Reminiscence from Anatolia- Part Nine: Meeting Imam Mustafa
The site of Artemis Temple is unremarkable… if one was not to be told that it was one of the greatest monuments of the ancient world… one would think that it was just another ruin.
The only remarkable thing, which can remind of the glorious past of this place… is a tall pillar… the only visible remnant of the great Artemis temple.
When I reached the place… I was flocked by a number of knick-knack sellers, who were selling replicas of erstwhile Artemis Temple, as also fake coins from the yesteryears. I also met a old Chinese couple, who was visiting the place.
During my travels to distant lands- I have found Koreans, Japanese as the most voracious travelers… however, now Chinese are also joining the band-wagon. This, to my mind, indicates two things- one, the disposable incomes of Chinese is on the rise… commensurate to their rising economic status… and two, they want to reach out to the world. Both ways, this phenomenon is indicative to the rising power of China.
After taking a few photographs of the place… I bid adieu to this one of the seven wonders of the old world… this brought my count to three- after Giza, Alexandria. It was a poignant feeling, despite the fact that I didn’t see anything but a pillar.
The town of Selcuk is only a couple of meters away from the site… in fact it is said that when the ruins of Artemis Temple were discovered they were standing the danger of being engulfed by the town. Even today, not many in the town know or understand the real greatness of this monument… it hardly brings in tourists, it hardly finds much of mention in the tourist catalogues.
Selcuk… I realized… was a beautiful town… clean, gentle… almost picture perfect… the sidewalks of the town are full of citrus trees, and one just needs to reach out to pluck one of them to relish. People are very nice… it feels like a home-coming after the hurly burly of Istanbul. It was after-all a very nice decision to make Selcuk my next stop after Istanbul.
I was lost in my thoughts, when I was beckoned by three pretty girls. They must all have been in their early teens. The eldest one of them- Gulistan was her name was strikingly pretty. I wondered what they wanted from me. And as I realized later on… the object of their attention was the digital camera, which I was carrying… I complied… taking their photographs after photographs… and they kept on posing for me… it was a wonderful interaction… I felt like some fashion photographer… the youngest one of them… Gulnaz was particularly demanding… she chose to pose in very many ways… and ordered me to take photographs… at one point of time… she literally ordered me to stand on the bench and take photograph from a top-down angle…
The three sisters- Gulistan, Gulfam and Gulnaz- asked me how they can get a copy of these photos… I asked them if they have an email… they were sad… they had none… so I took their address and promised that I would post these photographs. A promise- still to be fulfilled.
At some distance, I saw a massive mosque like structure… it beckoned me… It was Isa Bey Mosque… Bey is a term of respect… something like brother or Mister. So this place translated into Brother Isa’s mosque.
The mosque is an impressive piece of architecture… it was different from other Seljuk dynasty mosque as in- the mosque precinct has a huge courtyard… I later found out that the mosque was not a typical Seljuk mosque. Its builders were Beyliks, small-time emirs of Seljuk area, who succeeded the declining Seljuk dynasty.
The court yard of the mosque is lush green; it could easily pass on as a park. I sat there for a while… and was planning to enter the mosque… when the tragedy struck.
Before starting this journey, I looked at my sneakers… they were quite old. So I thought that I would buy a new pair… and purchased a new pair from Kandahar… perhaps of Chinese origin… the shop-keeper assured me that the shoes were of high quality… and I gave 30 dollars to purchase it… but as it turned out at the Isa Bey mosque… the sole of one of the shoes were coming out… I was aghast. And then I told myself- well now that tragedy has struck find ways to get out of it… but only after you have seen the mosque.
I came out of the mosque… and started looking for a cobbler… I could find none… and then in one of the nearby shops, I saw a smiling gentleman… his smile was magnetic. I approached him and showed him my shoe… and asked if I can find some help nearby.
He was Imam Mustafa. The Imam of Isa Bey mosque… he told me not to worry and pulled out a packet of glue from one of his drawer and started working on my shoes… and within minutes he had mended my shoes. He was happy to hear that I was from Hindistan… and asked me to have a cup of black tea with him. He told me that he has learnt Arabic from Istanbul… and we started conversation in broken Arabic.
Arabic, I have realized, is close to the heart of every Muslim. It is his or her spiritual language… so no matter how much some Muslims may hate Arabs (Iranians, Kurds and Turks have no love or labor lost for the Arabs), they respect people who speak Arabic, especially when he or she is not an Arab…
Imam Mustafa was very happy to know that I knew Arabic… he almost assumed that I must be a Muslim… before parting he gave me a greeting card in which he wrote Bismillah Ar-Rahman Ar-Rahim, and then my name… he asked me to come again… next time with my family… and stay with him…
It was a numbing feeling to meet Mustafa Imam… Islam, today is identified with a lot of evils… terror, fanaticism… but if I had to spell out one, just one, over whelming feeling that I associate with Islam… it has to be brotherhood.
I wish that one day the fanatics would understand that the brotherhood in Islam is not only for Muslims… but for the entire humanity… whether he is a believer or not… Allah is most merciful… and so is his message.
