The Heroine and The Butterfly Mosque

I was given two books, both of which I was hooked onto. One was a beautiful read, while the other one, painful and puke-inducing, in the goriest sense of the word. The first one, for the first time in my life made me proud to be a Singaporean, if only it means having that one similarity for my now-hero Dr Ang Swee Chai.

Dr Ang Swee Chai wrote the book of horror, as I believe it is now, on what she saw and faced on a day to day basis as a volunteer surgeon with the UN in Palestine. I am still reading the book, finding it hard to finish it because it was too painful to read. But I will finish it nevertheless for I admire Dr Ang’s courage, which I never knew a Singaporean could posses.

The second book, which I ‘gobbled’ in 2 and half days was The Butterfly Mosque by G. Willow Wilson. Willow, being barely 4 years younger than myself wrote about her journey to Islam in a memoir that blends woman’s fiction, philosophical lamentations of a junior journalist cum rookie wife and a dissecting column writer quirks. I couldn’t put the book down. I connect to it on many levels and it opened my eyes to other levels which were my blind spots. The Buttefly Mosque made EatPrayLove a book not to be taken seriously–which I never did, and between Wilson and Gilbert, it is obvious which one is a thinker and which is the fluff whiner.


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