How I came to be, How you came to be, How we came to be...

A long, long time ago,
And a long, long time in the future
Before earthly time was created,
I was playing in heaven
When the Prophet
Suddenly took me aside and
Away from my playmates.

The Prophet told me with
His willow gentle voice,
“O’ Taufiq, today you will
Choose your parents.
These are the souls that
You may choose amongst.
Remember! Just one man
And one woman.”

I looked where the
Prophet was gesturing,
And saw a multitude of souls,
All beautiful and illuminated
With Divine Light such as
I have never imagined.

My eyes wandered over their
Stunning countenance,
Full of expectations,
My gaze drifted until I am
Fixed upon two souls in particular.
` I looked at them,
And they smiled back at me,
With a love whose yearning for me
Broke my heart, although
We were in heaven and
I was with the Prophet.

Such was their love.

“Him and her”.
I said to the Prophet,
Pointing to them.

The Prophet looked and smiled,
“Ah, Abdul Khalid
And Arbayah!
An excellent choice, o’ Taufiq.
I think you were meant to be
Born from their honourable wedlock.
I can think of no better choice, really.”

My father and mother nodded at me,
And tears burnt my cheeks.

“You will take good care of them
Won’t you, Taufiq?”, Said the Prophet.
They will look after you
When you are a youngling,
But that will last only but a short while.”

Then the Prophet pondered upon me
And placed his hands
Upon my small shoulders,
“You chose them, you see.
So they will be your responsibility.”

My heart was filled with the apprehension
That I shall never live up
To my Prophet’s expectations.
I said nothing, but the Prophet knew
And assured me, “Do not worry, o’ Taufiq.
I will always be near.”

So that is how I am here today.
Taufiq, the youngest son of
My father and mother.

.

I wrote this and gave it to Heche when she was called to the Malaysian Bar in early 2009. I simply changed my name with hers, and my parents' names with her father and mother's. I had doubts to do so because what is written is intimately personal and real to me. Her response washed away all my doubts in a river of tears. Perhaps it will wash away all your doubts too.

This coming Monday is Mikhail's 7th birthday, and I thought it would be so sweetot to share this poem with you, who must be the son or daughter of a father and mother.

If you are to ask me now, or if I was to live one thousand years, whether I have been any good at caring for my parents, my answer shall be no for now, and no after a thousand years. This is a love deficit that can never be settled, never be recompensed. Knowing how I feel now to be a father, I know this to be a high truth.

Friends, if you feel the same way about your parents, how can we not be brothers and sisters? We are, you know. We just happen to have different mums and dads.

Have a happy day, sunshine. Call your mum / dad today and tell them how much you love them.

Pax Taufiqa.