I love Islam and cream soda

When I found myself back in prison, nearly two decades removed from my first bid,  I had to struggle with the humiliation of recidivism. For 3 years, anger, depression, and despair were constant companions that I grappled with behind bars. More formidable they were than any of the concrete, razor wire, inmates, or guards combined. Difficult was the loss of a relationship that I truly thought was going to be my last - and with a person I had considered to be my soulmate. How my then marriage had degenerated into an orgy of insanity and lies is something I've yet to begin to explain.

4 Oct 2012 - Panel discussion on the experience of living as a Muslim in the Rocky Mountains featuring: Tajuddin Ashaheed (at 27:35), Colorado Muslim Council; Dr. Moin Siddiqui, CSU professor emeritus; Zeba Siddiqui, children's book author; Monir Ludin, Chair of the Abrahamic Initiative Steering Committee. Moderator: Nabil Echchaibi, University of Colorado Boulder. This event was presented by the Muslims in the Mountain West Project during the conference, "Muslim Voices in the Heartland", a 3-day event featuring discussion panels with local, regional and national Muslim writers, journalists, scholars, and activists. This event was hosted by the Center for Media, Religion and Culture and the Center for Asian Studies at the University of Colorado Boulder.

Did a radio show today - check the podcast (click link below) Auset Maryam Ali Presents: Guest: Brother Taj

So, I am studying and trying memorize the 57th surah/chapter of the Quran, called al Hadeed , or "Iron"... At the 25th verse, God states He "sent down" (arabic: anzalna ) iron, which man uses for its various benefits. It is interesting that He says this as opposed to other verbs - and while this could be read in a metaphorical sense, I have been chasing the literal meaning. So, I wondered: "sent down" from where...? Dipping into cosmology, I find that nothing in our solar system is h ot enough to create nearly all elements on/in our planet, and that they occur as the result of supernovas elsewhere (from a loooong time ago), its expelled matter streaking across the universe, eventually collecting into the cooling mass that became our solar system and planet. Now, the Quran is not a science manual, nor do I subscribe to the notion that science is supposed to confirm the veracity of the Quran, but I am impressed when there is a confluence of the tw

My experience can be summed up by that scene in Rio in Furious Five, where The Rock's character tracks down Vin Diesel and his crew. The Rock is full of American puffery, with guns drawn about to arrest everybody, when Vin turns the tables, reminding him, “This is Brazil!” First off, I'm truly and sincerely sorry. And I know I must go beyond a mere apology and give some sort of explanation for my behavior. Truth is, I was being a dick. As a high level athlete representing a lone superpower in the greatest sports competition, I also carried a bit of pride and arrogance. I came to Rio, assuming it to just be a party  town enclosed in a third world country. With It's clogged rivers, corrupt politicians, and tainted mosquitos, it was easy to look at Brazil with disdain. Add to that, I simply had a less than stellar Olympic experience. I won a single gold, as the member of a relay team that featured my biggest nemesis as my teammate. Head to head against Phelps, I was a

The Chinese say, “May you live in interesting times.” My life right now is an intense struggle of faith and revenance. I've been “here” before. At 19, I was a full -fledged hoodlum and on my way to prison, toting a 16 year sentence for robbery and a high speed police chase. At 26, I was free on parole. I'd converted to Islam, had a wife, a baby, and a house full. My new faith gave me a new direction and improbable and amazing opportunities. I became a market research manager, specializing in political polling, a community activist, and a Muslim advocate and speaker. I also became a writer and editorialist, a Jujitsu and MMA fighter, and even a bouncer. My life was indeed interesting, to say the least.

