Such staggering sacrifice, such incomparable dedication, such unbelievable strength was shown within the dunes of Karbala that day. It is believed that the slaughter of Karbala was there to stay, still -as if it happened yesterday- hundreds, thousands maybe even millions gather up every year. To remember, to evoke what noble cause had the imam was martyred for. The scene will immortally remain in the hearts of believers, in the heart of every muslim on god’s green earth.

I still stand in respect and admiration; the crowds within the streets of Manama still shake me from within the depth. Year by year I witnessed them grow, year by year such strong belief took over my heart, year by year I’ve spelt the tears, I’ve lashed the chest and I still will for until my body dissolves within the sands of this country. The heartrending story of Karbala gradually grew to be a part of my daily thoughts, and with each lecture I listen to, with each book I read, realms of knowledge and thoughts started to open up in my face.

I was never really religious, heck, I wasn’t religious at all. Even thought I was fed islam at school. I was surrounded by its “instructions” and “guidelines” in TV in my social surroundings (to a certain extent), the propaganda of which the “only right religion” and “all others shall burn in hell” for their sins was shoved into my kiddy head in a way Fox news network needs to learn from. Amazingly, it didn’t work! I didn’t feel the “joy” of worship, I didn’t feel the guilt of the lie, and for which I shall burn in hell like a rat I didn’t feel like the poor when I fast!

How dare you! I thought, contradicting thoughts rushed into my head, it wasn’t easy to take a stand anywhere if you ask me. It’s still not easy today! Yet, when I really come to think of it, I see it the ideal way of raising a child. I was exposed to the religion in a very strict manner, parts of the quran were supposed to be stored in the memory, sayings of the prophets, and quran stories of the prophets were told as if we were all gathering around BBQ fire we watched the teacher tell us amazing stories of Moses and Suliman, I never go the moral of any of them. Yet today I know them like the back of my hand (which still doesn’t make sense to my simple mind).

My family wasn’t so religious, which balanced the equation to some extent, and added the spices to my “religious” beliefs (if any existed at that time). I just saw 5 times of prayer in 24 hours far too much a price for eternal life with rivers of honey and wine.

It was then I was introduced to Imam Hussain, through a raddled aza tape I got from my cousin, the words stuck to my head the described images of the battle were printed within the back of my head, like a child who was suddenly fell to a frozen pond I came to ask an innocent question.. WHY! Little did I know this question involved serious life changing, devastating thoughts..

I was blinded by everything else, I got so emotionally attached to the entire thing, it was a whole undiscovered portion of the religion. None of this was ever taught to us at school I thought, like a kid in a candy store trying one piece at a time. I was seriously overwhelmed by the discovery I had made.

Throughout university is when I developed my entire “religious base” if I may call it, it was there I was introduced to the idea of the Matam, to the thought of the imam (as), and through my readings and own digging I reached to where I stand today.

The story of Karbala suddenly evolved to be on my head all the time, day after day, night after night. I slept on the sound of lectures at night, and woke up to the sound of Aza playing in my stereo. Drifting away from it started vaguely, but was soon drifted back to proper course by either Ramadhan or Muharram, both religious festivals were my savior from all drifts.

I still have my contradicting crippled and somewhat inexcusable questions when it comes to religion. My mind simply refuse to digest the thought that god almighty will let me rotten in hell, and at the same time will supply me with virgins at heaven. I guess muslims today have grown to accept things the way they are. But, to me, with my limited exposure and somewhat weak basis I based my beliefs on, made me doubt everything –which again wasn’t as bad, I still struggle with cleaning my head from the poison I was fed at school-.

I still bow down in respect for the imam, for whom story brought me closer to religion; brought me closer to god, forever I shall stay a servant for you my imam. For such unmatched leadership, courage, and dedication throughout the history of mankind.