I embarked upon a mental voyage this week and ran a search through my memories for “The strangest thing…” Here are the results that I got back from my cerebral gūgle.

Something that I noticed as strange during my early interactions with Muslims was the parallels between how non-Muslims (amongst the ‘lad’ culture anyway) view an ability to consume greater amounts of alcohol than the next person as a sign of manliness and social status; and how some Muslims similarly view chilli/spice consumption levels as a means of distinguishing the weak from the strong.

I was introduced to this notion at meal times with my in-laws. Food is served with a side dish of green chillies for consuming with the meal. As I understand it the process goes: bite a chilli, have a mouthful of food, take another bite of chilli and have another mouthful of food. The person in the room who can boast that he eats the most chillies or the spiciest food as part of his daily routine, will inherently be the one with greater social status at the table/floor. If for example, one was able to relate that he has chillies on their Weetabix/Cornflakes of a morning, he would gain an aura of masculinity that could surpass all others.

My early attempts at this were moderately successful, but inevitably after one particular bite the chilli actually touched my tongue and the pleasure from this practice drained as quickly as the water jug did. I’ve had to come to terms with not having been weaned on exceedingly hot peppers from birth and so, as socially unacceptable as it is, I am forced to franticly answer ”No!” whilst extending my palm in a stop-sign motion, if I’m asked “chilli/garlic sauce?” in a kebab shop. The desire to accompany eating with pain is one that is lost on me.

Another thing that struck me as weird was how the term halāl is perceived as being synonymous with the word ‘curry’ by some non-Muslims. Similar to how vegetarians are constantly being offered salads, Muslims are pigeonholed by caterers who equate ”halāl” with curry. We’ve been in and out of hospital a lot recently and our nearest hospital is smack bang in the middle of a large Muslim population, so it is obliged to offer a halāl alternative to its Muslim patients at meal times. I watched as the trolley came around at meal times and some disgruntled employee would recite verbatim “Do you want beef casserole, Shepherd’s pie, jacket potato and salad or halāl?” This halāl alternative that you speak of, would it happen to in any way involve curry? Yes, halāl chicken curry. You don’t perchance vary this at all do you; I mean, it seems to have been on offer rather a lot since we’ve been here? Yes, some days we do chicken curry and other days we do lamb curry. So there’s no life outside of curry for Muslims then as you see it? Hmm, well you could always have the vegetable curry that we make for the Hindus if it gets too boring.

I’m actually quite down on hospitals at the moment based on what we’ve experienced. “Morning, let’s open these curtains up so you can get some fresh air.” No! Let’s close these curtains again so that my wife doesn’t have to sit in bed with her hijāb on. The object seems to be more to annoy you into leaving rather than to help you get better. Some staff that I met seem to work on the premiss that a patient’s inactivity is due to their laziness rather than them actually being sick. Doctors tend to be more respectful to patients in my experience but amongst the general staff on the ward I’ve met loads of unhelpful and surly people. My wife told me about when she overheard two midwives arguing over whose responsibilty it was to clean up a particular patient’s vomit “Let her clean it up herself, I’ve seen them (i.e. Muslims) washing their feet in the sink, so they can clean up their own vomit.” Strange logic.

Argument-wise, the strangest thing that anyone has said to me in a heated debate was “You’re not as tall as you think you are!” It was a statement totally unrelated to what we were arguing about and I couldn’t help but laugh when my colleague resorted to it as his rebuttal. I don’t recollect ever having made a reference to my height at work, I don’t tend to slip my height in cm into a conversation, nor do I wear high heels to work in an attempt to deceive others about my loftiness. I tend to base my height perception on the figure the GP mentioned when I last attended a routine a check-up. I’ve certainly never noticed a disparity between my perceived and actual height. At the risk of sounding prejudiced against those shorter than me, I suspect his motivation was some internal dissatisfaction with his own height, wa Allāh a’lam. He later denied having said it but I do enjoy bringing the topic up periodically and stressing that my perceived height is currently inline with all recent recordings.

Amongst the most bizarre sights I’ve ever witnessed was the first time I saw “The Beardigan.” A large part of my youth was spent hanging around street corners and shopping precincts with friends, the monotony of which would lead us to think up names for the various residents of our estate as they walked by. There was “Enamel Foot”, “Wife beater” (who took particular offence when one of my friends mistakenly said it too loudly in his presence), or the more innovatively named “Him with Her” a gentlemen who was frequently seen with a particular lady and so became known to us as “Him with Her” or “Him without Her” on the odd occasion when he’d be seen alone. So the day that I spotted a man walking his cat, he just seemed to beg being named. I was previously familiar with the dog – leash scenario, but watching a grown man walking his cat on a lead seemed somewhat unique. So I latched onto the first physical attribute I could spot, his facial hair, and so he became “The Beardigan.” The irony of this name wasn’t lost on me when later in life I became Muslim and found youth calling me names as I walked by.

I think the funniest thing that I ever witnessed first hand, and which I’m sure won’t translate well into print (but I’ll try) as it’s one of those “had to be there” moments; I was at my grandmother’s house playing outside on my skateboard (and despite what you may think of me, this wasn’t recent) when I noticed an elderly lady walking along the pavement. She paused as she noticed something hanging from her shoe and shook her leg in an effort to dislodge it but was unsuccessful. I couldn’t make out what it was from where I was standing, maybe it was a sweetie wrapper, I didn’t know. The lady decided to stand on the object with her free foot and pulled away from it in an effort to free herself from this unwelcome attachment. But no joy, in fact the fawn coloured object only increased in length. So again, she stood on it with her free foot and attempted to pull free, and once again it only served to increase its length. She looked down to inspect the ever growing elasticated object. Perhaps it was the accompanying pulling sensation that she felt down her leg with each attempt to rid herself of this hanger-on; but she realised that she was actually pulling at her own tights, and somewhat embarrassed at the audience, she quickly stuffed the greatly stretched material back into her shoes and made off, leaving me with one of my favourite childhood memories.

But the winner for me and the strangest thing that I’ve ever witnessed in life has to be the affair of the person who has Islām presented to them and yet they reject it. A common statement that I hear from Muslims who have asked me about my reversion to Islām is “I think it’s amazing that you became Muslim!” But I always counter with “What I find more amazing is that someone could be shown the truth of Islām and yet they don’t act upon it.” When I was given da’wah, my flatmate at the time was more informed about Islām than I was. Yet when it came to it, he was too caught up in dunyā to submit to Allāh. He even met a girl who was similarly well informed about Islām and would say to him “I know that Islām is the truth but all I want to do right now is smoke weed and have fun.”

“Have you seen him who takes his own lust (vain desires) as his ilāh (god)? And Allāh knowing (him as such), left him astray, and sealed his hearing and his heart, and put a cover on his sight. Who then will guide him after Allāh? Will you not then remember?” (al-Jāthiyah 45:23)

Have you ever seen such a person? It’s certainly the strangest thing that I’ve ever seen. May Allāh keep us steadfast upon the straight path - amīn.