Sunset

On the last few episodes of Shahs of Sunset, the gang heads out to Turkey, where they have been invited by Asa, the Persian Pop Priestess as she adorably calls herself, on a family reunion, which she has planned for her mother who also lives in the US. Her extended family lives in Iran, and travels to Turkey to spend time in a deluxe condo that the show has rented out for them to have family time in. It's quite an interesting couple of episodes, and what I found particularly touching was the degree to which Asa, MJ and GiGi find peace and beauty in front of the Blue Mosque. Wow, I mean wow. These are totally secular, with the exception of Asa who is spiritual, American Iranians who find very little meaning in the word Islam, let alone the identity, yet they can not help but surrender to the beauty of the Blue Mosque and the sound of the call to prayer, reaching within them for supplication from their wordly persons. Asa sits proud and beautiful on the benches provided, and MJ and GiGi sit like two lost children being called home by a knowing and loving father. And while these girls have done nothing to sit shamefacedly before a seat of the almighty, there is still a lesson to be learned. That not only must we take time to smell the roses in this sweet life we are bestowed as human beings, but that we must also take pause, and appreciate the wild rose for its beauty, be grateful for its place in this magnificent world we are so lucky to be such a regal part of.
I have heard the Azon called out in the Middle East, and I, as a Jew, am truly moved by its soulful call, reminding me to take time, and pray. It is beautiful, and while I would rather sit in front of the Kotel, and feel the warm yet austere holiness that is Jewish prayer, togetherness, and appreciation for history, there is something we lack in supplication that the Azon attests to, something I am missing , which I wish we had too. It reminds me of Yom Kippur in my synagogue many years ago, watching a member of my community get down on the floor and pray like a yogi doing child's pose. I was so moved, I will never forget it. That is the same feeling I am talking about in the muezzin's call, but it is only on Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, that we have such sentiment ebbing and flowing in our hearts as we seek to be forgiven for our sins. And MJ and GiGi, on some semi-conscious level, sat themselves down, and took in a heavy dose of it as they cried for Allah's love. There was, of course, a feeling of connectedness to their Western Asian identity that had also moved them, which is definitely more selfish in nature, and something they sorely lack living in the US, but that only buttresses my argument into a new dimension of connectedness to the contextual self, the rose that lives inside of you, and allowing it to blossom in the most intricate of ways toward the design of its existence, with a pure heart, and eager mind, willing to be loved and taught, and yes, accepted. I am not a practicing Jew, but yet, I revel in the cultural springs of my heritage whenever I can/want to, be it through artful creation, philosophical contemplation, or in the simplest quotidian foods, stories and songs that make my life sweeter. That is the sweetest part of religion; the lifestyle that has been built around its beliefs, and the traditions that keep them in place, and when these girls sat down, they got a whip-plash reminder of what they are missing in LA, and it was a beautiful thing to observe.