driveway

The truth

The car pulled into the driveway. The sun was halfway between the noontime sky, and its night time slumber. The engine rumbled and then with a sigh, turned off. The doors opened, various degrees of slamming, and they walked inside.

They were having tea. Some of them were having tea.

“I hear you kept all of the fasts,” a grandmotherly smile at the youngest. Turning to the eldest, “beta, why didn’t you?”

He tried to keep it in. I promise. But sometimes eruptions are imminent. “Which rosas? The ones everyone here keeps? You sleep all day, wake up for two hours, and then eat? What’s the point. What are you controlling? Everyone stays up all night and ends up eating more than usual this month. It’s a joke. What fasts? Still backbiting, still have pride, still shitting on others. What fasts? You want me to get a house double the size of his, a car twice as big as his? That’s your religion. Things. Big, shiny things. No wonder she’s so messed up. No wonder we’re all messed up. Hide behind the veil of religion and do all the things it forbids you from doing. Except for alcohol,sex, and drugs. Boohoo. What about being a good person. What about not backbiting? What about not being boastful or proud? Forget the material things. Just remember the ritual. What is the point of the ritual, if we can’t be good people. If we’re never good people. What is the point of anything. Just keep on being terrible and keep telling other people that their religion is off. Because all of you are just so very religious. And nothing matters. Nothing ever could. What is the point of any of this? All the drama and the lies. Your daughter made our lives miserable for most of our lives. The senseless beatings, breaking my arm, the bipolar confusion. Your son in law is emotionally unavailable. Sure he provided. But what use is money. It’s a distraction. What use is money when there’s no family to enjoy it with. Religion. You have the audacity to talk about religion. But your religion is just ritual. I may not be your level of religious. I may not pray five times a day. I don’t. I stopped fasting. I’ve committed sins. But at least I’m honest to myself. All they do all the time is tell lies. No love. Just lies. Beating. Abuse. Lies. What great Muslims. And if you think they are, then I don’t want to be part of this great religion. I’m not a good fit for it. If you think they are, then I’m here to tell you that I’m not religious and never will be. Not your kind. That I’m leaving Islam. Because your version of a beautiful religion is a scam. It’s a lie. It’s a hoax. You’re all fakes and phonies. Pretend to be civilized. You’re all animals. You would do better to run after wild animals, hunt them down, roast their carcasses on a fire. Because you’re no better than that. Primates.’