Once our home in Staten Island
“How has the country changed in your lifetime?” My son Saqib asked me. Oh my! Where do I even begin? How about at the beginning….the sound I never thought I would hear in New York of the 70s…
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“How do you feel when you hear the Muslim call to prayer?”
“I think it’s gutsy,” said a Jewish woman.
I am up at 4 am, jet lagged after a twenty hour flight to Pakistan. I pull myself out of bed, wobble down to my sister's kitchen, and brew myself a cup of chai. In the stillness of the night, I curl up with my tea and tasbeeh, reciting the names of Allah. The house is quiet, the night quieter. And then I hear it. The lone man's voice, beaming off the minaret somewhere in the vicinity,
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