I'm reinforcing my belief system.

Namaaz, my parents have repeatedly told me, is the best way to strengthen my weak religious beliefs. My mother's insisted that anything going wrong in my life is probably because I'm not praying enough and can be cured/fixed/remedied/undone by me saying my Namaaz regularly and preferably in jama'at. The reason my grades are bad is 'cause I don't say my Namaaz. The reason I'm still struggling to graduate from college is the same. The reason my personal life is in disarray is my lack of observance of Namaaz. My restless sleeping of late can obviously be attributed to the same. In short, everything that is wrong is because I don't say my Namaaz.

For once I figured I'd give my parent's way of thinking a bit of a listen. So here's to my first day of saying most of my prayers. Good boy I be!

The LUMS masjid was completed right after my turn away from religious practice which meant that I'd never spent enough time in it to be fully appreciative of the stunning design and decor. The masjid is a wondrous amalgamation of contemporary design and utility and Indo-Islamic art and decor all tinged with the modesty and no-frills approach of classical Islamic architecture. I'd been enamored of the dome and minaret since the day they came up. The shimmering crescent crowning them is a glorious sight in the early mornings. The plain outer walls have, however, hidden a true master-piece of contemporary Islamic architecture.

In no way does this masjid compete with the classics of Golden-Age Islam. Yet, somehow, it doesn’t need to because, for me atleast, it’s better than any I’ve ever prayed in before. Architecture and design are only one of the components which lend it this uniquely superior standing in my life. The decorative tile marking the square-arch (is that a paradoxical oxymoron?!) reads the ayat-ul-kursee in blue calligraphy typical of Persian and Indian Muslim art. I don’t know if it’s similar in other parts of the formerly-Muslim world but atleast in Persia, and consequently in India, the blue-tile calligraphy became all the rage. Similar tiles, in smaller design patterns joined to form squares, line the walls in the inner chamber.

I love the sanitary-white walls, especially under the yellow-light glow after Maghrib. I love the sunlight-throwing windows before Zuhr. I love the perfect setting of the shoe/bag-shelves and the wudu khana. I love the marbled floor and the absolutely stunning echoes that permeate through during aza’an.

Most of all though, more than any of the aestheitic qualities of this amazing structure, I love the fact that standing next to me at As’r yesterday was a man who did not fold his arms across his belly.

Go Figure!

P.S. I refuse to use the words 'mosque' and 'prayer'. Also, I refuse to italicize. Just a mood thing.