My Car & My Faith

I have a Citroen C5, which is a car I really love. It is big inside, and totally comfortable and quiet. It does not look flashy and fancy, but I like her understated elegance. I chose it because I feel it reflects what a car should be to me. It is powerful, well made, sophisticated, asthetic and yet simple in appearance, unimposing, unextravagant. Great on the inside but simple on the outside. Sort of Sufistic. Most people look and say, "Citroen? Why? I've heard all sorts of bad things about it. And for that price, you could get something better, more popular. Japanese or German". It is almost like they are talking about my choice of religion, not car. I then realised that it does have a parallel with religion. Being a Muslim is equally not about following the crowd and opinion of others. It is about looking beyond the externals and trappings. It is an experience that is personal to the believer. Like why my car is so special to me. I like the way she feels, the smell of her leather, the way the mahogany wood lines the interior understatedly, the unobtrusive gadgets and most of all, the silence of the ride coupled with the best suspension system in the world. It emphasises the experience than the show, how the car presents itself to its driver, and not to the world. I have come to an age when I realise that the external manifestations of religion are as meaningless to the believer as the outside look of the car is. It is how the religion affects the believer internally that is important, after all that is the main purpose of religion, isnt it? The driver, not the passerby, is more important in the case of a car. In the past, in my eagerness to judge people by their externals - no tudung, doesnt pray correctly, - or their "brand" - infidel, modernist, fundamentalist - I forget that I am just judging books by their covers, and then burning them all.