Flutter flutter. Over a year into COVID-19, a couple of months into talking of art, the Fynch has decided to bring you a little treat with the help of a few friends, especially Abdullah. We will talk of art, both God’s art and manmade.
This story will take you travelling in tones: a colour journey through the kaleidoscope of the Muslim world.
Beginning at the western frontiers of Asia, we move through the Balkans and Turkey, experiencing that cool blue shade that always gifts a soft and calm tranquillity.
Before we venture deep into the heartlands of Islam, we pay a sombre visit to Andalusia. The sun-toned and ageing stone is forever nostalgic of a paradise long gone.
Returning to commit to the vast voyage across the Muslim world, we pay a visit to our humble brethren in Azerbaijan, who embrace us with warmth and cheer.
Hardly do we cross the border into Uzbekistan, and we’re already stunned by the brilliant light of Samarkand and Bukhara. These are cities that never died, and their vibrant colours proudly proclaim a noble and rich history.
In Kyrgyzstan, the rocks speak and the water sings. The soft snow sets upon a land that once hosted the silk road; one that has thousands of years of stories to tell.
Moving south, we feel the heat of the sun gradually rise until we reach Palestine, a sea of golden yellow. It is a colour that expresses potency, that shines down on a people who know their value and who will never settle for less than justice and integrity.
In the deserts of Jordan, we stumble upon ancient ruins, crumbling signs of once proud civilizations that are now reduced to dust. The firm rock is all that has remained, and all that will remain.
The expansive, rocky lands of as-Sham occasionally reveal marks of settlement. A tower here, a tent there, all surviving and thriving under the hot sun. Arabia is a resilient land: Syria will bounce back.
We reach the southern coast of Yemen; Somalia is within reach. Cities here are built into rock. Houses are lined up, shoulder to shoulder, built by a people who can never be pulled apart because they know that their success is in their unity: shoulder to shoulder.
We hop across the Red Sea (in honour of Musa AS) and enter upon a battered and worn land, but begin to see a slither of life: the Nile. Cairo’s streets are strong.
Moving south, Sudan’s rich earth beckons us. Its people are among the friendliest on Earth, and its land is one of hope.
West into Morocco, the air dramatically cools as an Atlantic breeze passes over our skin, into which cool blues reflect and shine. Morning vibes.
Mali’s hospitality means that we also stay longer than planned. Here, ‘community’ has a whole new level of meaning.
Venturing up to the Tunisian coast, we can’t help but come to love the happy enclave on the Mediterranean coast in which we’ve found ourselves.
Back through the heart of Africa, we hear the song of Senegal. Colour was born here.
Straight across the Arabian Sea, Iran’s jewelled palaces call out. Khorasan is a chorus of light.
Returning to the old Silk Road, we move through Afghanistan and Pakistan: huge lands of a cultured and imaginative people. Their ancestors were Jahangirs (kings of the world).
Touching the foothills of the Himalayas, Kashmir sits firm. Its neighbours are tall mountains and vast clouds: it will never be subjugated by any tyrant.
Descending into Bangladesh, we feel the air thicken and its warm humidity embraces us. All we see is colour and all we hear is song.
Going North, we trace the steps of greats gone by. China is a land that was enriched by Islam, and China honoured it in return by gifting its Muslims the beautiful Great Mosque of Xi’an. Islam, once an official religion of the Chinese Empire, holds deep roots here.
Paying a visit to Occupied East Turkestan, we make a prayer for our Uyghur brethren and remember that God alone is the final victor. Tyrants will fall, and liberty will return.
In Indonesia, we are inspired by an enthusiastic and pious community of souls who live in a country that is washed by brown and green. The air is cool and the water is sweet.
Entering into Malaysia, our fatigue takes the best of us. Laying down at Putra mosque, a clear sky above becomes our blanket. We gently fall asleep to the delicate sound of waves meeting brick.