My True Story of Ascension to Heaven!
Mi’raj of Ali Sina and Visiting of Allah!
Dr. Ali Sina
March 25, 2010
Buraq who took Mohammed from Earth to Heaven and back!
Mohammed’s saddle is on Buraq’s back!
I want to thank the Islamic Scientists (Olama) who by asserting that Mi’raj (Ascension to Heaven) is scientific gave me the courage to come out of the closet and write my true story. My Mi'raj took place some time ago, but I kept it a secret up until now. I feared being ridiculed by the rationalists. But now that I know Muslims can prove Mi’raj is scientific, I am not afraid anymore. I still don’t understand the scientific part of it, but I am sure that my Islamic Scientist friends can explain it.
This is my true story of Mi'raj.
Dear Islamic Scientists, you don’t have to prove that Mi'raj is true and scientific, at least to me. Actually I had experienced it myself!
One night when I was just minding my own business, I heard a noise outside. I opened the window and there I saw Angel Gabriel jumping into my room. I was startled. He told me not to be afraid and that he meant no harm. He spoke in perfect English. I was shocked and did not know what to say, so I asked a stupid question. “You speak English!” I stuttered. “Sure", He replied in American accent, "it’s the age of the Internet, you got to keep up. We had ESL (English as Second Language) classes in Heaven and all the angles now speak English.” His friendly mannerism put me at ease. I asked to what I owe the honor of being visited by an Archangel? He smiled and told me to get ready that I have a rendezvous with my creator. My heart sank. “What? Me? Why? But I am not ready! Has my time come?” I stuttered worriedly. I was really frightened.
“Don’t worry”, he told me. You’ll be alright. You’ll be back home safe and sound. Then he gave me a box wrapped in gift paper. “A gift for me? Thanks!” I said. I opened the box and it was a sparkling white suite and a red tie. It was so elegant that I had never seen the like of it in any Oscar nomination. “Put them on,” he told me. I really liked myself in that suit. It actually made me look thinner and a lot more handsome.
Then he told me that sometimes he has to wash the heart of the visitors to Heaven. This made me frightened to death. I recalled reading that he had taken Muhammad’s heart out of his chest and washed it with frigid cold snow before taking him to his Mi'raj.
Gabriel noticed the panic on my face and told me, "calm down, I have an X-Ray vision. I saw your heart and it is clean. There is no need for washing it." I was relieved for not having to go through that excruciating experience. Then he added, “We washed Muhammad’s heart with snow. In those days, we angels, like you humans, were ignorant. Later we discovered that snow, although looks white and clean, has no cleansing power. As the result Muhammad’s heart was not clean at all and he ended up doing a lot of evil things.”
Suddenly I saw a huge bird covering the moon descending towards us. “What is that?” I enquired. “Oh that is Morghollah” he replied. “She is the bird of Paradise. Think of her as the heavenly limousine. She will take you to Heaven”. “What about the Buraq?" I enquired. "The steed that took the Prophet to Heaven in his night of Mi'raj?" "Oh that old donkey? Buraq is just an ordinary taxi compared to Morghollah. He carries cargos and sometimes guests of low profile", He said.
Morghollah landed gracefully in the backyard. She was a huge human-bird mélange. Her wingspan was roughly 10 meters and her feathers were in the color of the rainbow. Her body looked like a big white eagle, with the head of a human. Her face looked like that of Keira Knightley. She had a beautiful long colorful feathered tail. I mounted her not like a rooster mounting a hen but like a man mounting a bicycle. I must admit it was an embarrassing situation. I wondered why in heaven they still use live creatures for transport. We humans now use various forms of machines. Haven’t they caught up with technology in heaven?
There was a saddle fastened to Morghollah’s back; I sat on the saddle and she asked me to buckle up. I did as I was told and she became airborne. On the way up she told me that a few of her passengers that were called to Heaven to be anointed as prophets, fell from the sky to their death and that is why it is mandatory that all visitors to paradise wear their saddle belt.
Morghollah soared and I could see my house from above and then the lights of the city. We kept going higher and higher. I could feel the cool breeze on my face, which was very refreshing.
I know this story is unbelievable, so like Muhammad who noted a passing caravan to validate his claim I noted the traffic heading in and out of the town to prove to the incredulous reader that what I say is true. It was a heavy traffic.
