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Visit to a cave...
It is an unassuming cave. It is located within a not too tall or big mountain of rock.
The access to the cave is a bit tricky. One climbs up the rock face. Then down and in a swirling
path comes to the entrance of this cave.
Just a small entry window, set amongst rocks. One could easily miss it, if one were not looking for it.
Inside the cave, again nothing special. Just like any millions of small, dark caves.
A man would periodically climb the small rock face and sit in this cave. Often for long times at a
An illiterate man. Everyone in town knew he could neither read nor write. His family, his friends, the
town folk. He was born here. Grew up here. Amongst them.
Everyone also knew him to be an honest and trustworthy man. This man who would never lie.
Come what may..He had never done so in his life amongst them. From birth.
They gave him the title of the honest one, the trustworthy one. Even those that disapproved of his
solitary ways. Quiet. Not given to social gatherings. No drink or frolicking. Not joining his people
in the merry making of late nights flowing with wine and poetry.
Many asked his uncles and family members to chastise him for not worshipping their gods. He
disapproved of their gods as much as he disapproved of the idol worshippers.. This antagonized the
majority..Sterner action might have been taken, were it not for the protection of his family; specially
his uncle. Murder would later be contemplated, but it would fail.
There were people of different faith in his town. They would observe times of fasting. This man
would retreat to the cave during these times of fasting. He was reluctant to discuss what he did
alone in the cave. His town folk went to the cave to find out what was inside. Nothing.
Bare rocks that would get extremely hot in the summer.
As was this man's custom, he went to the cave one time. He was forty years old.
The Voice said " Read ". Visibly shaken, afraid, he managed to mumble " I cannot read ".
The Voice repeated, " Read ". Once again he replied; " I cannot read ".
The Voice once more thundered, " Read ". Once more the reply, " I cannot read".
The Voice commanded " Read in the name of Your Lord that created you. Created you from a clot of
The word ' Read ' in its Arabic context is as deep as the ocean.
The rest is history.
The man's name is Mohammed ( PBUH ).
The first word of the Revelation from His Lord is " Read". Prophet Mohammed ( PBUH ) is forty
years old. The time of the year is the time of fasting for people of the Book. The place is the cave
in a mountain not far from Makkah.
The mountain is known as the Mountain of Light. The cave is known as the Hira Cave.
Unassuming today as it was around 1433H years ago. This is where it began. From here spread
every culture has its stories...
in scotland we have not spread anything other than bad hair, men wereing french skirts and a beautiful drink that is the water of life. 1.1 billion bottles exported in 2010 alone !
more people drink our water of life than belive in god - but it has been going for less time..
I don't belive in sacred ground as everywhere to me is equal....
I did enjoy the story you wrote and the image... the writing on the rocks is beautiful.. thanks for posting it.
Thank for looking in.
To those who believe Mark, some stories are more than that.
To others..' so what '.
Both are entitled to their views.
Then there is a historical element.
And an illustration of a cave ( entrance to a cave ) that
very few of the readers of OPF would have seen elsewhere.
Or even heard of. They seem not to have heard of many things. Just like me.
Different, but also similar, to one man fleeing along with his people and being pursued by a hostile
army ready to slaughter them. In front sea, A river. The army behind.
A man with a staff. A man leading his people out of bondage. 'Let my people go.'
Of course, even in Scotland they might have heard of this story. Right?
Story for some. More than a story for others.
Take care Mark. And have a bottle of Scottish Highland water on me.
p.s. This is not sacred ground. Far from it. Many would not give it a second glance. History.
Nothing more, nothing less. Unimposing and historical.
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