A man with faith is a man without filth

Just after midday, in the streets of this beautiful city, the call of prayers echoed. Thus God is glorified and praised, His unity is declared open and unreservedly; these constitutes the meaning of the enchanting arabic melody of perfectly arranged proses. Since leaving my country last year, this was my first time walking in such atmosphere that gives undescribable experience- the ambience of communal submission and complete humility to the One and only Creator.

We made our ablutions, the ritual washing of our faces, arms, heads and feet before entering the state of prayers. Under the blazing sun, nothing could have been more refreshing. Now that we were physically clean, came the big part of preparing and purifying our souls and innerselves. I stood in the mosque compound contemplating and focusing my mind for these cherished moments with God I've longed for since the last prayer we made early in the morning. The soothing sound of another call of prayers from a mosque somewhere not too far away adds to the serenity already packed in my heart, as if it was also claiming its right to be there. As it happened, more and more people came answering the sublime call they have heard, passing almost unnoticed on my right and left. "We heard, and we submit. We heard, and we follow."

The next few minutes can never be described by words, not even with the most beautiful language ever existed on earth. About a hundred people filled the prayer hall in perfect lines, moving in complete order while expressing their uttermost adoration to the Owner of the heavens and earth. It is still a wonder to me that a land so disconnected from many other thriving Muslim communities could have the exact same practices, in great detail, with the ones I was taught since I was small. These people are Europeans, Slavs in origin, but their hearts are Muslims. They are as humble and submissive to God as other Muslims are.

Deep in the prayers, it was all too emotional for me. This opportunity, this one that God has granted me, was a golden one, if not anything better. To be with souls that are- not just willing- but want and feel the need to connect themselves to their Lord; nothing can be more fulfilling. I couldn't help asking myself; Why would they choose to believe in God, when the (majority of the) rest of the West don't? Why would they want to make God central, when they could have simply chosen alcohol, gambling and fornication? Why submission, when there is this widely publicized 'freedom'? Why choose Islam as your garment, when you can be a proud agnostic European?

Could it be that the answer lies in faith? They say that a man who has faith is a man without filth.