Finally, Morghollah stopped and Gabriel, who was leading the way came to blindfold me. I asked why? Am I being kidnapped? He gave me a reassuring smile and said, “No, it is for your own protection.” He explained that if I know exactly the address of heaven, the humans can extract it from me and now that they have invented airplanes they will turn Paradise into a touristic destination and will spoil that lovely place. The inhabitants of Paradise don’t want anyone to come and disturb their peace or the pervert voyeurs glance at their naked houris. I consented and we rode another 30 minutes or so at a speed that I believe exceeded that of light.
Finally, Morghollah stopped. When they removed the band from my eyes, I saw such a beautiful place that words cannot describe - a garden of flowers and lush trees, rivers of wine, honey and milk flowing in its midst, voluptuous houris semi naked, with firm breasts strolling up and down the boulevards! Bearded men were drinking wine and each one having a bunch of houris around them. It was just the way Muhammad had described – a feast for your male organ. Tablets of Viagra were on every table. This was the evidence I needed to know that Muhammad was a true messenger of Allah and he was not lying when he spoke of his ascension and his visit to Paradise.
In some places I had to turn my head the other way. Some of these guys were having orgies with their houris; threesomes, foursomes, up to 73 somes – one bearded man with 72 gorgeous looking houris. That was all they did in Paradise. They ate, drank and had sex, day and night. There was no need for books and no wasting one’s precious time in useless intellectualism. Paradise is about perpetual erection and heavenly orgasms. It is a huge brothel.
I admit that I was excited. I had read Muhammad promising all these goodies to the believers, but never believed him. A blond houri approached and gave me the most charming smile that melted my heart. She asked, “Looking for a date?” I looked at Gabriel for permission. She was just the kind of woman I like. She was skinny, tall, with a beautiful smile, a Hollywood kind of girl; much better than Pamela Anderson and Julia Roberts combined. I exclaimed “Fa tabarak Allah ahsan al khaleqin” (praise be upon Allah the best of the creators). I knew this is the right thing to say. This was what Muhammad exclaimed when he saw his own daughter in-law, Zeynab, semi nude, and fell in love with her.
I said to myself, "Oh man, this must be Paradise! Sure Muhammad knew what he was talking about." But Gabriel said that we don’t have time and Allah is expecting you. I asked whether we could stop for an hour or so after the meeting with Allah is over? He answered in negative and told me that I cannot be with a woman who is not either married to me or is siqeh (temporary marriage), but when I die I can have as many houris as I like and bang any woman that I fancy. Suddenly death seemed so enticing. I realized why Muslim jihadists are so eager to become suicide bombers and do not fear death. Of course with that much sex in paradise who does not want to die?
We kept walking. It was like walking on the clouds. Amazingly I saw very few women. There were a lot of houris but not many women. There is a difference between a normal human woman and a houri. Houris are white, so white that you can see their bone marrow. They are translucent, like a Bic ballpoint pen. You can see inside them.
This was how Muhammad described the houris and he was right. But honestly, I prefer non-translucent houris. I don’t want to see through the woman I make love to. Make love to a skeleton does not turn me on. Somehow it spoils the fun for me.
I asked where the real women are. I wondered whether woman have a separate paradise like in the mosques. After all it made sense to me because I did not think Muslim men would be too happy seeing their wives being gangbanged by a bunch of heavenly hunks.
However, the Angel said that Paradise does not have a separate compartment for women, "the majority of women are in Hell" he told me. “In Hell?” I screamed in shock, "Why?" “They are in the Hell because they disobeyed their husbands, became feminists and wanted equal rights”, He replied. “This is a big sin. Allah has created woman from the crooked rib of man to serve him and be obedient to him, but women keep asking equal rights, so when they die Allah sends them to Hell.” The thought came to my mind to say that Allah should have created the woman from a straight bone like the shin and not a crooked bone. So it is not really women’s fault to be crooked and disobedient. But fortunately I did not say it. After all I was a guest.
I felt a bit sad however. I thought this was somewhat unfair. But hey, who am I to question Allah’s wisdom? Allah knows best, I reminded myself, and stopped thinking. This always works. Anytime you don’t understand something and it sounds to you absurd, remind to yourself that Allah knows best and stop thinking. It works like a charm. You will stop thinking and your faith will keep growing. Thinking is the nemesis of faith.
