Lessons from London

Having had everything prepared for the journey, I took a 7 hour bus ride to London. It wasn't my first experience in London, but so far in every such occasion, I was amazed. Northern and southern England is so distinctively different. Up north, there is very limited signs of multi-cultural and multi-religious society; I've always felt as if I was treated like a stranger who has unwelcomedly entered a local's house. Down here, the atmosphere is markedly in contrast. On the superficial level, there are so many variety of skin colours, religious symbols, and nationalities along any one street. In one particular area where Jews are abundant, surprisingly- but also very pleasing to know- a grocery shop can survive displaying the mighty name of Iran on its board. Maybe the world has much to learn from London per se.

However, this remark should never serve to mask the problems it brings along. I understand that my encounters are limited to my private sphere, but these are the impressions that will last in me, and I believe is worthy of being recorded. When my friend Nubli and I were half-lost, searching for the next shuttle to Stansted Airport for Bosna, we had to resort to the usual plan B; i.e. ask around for directions. I instinctively went to a bus driver, a woman, and posed a totally appropriate and polite question only to be replied with smears. Nevertheless I continued my very best to be polite, and said that she could've just refused to help without uttering the unpleasant words. To this she frowned and turned away, totally ignoring me. I was left standing in the bus in where she sat, buffled and looked stupid. It didn't take long for me to realise that there was no hope in pleading for her mercy, because she had none to offer. Thinking that it was all over, I walked out of the bus saying the courteous 'thank you', only to see the bus door closing up to me. If Allah had wanted to test me with a heavier ordeal, it would have slammed hard into my face..!

Praises be to Allah, we got on the bus on time, after some God-sent help from the good and well-mannered London samaritans. Our real journey was however yet to begin. We honestly do not know what to expect from the Bosniaks, Croats, and most importantly Serbs, of whom we've heard much of. Before anything, I again phoned my mum faraway in Malaysia to seek her blessings for the nth time. I was reassured. With her prayers, my heart felt as if surrounded by foolproof defenses that wouldn't allow a single touch of fear come close. Spiritual and materially equipped, I boarded the plane.