Over a decade ago several brothers and I were conducting a fitness-and-fellowship class at our masjid (mosque) on Denver’s Eastside. Our program was a mixture of a physical, often times grueling regimen of workout routines and kenpo karate drills, along discussions, debates, and homework/essays about Islam, spirituality and self-improvement. Many of us who participated fondly remember the program to this day (and intend to resurrect it soon). One weekend morning, our brother Curtis happened upon the class and after observing for a time, pulled me to the side and asked me what I knew about jujitsu. At the time, I had little idea that Curtis was a Brazilian Jujitsu black belt instructor at a well-known school in Aurora. I told him I knew only what I saw on TV, watching UFC fights.   Then Curtis said these fateful words: “Let me show you something…”

"Nigga" is a spoken word... A poem I wish I never heard A haiku that tastes like a lollipop or butterscotch With a bubble in it that cuts the roof of your mouth when you suck too hard on it "Nigga" swirls an effervescent tingle at the back of your throat, Before it backflips quick off the palette like a gymnast Yet I wince,  Every time I see white folks hear me and my niggas saying it We use "nigga" like a slave masters last name Both lies about our past – that we adopt anyway "Nigga" hangs in our mouth like niggas hung in the south

It’s a constant question: What do men look for in a woman? Yet, it seems that every time it is asked, the answer is never very honest, or it’s clichéd or just plain off-target. And so the question goes.  And goes... So here’s an answer I hope will be appreciated. (As I write this, I am single – and looking.) Men, as humans go, are primal and what we look for in a woman is driven by primal and sensory instincts much more than we realize or care to admit. Sil... Ever watch the movie Species ? In one scene, the evil alien Sil, intent on mating and reproducing, rejects a potential subject after she senses (sniffs out) he is diabetic. We men are like Sil. Our selection of women is sensory. Our brain tells us to size up a woman and based on what we perceive, we select the one that we innately desire to have our babies in order to carry on our “line”. This explains why as much as we are interested in a woman’s brain, our eyes always stray to the b

The Universe always speaks and sometimes we are given a brief ability to listen. Tonight, I got a message… It was actually a 3-part message that culminated tonight. The first part was sent earlier today – I was in a meeting with a community-based organization and one of the ladies there shook my hand and remarked how soft my skin was. No biggie except that everyone in the office rolled with laughter as I stood there embarrassed – I mean, I’m a pretty manly dude (I think), heck, even a fighter, so I don’t imagine having soft hands, not the kind that get remarked on. Now let’s backtrack a bit to several months ago, while I was in prison. I got an online generated message from an old friend, “Rose” (not her real name), totally out of the blue.   Rose and I really don’t know each other but we have been friends for nearly 20 years. We have never met face to face or even had a direct conversation. We met originally on a couple religious message boards run by MSN, way back when,

When you’re poor You’re most likely born to a poor parent That parent most likely lives in Baltimore and with addiction So, it’s more likely you were born premature So you’ll live in the hospital and you won’t go home Until you weigh at least 5 pounds And home is most likely the projects Where the paint is peeling off the walls When you’re poor and a baby born in Baltimore, you learn real fast How to pick things up off the floor to put into your mouth Like binkies, cheerios, pennies And paint chips...

I've come back into the world to a Muslim father's worst nightmare. When I left my kid, she was all of 15. Now, she's 19 - and to my chagrin of chagrins, she has a boyfriend.  He aint Muslim. Yeah, I'm a bit perturbed. Okay, I'm pissed. I would like to have imagined that nothing like this could have happened in any type of reality. My religion is my life and so I have had every intent in making it as important to my child. After all, she is my flesh and blood and the only other person carrying my name (legitimately) – and because I am a first generation Muslim convert, it’s her I am relying on to carry on the family religious legacy.

Relating the story of Jonah, the Quran has it that it was his anger at the people of Nineveh for refusing his message of salvation that led him to flee from them and eventually end up swallowed by a big fish/whale. I have an inkling of what that type of anger feels like, having been in the belly of the beast (prison) once as a teenager/young adult and inexplicably again recently (being in my 40s). I am sure that Jonah’s own belly burned white hot with righteous indignation that covered up feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt. My own fire burned during my latest stint fueled by the fact that it came after nearly 2 decades of turning my life around from my first time down, as well as this latest conviction being the result of largely false accusations of domestic violence.