I recalled Muhammad's saying that in his Mi'raj, when he visited Heaven and Hell, he saw that the majority of the inhabitants of the Hell were women. I thought Muhammad being an old guy with a bevy of young wives and concubines said these things to scare his teenager wives into obedience. I always thought women should have equal rights, but how wrong I was. Allah actually created women to serve us man. How nice of him. I finally realized that the Prophets told the truth and that it was all part of God’s plan to make women subservient to of men.
Anyway, we kept walking until we reached a pearly gate. It opened automatically as we approached. “Cool hah?" Said Gabriel. He explained that this door can recognize the person approaching by reading the retina of his eyes and if that person is authorized it will open automatically otherwise it won't. I thought it was a miracle, but he said that the gate actually operated with a gadget that they got from the Earth. Then he explained that in Heaven they use a lot of earthly inventions. He chuckled and said since the Internet became popular even God has learned how to use it and is now hooked to the Internet. "The angels now do most of the godly duties," he confessed, and added "Allah is always busy chatting with people through the Internet. He does that with different aliases and screen names. People don’t know that they are chatting with God. He loves it because he always liked to talk to people hiding behind a messenger. Now he can do it hiding behind a computer."
The door opened to a huge garden full of lights and delights. I asked, “Where is this place?” Gabriel replied, “This is where Allah lives.” It is his house. “What about the Ka’bah?” I asked. He looked at me and said, “Are you crazy?” Ka’bah has never been the house of God. Why would he leave this beautiful mansion and go and live in that windowless cube in the middle of desert? Ka’bah was the pantheon of idols. God has never been close to that place. “But so many people go there every years performing hajj. They think it is the house of God.” I said. “I thought you are smarter than that.” He responded. Have you seen inside that building? It looks like a large windowless prison cell. Why would God want to spend any time there? “It is not just me; all the Muslims think Ka’bah is the house of God.” Gabriel rolled his eyes and shook his head. How come I never had thought of it before? What Gabriel said, made perfect sense, but few Muslims seem to use their brains to come to such an obvious conclusion. As if reading my mind Gabriel, who was walking one step ahead of me, turned around and said, “There are a lot of things you humans hold sacrosanct that are nonsense.” “Yes, but someone should have told us this…” “Told you what?” He interrupted me. “You are all given a brain. Isn’t that enough? Would you rather be blindfolded and told how to avoid the pitfalls or given a set of eyes so you can see the danger on your own?” “The latter of course,” I replied, even though I knew the question was rhetorical. “That is what God did,” Gabriel said. “He gave you brain to find your way.” Gabriel was right. I could not argue with him.
At this point I saw a huge palace made of gold and crystal, decorated with all sorts of precious stones. We entered the foyer, through the first hall and the second hall. I saw many angels. They bowed in front of me as I passed and I bowed back until we met a man in his early thirties with long hairs and a white garment reaching his ankles waiting in front of the stairs. He greeted me warmly as if he knew me and was expecting me. I am pleased to meet you Mr…?” I waited for him to introduce himself. “I am Jesus, the Son of God,” he said. “Ah Jesus!” I exclaimed with excitement and joy. I was very happy to meet Jesus in person. I wanted to prostrate and kiss his feet but he did not let me. He was very humble. Instead he hugged me like a loving brother. I was filled with his love and my spirit uplifted. “But why he says that he is the Son of God?” I wondered. “Didn't the Prophet say that God was a eunuch and he could not have children?”
My thoughts were interrupted when I was introduced to other men similarly dressed. Jesus introduced one of them and said, here is your ancestor Zoroaster, say dorud. I greeted Zoroaster the Iranian style and was overwhelmed to see my noble ancestor. His face was radiant. He exemplified good words, good deeds and good thoughts. There were other prophets, who had come to welcome me. I exchanged greetings with all of them. They all introduced themselves. I was overjoyed so much that I even forgot about the houri that I had seen a few minutes earlier. This was a feast for my soul.
