Khurrum Rahman - East of Hounslow

What the fuck did Khan know about the five pillars of Islam? I bet he couldn’t name them. The closest Khan had ever got to Mecca was driving past the Mecca Bingo Hall in Hounslow High Street. I wanted to stand up and challenge him. Embarrass him. But I didn’t because I had grown fond of my teeth.

Idris was right‚ I should have stayed away. I looked at Parvez who was hanging onto every word‚ every letter that was coming out of Khan’s mouth. I looked at my watch‚ aware that I had to see Silas in a few hours. With time to kill‚ I sighed to myself and sloped down in my seat as Khan continued.

‘It wasn’t us that flew into the Twin Towers. We were sitting at home watching Jeremy Kyle or whatever when that shit happened. But yet they continue to blame anyone of colour. That is our bleak future and that is now. This will never end‚ we must stand together side by side‚ hand in hand and build an unbreakable chain. The power of Allah reigning through us‚ and if any of those fucking pig lovers try to penetrate us‚ we will drop them where they stand. Without fear and without consequence‚ because we are protected by the Almighty. No one can touch us. We will no longer be governed by rules and by laws which are designed by the Kafir for the Kafir… So my message to them is simply this: You touch us… We’ll touch you back.’

I could sense that the room was about to overreact again and explode into madness. Khan was counting on it with his whole plastic prophet speech‚ wanting to add another notch to his legacy. But before anyone had a chance to react‚ Shariff‚ a local community worker‚ stood up and‚ much to Khan’s annoyance‚ turned his back to him and addressed the room.

‘Brothers‚ I would just like to say that today I am proud to be a Muslim. The support and unity was evident at the clean-up at the Masjid… And look! Look around you right now. Taking time out of your busy lives to help find a better way. But… This is not it. We must use our heads‚ Brothers‚ and find a peaceful way forward. Violence does not resolve violence.’

‘Oi‚ Gandhi‚ sit the fuck back down‚’ Khan countered‚ but for the first time the dynamic of the room altered. Partly because Khan spoke rudely to a valued member of the community‚ and partly because of what Shariff had said – find a peaceful way forward. People started to fidget in their chairs as silence descended. Shariff turned to face Khan‚ staring at him challengingly. One of The Twins stepped forward with intent but Khan held him back.

‘You make a good point‚ Brother…’ Khan said.

‘Shariff.’

‘Shariff‚ right‚’ Khan said‚ making a mental note. It was clear that Shariff wasn’t going to be on Khan’s Eid card list. ‘We have tried and failed to find a peaceful way forward.’

Shariff snorted. ‘Khan‚ don’t be a fool.’ I swear the whole room took a sharp intake of breath as that word bounced around from ear to ear until it reached Khan and verbally slapped him in the face. ‘There is not a peaceful bone in your body. You came here only because you saw an opportunity. What is it with you? Why are you trying to corrupt our minds with revenge and violence? Is there not enough of that already? Like so many of us‚ you are a husband and you are a father. Think about our families‚ think about how they would cope if something happened to us… to you. And for what? Huh‚ for what? We attack them‚ then what happens? I’ll tell you what happens‚ a white version of you will give a similar speech to attack us right back and round and round we go‚ never able to break out of this deathly circle. And I don’t say that lightly‚ because there will be death. Eventually and inevitably. Is that what you want on your conscience‚ Khan?’

Khan’s smile didn’t wane but there was no mirth in it. He just nodded‚ with calculated eyes. ‘Brother Shariff. You have your way and I have mine. There is one jungle and one lion‚’ Khan continued. Left Twin narrowed his eyes in confusion as to where Khan was going with this off-script jungle/lion metaphor. ‘And when the lion is cornered he attacks with everything he has. That’s what we are. Lions!’

‘We are not animals‚ Khan. We are—’

‘Enough‚’ Khan shouted‚ loud enough for everyone’s Wudu to be broken. ‘This meeting is over‚’ he declared. As he looked around the room‚ his eyes stopped briefly on me before flitting away. ‘If you want to go against me then go home and put on your lipstick and bangles. Whoever is with me‚ meet me outside.’ He inhaled through his nose‚ nostrils flared and then with a puff of his chest Khan declared‚ ‘Tonight… we are soldiers.’

Unlike the last time when he’d referred to us as soldiers‚ and the room went fucking mental‚ this time‚ not a murmur. I could see the look on his face‚ he wore a crazy expression. Nothing good had ever come out of that expression.

Khan tried again. This time thumping his chest with his fist. ‘Soldiers of Islam…’ Again‚ nothing. No reaction‚ or at least not the one he was hoping for. ‘Soldiers of Allah!’ Man‚ he was getting desperate. I noticed Parvez‚ battling with himself‚ squirming in his chair. Parvez had always hero-worshipped Khan ever since I could remember‚ and now I could see his eyes siding with Khan. He started to rise from his chair; I grabbed his elbow and tried to force him back down.

‘Parvez. Don’t be a sap. Sit down‚’ I pleaded. But he wrenched his arm away from my grip and stood up. He looked adoringly towards Khan and thumped his puny chest.

‘Brother Khan‚’ he said‚ his little voice carried comfortably across the room. ‘I am a soldier of Allah.’

‘Good man‚’ Khan said. ‘What’s your name‚ Brother?’

Ouch. I could see a glimpse of hurt in Parvez’s eyes. Last year when Khan had been in trouble with the police for scratching cars with private number plates and needed an alibi or something‚ I don’t know the whole story‚ but Parvez sorted him right out. So for Khan not to remember his name must have really‚ really upset him… But he didn’t let it show.

‘Parvez‚’ said Parvez.

Khan nodded‚ some distinct acknowledgement‚ but not much.

‘Parvez‚ and anybody else who wants to join me. I’ll be outside.’ And with that and a scowl‚ Khan stomped out of Ali’s Diner.

6

Let me tell you something about Muslims. And I’m talking about the majority here. Despite the contrary belief‚ we are a patient‚ tolerant and sincere bunch. We integrate with those around us. Really‚ we don’t care if you’re black‚ white‚ Jew‚ Christian‚ straight‚ gay‚ or a pre-op drag queen; we will sit with you and break bread with you. On Christmas Day we’ll eat a halal chicken with all the trimmings whilst watching the Queen’s Speech‚ and we’ll overdose on chocolate eggs at Easter. Some places in England don’t fully celebrate St George’s Day because it may offend Muslims. That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard. You don’t see us backing away when it comes to celebrating Eid‚ or the Hindus secretly cowering away in the corner when it’s Diwali. No‚ we give it full throttle and we go at it with gusto. The trouble is‚ it’s always the minority opinion that makes the waves. That’s what is printed and spewed out on the news with bells and whistles added for effect‚ with talking heads‚ fucking so called experts‚ adding to the propaganda. It’s sensationally sensationalised sensationalism.

Truly‚ most of us‚ we don’t care. Celebrate away. Fly that flag.

That is exactly what happened at Ali’s diner. Yes‚ we were angry. But actually going out there and carrying out the revenge‚ the act‚ it’s not going to happen‚ not by the majority anyway. But there are always one or two or three‚ and it’s these idiots that will make the news‚ fuel the gossip and form public opinion‚ putting us back to square one where we have to keep explaining ourselves – we ’ re not all like that ‚ it ’ s the fucking minority!