Cat stevens/ Yusuf Islam Life and Death of a Hero
The tears I cried on learning that Muhammad Ali has died were not from despair or anger, but from love. It made me feel like a small teenager again, being the young monkey I was when he burst onto the spotlight of the world’s boxing-ring stage. How we all loved and admired this young, brazen, beautiful black boxer who knocked out the world with his words and lightning punches. He made it possible for the underclass, whom he unashamedly represented, to rise to previously unheard of levels of muscle and pride. He landed on our planet around the same time as the Beatles, who also represented the ordinary kids like me, aliens from the street, and then won the world over with their songs, blasting with new electric melodious energy.
To belong to that 60’s generation is something I will be eternally grateful for, because it taught us that things can change when you believe in yourself and the cause is strong enough. It was Muhammad Ali who showed me you can be a Muslim, even as a home-grown proverbial Westerner, and not to be scared of what other people think. He refused to go to war and kill people he had no argument with. He represented East and West and what was best about America. I miss him, but hope to meet again in heaven. Ameen.
He also wrote one of the greatest and shortest poems ever, it showed his genius and perception of his role:
“Me,We!