I was eager to see Muhammad, but he was not among the crowd. I asked how is he doing and when will I have the honor to meet him. They all looked down apprehensively. “What? What has happed to him? Is he dead?” I asked worriedly. “Of course he is dead” Jesus chortled. “We are all dead, you silly. He is just not in Paradise”. “Where is he then?” I enquired anxiously. “He is in Hell”, responded Jesus. “In Hell?” exclaimed, “What is he doing in the Hell? Is he in charge of torturing the infidels?” I knew that the Prophet loved this job and he would have volunteered to do it even if no one asked him to. “No", said Jesus, "he is in the Hell being tortured himself. They make him drink boiling water and toast him in the blazing fire, while the demons rip his body apart. Didn't Dante tell you this? "Yes", I said "but he called his book the Divine Comedy.” I thought it must be a joke. "Oh well", sighed Jesus, "When God started this whole business of sending messengers, it was supposed to be a comedy. The idea was to keep people amused and teach them a thing or two. But it went out of hand, people started killing each other and Muhammad massacred thousands of those who did not believe in him. It ended up becoming a big tragedy and no one is laughing anymore. After that disaster, God stopped sending messengers and hence Muhammad, by virtue of his mischief, became the last messenger of this failed divine plan.
“The Prophet is in the Hell being tortured?” I could not believe my ears. “But he was a prophet after all wasn’t he?” I exclaimed, maybe a bit too excitedly. “Hush!” Jesus bade me with his index on his lips. “Dad is upstairs, he can hear you.” He said softly. But it was too late already. His Dad did hear me.
A stereophonic voice sounded in the palace: “Yes” spoke God “We sent him to Hell because he lied and killed our children wrongfully blaming it on Us." The voice was coming from all directions and I thought there were a multitude of gods all talking at the same time in choir. I looked around, very confused, but saw no one. Zoroaster came forward, he put his arm over my shoulder and said, “hamshahri don’t be afraid”. (Hamshahri in Parsi means compatriot. That is the informal friendly way we Iranians address each other.) He spoke to me in an old pure Parsi language and said: “This “WE” that God is so fond to use is the WE of majesty. There is just one God, but He likes to talk in plural because it sounds more majestic. Now son, take off your shoes and climb these stairs, don’t make God wait. He wants to see you. Hurry up… go.” I was frightened, but they assured me that there is nothing to be afraid of and God is a good god and Muhammad was a pathetic liar who presented him as a fearful God.
As soon as I took off my shoes, Jesus made me sit on a chair and a basin and a jar of water was brought and he washed my feet. I wanted to do it myself, but he insisted and said it is his job. I thought he is trying to set the example of humility. What a difference from the example set by Muhammad who acted like a narcissist all his life.
After I dried my feet I climbed the stairs and entered a huge room full of light. However the light did not dazzle my eyes. It was a serene atmosphere. I heard some soft music. I looked at the left of the room and saw Vivaldi playing violin. I greeted him with a smile; he acknowledged me with a nod and a winkle and continued to play. I advanced further towards the light. Then I looked at the source of the light and saw a being. It saw a throne and on the throne it was Him. Don't ask me in whose presence I was standing! I was standing face to face with the quest of all mankind, the desire of all the mystics and saints, the object of adoration of all the inhabitants of the Earth and all the denizen of Heaven. I was in the presence of no one but the maker of this universe, sitting on his throne with majesty and glory.
I fell at once on the ground and started kissing the marble floor and exclaimed; "Glory be to Thee the Lord of all the creation and the desire of all the nations". I looked up and could see that God was pleased to be praised. He liked adulation. So I continued. "Praise, Praise, Subhanika, Subhanika, halleluiah, hari hari...." God was delighted to hear his praises. I wanted to continue, but he said that is enough, and asked me to sit on a chair next to him. He said that I was lucky to be allowed to see his face. He would not let Muhammad see him, he told me. That is why when Muhammad was summoned for his Mi’raj he was interviewed from behind a curtain. God also told me that Muhammad mixed a lot of lies with his message, that most of the verses in the Quran are Satanic Verses and that he was not the preferred messenger as he claimed to be. He said that they called Muhammad up and showed him the Hell to warn him that he is not above the law and if he screws up that is the place that he would be sent to. But he did not listen and he abused his powers. “Do you know what punishment awaits a messenger that breaks our covenant?” God shouted into my ears, spraying his holy saliva all over my face. I was so shaken that I almost peed in my white new pants. I remained silent. “Twice the punishment of an ordinary man,” He screamed.
