[The Race for God's Mercy]
A Compilation of Dialogues and Anecdotes on Solat and the Oversea Students
by YBLalat

Part 3: The Slow Dance Together

“Have you prayed yet?” asked Kamal, who was smoking Marlboro for breakfast.
“No – I am waiting for Kuceng to bring the prayer rugs.”

Then, along came Kuceng with the prayer rugs. He held out one rug at me and set out to lay down his just next to the red brick wall. I brushed off a small spot of coarse sand from the cement floor with the tip of my left shoe and placed my prayer rug next to his – our rugs are at shoulder-to-shoulder, corner-to-corner. He stared at me from the corner of his eyes as I placed my prayer rug that way, knowing from my gesture that I did not want to do the prayer as a jemaah. He got the message well - he did his takbiratul ihram first and loud. I was glad I did not have to go through the embarrassment of explaining to him that.

"Allahhu Akbar!" he led.
"Allahhu Akbar!" I followed.

**********

Have you prayed next to someone, who is also doing the same prayer as you, but he is at a totally different rate? He may be a bit faster on the recitation of the surah or a bit slower on the transition from one rukun to another, and that is perfectly fine with you, correct? My case, however, is a bit funny. Each time I pray next to someone, and by that I don’t always mean in a jemaah, I always hear these whispers in my heart and mind, telling me to look at the person next to me:

How are you doing, man? Good? Hey, mister, that was really quick, man. Take it easy, will you? We are praying to God, man, and not in some race to Heaven, alright? Did you even pronounce the Arabic words correctly, man? I mean, come on, that was the al-Fatihah that you were reciting. You can’t play the fool with that surah in a prayer, man.

Oh, already doing the ruku’, are we? What’s the rush, brother? Forgot to put some extra money into the parking meter or something? Whoa, that was really fast man! Just a few quick, one-tenth-of-a-second taps of your forehead on the prayer rug and you are already springing back and going for the second rakaat? Are you in the rush to go to the toilet, dude? Because, if you are, then, I am sorry to say this to you, your prayer is going nowhere but into the big drain in the sky, man.

Hey, come on now, slow down. Look at the guy next to me here, okay? Just compare the time he takes to do his Fatihah and the time that you take. I am not asking you to sing the surah or anything like that, but you know, read it slowly, alright? Try to absorb the feel of the words, so to say, and don’t skip the tajwid and all, alright?

Don’t you feel guilty, or maybe that people would look at you weirdly, when your 4-rakaat prayer is done just in a short time, man? I mean, others are still at the second rakaat and you are already giving your salam? Don’t you feel the least shame or anything like that, bro? Man, people would think that you are some lazy shit Moslem who likes to spend more of his time for the world and not for the akhirat, y’know?

Let me give you a rule of thumb on this, man. When you are praying next to other brothers, if the others are still not moving onto the next rukun, then you just stay there, man. Wait appropriately for the move, and kind of try to be in an unintended synchronicity, right? Make it look like, y’know, you are going with the flow of the masses. Then, when all of you are done, and are giving your salam, you could extend your hand and shake hands with the ones next and near to you and crack a smile, bro. That way, you kind of telling them, “Bro, I’m with all y’all in this, now?”

Have you heard whispers like that in your solat, or is it just me?

**********

“Assalamualaikum…warahmatullah”, he muttered.
“Assalamualaikum…warahmatullah”, I ensued.

Kuceng turned his face over his left shoulder and towards me. His eyes were still closed tight even after he had finished giving his last salam and his dark red lips were moving frantically like he was munching some betel leaves with his two front teeth. One of his hands then wiped the lower part of his face, merely touching the nose and the closed eyes. As soon as he had adjusted his two legs from the discomforting embrace of his buttocks, he craned his neck over to his right and then to his left – probably in search of me, who had my prayer done when he was still in his second rakaat. Once he had found who he was looking for, instantaneously, a silly red smirk tainted with the lifting of the two thick eyebrows emerged from all that serenity and bliss all across his face.

“That was quick of you,” he stated nonchalantly, with the smirk slowly becoming a grin.
“Hey, I’ve been praying my daily solat since I was ten, man.”