If there ever were anything like a pagan Muslim, that might have been a fair description of me and my faith. Rooted in belief, my Islam is an eccentric and many would argue, an unorthodox practice. It matters little. Faith is a matter more personal than sex or the affair you are currently having with the book you’re reading.

Most pagan practices around the world have some version of a March-time festival to mark the Spring Equinox. Before the Georgian calendar came along and pretty much made common sense obsolete, people followed lunar calendars which, we all know, are far more precise and brings us closer to the very essence of our human selves – nature, the earth, the moon and its tides, the birth of spring and the close of winter.

For me, the only festival I have ever felt an affinity to is Nowrooz (now= new; rooz=day). Or…