I kept quiet until God calmed down. When I recovered my composure I summoned enough courage to ask meekly, “What did he do?” I said this to break the silence and pretend that I am okay. My voice barely came out. God's face turned red once again and said, "That SOB lied in my name. He killed innocent people to impose his own dominance. He raped their women, stole their properties and instead of teaching people Our Word by good example, instead of showing them how compassionate and merciful We are, he forced them into submission by sword. We never told him to kill. If we wanted to kill the unbelievers we could have done it ourselves. He abused Our name and did what he wanted all for his own personal gain. Now he is going to spend all his dead existence in Hell."
I kept silence until God calmed down again. I thought Allah is too angry with Muhammad and it is better if I don’t bring up his name. He noticed how uncomfortable I was and in his divine wisdom he changed the conversation. He looked at Vivaldi who had stopped playing his violin when he saw God is shouting angrily and told him to resume. Then he asked me whether I preferred tea or coffee. I said, my Lord knows best. He smiled and ordered cappuccino. I was then sure that he was the true God. How else could he know that I like cappuccino?
In that meeting God told me a series of things about my duties. He gave me all the instructions. I said I might forget all these things! “Don’t you worry son", He replied,”We’ll send Our instructions to you by email every day. In this way there will be no confusion." Then he added "We had a lot of difficulties with that illiterate Muhammad. We had to convey the verses to Gabriel, Gabriel would relay them to Muhammad and Muhammad would read them to his secretaries. A lot of Our original revelations got lost in this way going from mouth to mouth. Then some of our revelation was eaten by a goat. Can you imagine that? Satan also was in touch with Muhammad and gave him verses. Of course Satan's Arabic is not as good as ours. Sometimes Muhammad’s secretaries would suggest improvements to the satanic verses and he would accept, then he would go and kill them if they revealed this to others. As if this was not bad enough Muhammad often mistook Satan with Gabriel and would write Satan's words in the Quran. In one occasion, when he praised Lat, Manat and Al Uza (Pre Islamic Totems), Gabriel caught him. He admitted that the words he wrote were satanic verses and retracted. But most of the times he got away with it. That is why the Quran is full of violence and errors. Instead of a book of guidance, it turned out to be a manual for terrorists. Do you think we would tell some of our children to kill our other children? We can kill whoever we want whenever we want. We have earthquakes, tornados, tsunamis, floods, viruses and all sorts of mass killing devices in our disposal. Why would we need a messenger and his followers to kill people? You people must not kill each other. Giving life and taking it is Our job. Your job is to take care of each other and love one another.
Then God started talking about other things. He told me how hard it is for him to manage the whole universe single-handedly. He said that he had been thinking of finding a partner to share some of the tasks but had not been able to find a good reliable god in the whole universe that he could trust. He said that he was looking for someone to do most of the work, without expecting praises from people. "I don’t like someone else to be praised beside me", He said. "I know it does not sound nice, but what can I say, I am a little jealous." “Yes I remember my Lord, you said that in the Bible,” I replied. He smiled and said. “You seem to have read the Bible haven’t you?” “Yes my Lord I have,” I responded. “However, I could not understand what you meant by being jealous. Of whom are you jealous of if there is no God besides you? Isn’t it a bit…” I paused, trying to find a good word. “Paranoid? Is this the word you are looking for?” I was embarrassed. I did not want to say this word. After all paranoia is a sign of psychopathology. But God read my mind again.
