A journey on one of Alexandria's trams is not only a journey in the present, but it includes the past and the future, too. Just one block in from the Corniche, the tramline runs more than half the length of the city. The tramcar itself, of course, was made in an age when people had time to spare. They were not always busy, not always rushing about from one place to the next with no time for other people. On a tram you can't rush. You just have to go with the slow pace: trundling slowly from one station to the next; watching the different buildings from different periods and in different styles; watching people get on and get off; watching the whole of life go by. All of life can be found on a tram: babies and young children back from school; teenagers and young adults with the cares of the world on their young shoulders; married and single, middle-aged and old. All caught in a moment of time, as the world slowly passes by. Apart from its obvious function of getting you cheaply from one place to the next, a tram journey can be fun. It can be fun just to sit by the open window, the fresh air blowing against your face, and to watch everyone else going about their business. Cars rush by, sounding their horns, whilst the men in suits driving them talk on the latest mobile phones about nothing in particular and try to dodge the cyclists they are sharing the road with. Unnumbered people walk along the pavement or sit by the roadside, caught up in the business of their lives, with little time to think. A woman from the countryside might be selling lemons. Who knows how long it took her to get here and what time she will have to set off to prepare the dinner for her family. A fisherman might have his basket full of the morning's fresh fish, trying to sell them before the afternoon sun takes away their freshness. Policemen, having left their wives and children at home, are trying to steer the traffic away from chaos. Cheeky boys on bicycles weave in and out of traffic with newspapers or groceries. All manners of shops pass us by, reminding us with sights and smells of the things we need to buy. It can be a wonderful experience just to sit and watch the great parade of life. A free show at every moment of every day. And, of course, on the tram itself there is life. Decisions have to be made about who should stand up to let who sit down. Tired old ladies are offered a seat by students with the whole of life before them. Mothers with babies are given a seat by young men whose own wives and babies are waiting for them at home. Sometimes we avoid the glance of a person sitting opposite, whilst at other times conversations are struck up with complete strangers. The tram becomes more and more crowded with individuals whose lives will probably never cross again. Pushing and crushing, people look for their space. A tramcar full of people's lives and people's stories. It can be great fun. And yet what would happen if we were to die tomorrow? Would the tram stop running? Would the woman stop selling her lemons by the side of the road? Would the cheeky boys stop delivering groceries? We know that the answer is “no.” Life goes on, whether we are a part of it or not. People will be too busy to miss our empty seat on the tram. In fact, someone will very quickly take up the vacant spot to rest their weary bones, without a thought for our own. We read in the holy Qur'an in Surat Al-‘Imran: It is Allah who gives life and death. And Allah is All-Seer of what you do. Holy Qur'an 3:156 Let us be realistic, then, and enjoy the life which Allah has given to us while it lasts, making the most of even the simplest things, giving thanks for the smallest mercies, taking nothing for granted. Lived in the presence of Allah, our lives can be very rich. Even a tram ride can be fun. British Muslim writer, Idris Tawfiq, is a lecturer at Al-Azhar University. The author of eight books about Islam, he divides his time between Egypt and the UK as a speaker, writer and broadcaster. You can visit his website at www.idristawfiq.com.
