was put in to the police of a stolen burka, that when found in the square was reunited with its owner who swore blind it was not her who had danced in it and led so many to their deaths.

But such is the fate of the innocent to die for the reasons men find, and so she was condemned to be stoned to death, and went down crying for Allah to save her.

And so the philosophical question might be: if Allah caused the burka to dance, did he not also cause the deaths to happen? Or were the deaths from the hand of men acting on their own?

If it is Allah causing all things to happen by his doing then there is no right or wrong and no cause for fear for there is just his will. But if it is by the hands of men with free will that cause things to happen then all things must be measured by good and evil.

Or, perhaps the dancing burka was caused by the wind moved by the hand of Allah to move the hearts of many; but the hearts of those who interfere in his will cause their own demise.

This is just a story, written in the hope it may bring some understanding, not for judgement, but maybe just to take that one step closer to a knowing of something deeper within.

Images from Pixabay