Then he told me something that I will never forget. He said, there are many things in His younger days that He said of which He is embarrassed today. “How is that possible my Lord?” I asked. “Aren’t you perfect?” “Yes of course I am perfect,” He confirmed, “as perfect as is human imagination.”
tried to grasp the meaning of these words. He smiled and said, “I see you are puzzled. There are things that you must not know. These are the forbidden fruits that thou shallt not eat or thou willt be kicked out of the Paradise.” He said this and broke in laughter. I laughed too without understanding what he actually meant. “Oh you will know when you what to know,” He said smilingly. “But this is Paradise and not the place for it. To come here you have to be a fool, for "The foolishness of God is wiser than the human wisdom." “Yes my Lord I read that in 1 Corinthian 1:25.” I said. “Do you really want us humans to be fools? If so, why did you give as a brain?” “Your brain is the product of evolution son,” He told me. “And who are you,” I dared to ask. “I am the product of your brain,” He responded with a naughty wink. “So you mean…” He did not allow me to finish my sentence and said, “Yes. And that is why I am at the same time loving and fearsome, forgiving and vengeful, guide people and mislead them. It all depends on who you are and how you envision me. Good people see me as loving and evil people depict me as vengeful and angry. I am a mirror of who they are.” Ask a person to describe me and he will describe himself. If he says God is fearsome, fear him for he is wicked. If he says God is loving, he will love others. If he says God is reason, he will go after science and logic. I am the ultimate aspiration of what people are.
I had so many questions that after this conversation I saw no point to ask. I wanted to ask about the injustice in the world. Why God has destined some creatures to become food to others? This is something that has bothered me a lot since I was a child, but I let it go. God must have read my mind, yet He said nothing, perhaps because, He did not have a good answer for it. Who knows, maybe when He created the world he was young and inexperienced and did not know how to make it perfect.
I asked what you want me to convey to people. He said, “Everyone is endowed with the capacity to find their way. My message is everywhere. One does not have to follow someone else to find it. Think of the light of the Sun. It shines everywhere. You don’t have to go to the east or to the west, follow this way or that way to bask in its light. Likewise, truth is everywhere. My biggest message to you is you. Don’t follow every Tom, Dick and Harry that claims to be my prophet. Instead, look into your own soul and your own mind. I am in every human and in every living being. If you want to love me, love your fellow being and love the animals. I manifest myself in life. Respect life and do not destroy it. I manifest myself in intelligence, cherish it and do not waste it. If you want to see me, look in the microscope and in the telescope. I am the law of the universe. I am what make the world tick. I am the principle underlying the creation.”
When he finished this, he said you may leave now. I remembered he did not tell me how many times people have to pray to him each day. I recalled when Muhammad visited him he had to go back and forth several times and get counseled by Moses that he had to bargain with God to reduce the number of prayers and they finally settled to 5 times per day. I thought that even 5 times per day is too much. Times have changed and people need to work in a faster pace. Wasting time in prayers is contributing to lack of productivity, which translates into poverty. But before I opened my mouth God said, "Nothing!". ..."Excuse me?" I asked. He said "Nothing! No prayers are needed. It is enough for people to wage no wars and be kind towards one another. That is all I ask them. There is no need for them to worship me if that is causing so much hate amongst them. The object of worshipping me is to unite people not to divide them. But now they use my name to hate one another. Tell them I don’t need their faith. Find ways to bring peace on Earth."
I bowed and left the room filled with wisdom and love. I delighted in the fact that my God was a good god. And felt sorry for those whose god is fearsome, angry and punishes them in hellfire for eternity. I came to understand why Muhammad is in hell and why I will never be sent there.
I went downstairs and met Gabriel who was waiting for me. “Are you ready to go home? He asked. “Yes I am Sir. Are we going back with Morghollah?” I asked. “There is no need for her,” he told me. You are endowed with a brain, with which you can fantasize and you can think rationally. Both these faculties are yours to use. Be wise and know when to use one and when to use the other. There is a time and place for both. Don’t fantasize when you have to be rational and don’t be too bothered with details when it is time to dream and fantasize. The essence of wisdom is to know the difference between reality and fantasy. Many people place their faiths on their fantasies and others who have forgotten how to dream. Know the difference between reality and fantasy and use both to your advantage. Have high hopes and an imaginative mind, but walk on solid ground and reason in everything you do. Religion must be based on logic, not faith or fantasy. It must be rational, not emotional.” He told me. “But is that possible”, I asked. “Doesn’t faith mean reliance of something that is not proven?” “That is not where faith is to be placed,” he responded. “You must have faith in yourself and in your unlimited potentials. In other things you must doubt. Alas too often, people doubt where they have faith and have faith in what they have to doubt. Now that you had your fantasy, it is time to think rationally and you’ll be home at once.” And it was so.
Prophet Ali Sina
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