The only remarkable thing, which can remind of the glorious past of this place… is a tall pillar… the only visible remnant of the great Artemis temple.
When I reached the place… I was flocked by a number of knick-knack sellers, who were selling replicas of erstwhile Artemis Temple, as also fake coins from the yesteryears. I also met a old Chinese couple, who was visiting the place.
During my travels to distant lands- I have found Koreans, Japanese as the most voracious travelers… however, now Chinese are also joining the band-wagon. This, to my mind, indicates two things- one, the disposable incomes of Chinese is on the rise… commensurate to their rising economic status… and two, they want to reach out to the world. Both ways, this phenomenon is indicative to the rising power of China.
After taking a few photographs of the place… I bid adieu to this one of the seven wonders of the old world… this brought my count to three- after Giza, Alexandria. It was a poignant feeling, despite the fact that I didn’t see anything but a pillar.
The town of Selcuk is only a couple of meters away from the site… in fact it is said that when the ruins of Artemis Temple were discovered they were standing the danger of being engulfed by the town. Even today, not many in the town know or understand the real greatness of this monument… it hardly brings in tourists, it hardly finds much of mention in the tourist catalogues.
Selcuk… I realized… was a beautiful town… clean, gentle… almost picture perfect… the sidewalks of the town are full of citrus trees, and one just needs to reach out to pluck one of them to relish. People are very nice… it feels like a home-coming after the hurly burly of Istanbul. It was after-all a very nice decision to make Selcuk my next stop after Istanbul.
I was lost in my thoughts, when I was beckoned by three pretty girls. They must all have been in their early teens. The eldest one of them- Gulistan was her name was strikingly pretty. I wondered what they wanted from me. And as I realized later on… the object of their attention was the digital camera, which I was carrying… I complied… taking their photographs after photographs… and they kept on posing for me… it was a wonderful interaction… I felt like some fashion photographer… the youngest one of them… Gulnaz was particularly demanding… she chose to pose in very many ways… and ordered me to take photographs… at one point of time… she literally ordered me to stand on the bench and take photograph from a top-down angle…
The three sisters- Gulistan, Gulfam and Gulnaz- asked me how they can get a copy of these photos… I asked them if they have an email… they were sad… they had none… so I took their address and promised that I would post these photographs. A promise- still to be fulfilled.
At some distance, I saw a massive mosque like structure… it beckoned me… It was Isa Bey Mosque… Bey is a term of respect… something like brother or Mister. So this place translated into Brother Isa’s mosque.
The mosque is an impressive piece of architecture… it was different from other Seljuk dynasty mosque as in- the mosque precinct has a huge courtyard… I later found out that the mosque was not a typical Seljuk mosque. Its builders were Beyliks, small-time emirs of Seljuk area, who succeeded the declining Seljuk dynasty.
The court yard of the mosque is lush green; it could easily pass on as a park. I sat there for a while… and was planning to enter the mosque… when the tragedy struck.
Before starting this journey, I looked at my sneakers… they were quite old. So I thought that I would buy a new pair… and purchased a new pair from Kandahar… perhaps of Chinese origin… the shop-keeper assured me that the shoes were of high quality… and I gave 30 dollars to purchase it… but as it turned out at the Isa Bey mosque… the sole of one of the shoes were coming out… I was aghast. And then I told myself- well now that tragedy has struck find ways to get out of it… but only after you have seen the mosque.
I came out of the mosque… and started looking for a cobbler… I could find none… and then in one of the nearby shops, I saw a smiling gentleman… his smile was magnetic. I approached him and showed him my shoe… and asked if I can find some help nearby.
He was Imam Mustafa. The Imam of Isa Bey mosque… he told me not to worry and pulled out a packet of glue from one of his drawer and started working on my shoes… and within minutes he had mended my shoes. He was happy to hear that I was from Hindistan… and asked me to have a cup of black tea with him. He told me that he has learnt Arabic from Istanbul… and we started conversation in broken Arabic.
Arabic, I have realized, is close to the heart of every Muslim. It is his or her spiritual language… so no matter how much some Muslims may hate Arabs (Iranians, Kurds and Turks have no love or labor lost for the Arabs), they respect people who speak Arabic, especially when he or she is not an Arab…
Imam Mustafa was very happy to know that I knew Arabic… he almost assumed that I must be a Muslim… before parting he gave me a greeting card in which he wrote Bismillah Ar-Rahman Ar-Rahim, and then my name… he asked me to come again… next time with my family… and stay with him…
It was a numbing feeling to meet Mustafa Imam… Islam, today is identified with a lot of evils… terror, fanaticism… but if I had to spell out one, just one, over whelming feeling that I associate with Islam… it has to be brotherhood.
I wish that one day the fanatics would understand that the brotherhood in Islam is not only for Muslims… but for the entire humanity… whether he is a believer or not… Allah is most merciful… and so is his message.
2 comments:
Welcome back -- was wondering on lack of updates.
Thanks!!!
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