This time last year In Oman in the Gregorian calendar. And because the party is a month long (although some would see it as lifelong), it’s not too different here in Sweden
Last year in 1440 in the same month of Rabi ul Awwal on the Lunar calendar, I tagged along Habib Omar’s annual trip the coastal town of Salalah, Oman.
Tonight for the first time in the main mosque in Gothenburg, they hosted a party of singing, quizzes and a presentation related to the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh).
Out of love, the old and the young, the big and the small ones came together celebrating his birth and his life.
A man knelt handing out balloons to queueing children that didn’t stop coming. With each of them he’d ask them their names, and sang praises to them as he elaborated the meanings and stories connected to the name of each child, mostly centering it around how that name connects to the Prophet.
We saw older kids distributing dessert plates to the attendees, and some older men with straining knees unable to contain themselves – stood up dancing on their own, cheering on the band.
He was born on a Monday.
When he (pbuh) was born, his cursed uncle Abu Lahab, celebrated the birth of his late brother’s son (pbuh) by freeing a slave. Despite all the bad he later did which doomed him for eternity, his torture in the Fire is lightened on Mondays.
Such is the depth of celebrating him (pbuh).
I wonder to what heights the angels get up to.
This time last year In Oman in the Gregorian calendar. And because the party is a month long (although some would see it as lifelong), it’s not too different here in Sweden
Last year in 1440 in the same month of Rabi ul Awwal on the Lunar calendar, I tagged along Habib Omar’s annual trip the coastal town of Salalah, Oman.
Tonight for the first time in the main mosque in Gothenburg, they hosted a party of singing, quizzes and a presentation related to the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh).
Out of love, the old and the young, the big and the small ones came together celebrating his birth and his life.
A man knelt handing out balloons to queueing children that didn’t stop coming. With each of them he’d ask them their names, and sang praises to them as he elaborated the meanings and stories connected to the name of each child, mostly centering it around how that name connects to the Prophet.
We saw older kids distributing dessert plates to the attendees, and some older men with straining knees unable to contain themselves – stood up dancing on their own, cheering on the band.
He was born on a Monday.
When he (pbuh) was born, his cursed uncle Abu Lahab, celebrated the birth of his late brother’s son (pbuh) by freeing a slave. Despite all the bad he later did which doomed him for eternity, his torture in the Fire is lightened on Mondays.
Such is the depth of celebrating him (pbuh).
I wonder to what heights the angels get up to.
