Spirituality isn't rigid dogma. It's a living, breathing practice that helps make sense of an incomprehensible world | Shadi Khan Saif

"When I was leaving London for Melbourne, my eldest sister-in-law told her kids not to forget the tradition to throw a bowl of water behind me as I stepped out the door. Just a small splash on the ground, a gesture older than borders. La har azaab po aman se, she whispered in Pashto under her breath may all hardship stay away from you. The little ones giggled and waved their goodbyes as they spilled the water, somewhere between shy and amused."

"My mother used to do this too, back in Afghanistan. Every time I left for a journey, especially international ones, she'd quietly follow me to the gate with a bowl of water, whispering prayers I couldn't always hear. But this moment, between two western cities, with children growing up in a world so far from where that habit began, felt different. It was softer. Bittersweet. Like watching an old song being hummed in a new language."

"I grew up between Kabul and Karachi; two cities that always felt like they were on the edge of something. One broken by war, the other always just holding itself together amid all sorts of hardships of a city outgrowing itself but starved of resources and infrastructure. In both, I learned that people survive not just through faith but through the small things they do when no one's watching; the quiet rituals and little beliefs that live in everyday life."

The narrator recalls a childhood split between Kabul and Karachi and a departure from London to Melbourne marked by a water-throwing tradition. Elders perform small protective rituals—throwing water, whispering prayers, placing black cloths, burning esfand, and marking babies—to ward off hardship, envy, and the evil eye. These gestures are intimate, habitual, and passed across generations. They surface softly in diasporic contexts, carrying memories and comfort even when practiced in unfamiliar cities. The rituals reveal how people sustain hope and protect loved ones through quiet acts rather than formal faith alone. The tone blends tenderness, bittersweet nostalgia, and cultural continuity.

Read at www.theguardian.com