“As we rode through the streets of Riyadh my wonder and amazement increased and increased… gone was the barren desert, and here were wide streets, gardens of flowers and green grass, mansions and villas…
The students who were with me, noticing my expression, started to explain proudly about the advancement that had taken place in the city. One of them, after pointing out every new and modern thing that there was to behold, said to me: “Is this the first time you’ve been to Riyadh?”
“I knew Riyadh before you were born”, I replied.
As the car pulled up to al-Deera district, and we reached the Grand Mosque, my face lit up, like one who, lost in a great crowd, suddenly sees someone he knows.
“This is the Riyadh that I know!” I said, “This is it, with its narrow souqs, and its mud and clay houses…
these are the abodes of my memories – and memories are what give life to a place.
Those modern buildings, for all of their ornamentation, are foreign to me, and these – despite the state they are in – I feel as if they are from me, and I from them.”
– Ali Tantawi (the Damascene, not the Egyptian mufti),
trans. w/ slight modifications fr. Fusul fi-Da’wa wal Islah.
