Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Egypt, The Beautiful Prophetic River and the Vile Stream of Hate

SICK SICK SICK. I have been unwell, my friends. I tried to get through yesterday, but around noon I crashed and refused to return to the office. Maybe it’s the change in temperature - After 5 days' delay, the traditionally warm weather which would normally announce the Chinese New Year has belatedly arrived in Malaysia. Or maybe it’s simply because of the news on tv. While watching the early morning news on Al Jazeera, I saw the appalling news footages of the riot in Cairo (the one where the van / car / pick-up truck were trying to run down protestors on the streets, followed by the drivers / passengers being pulled out and assaulted, they are probably dead by now) and followed by a video of an attack by Messrs Crazy & Deranged against the Ahmadiyah Muslim sect in Indonesia, where 3 died. It doesn't matter to me which side is right or wrong. Both videos made me sick.

HATE. It is a difficult thing to control, Hate. And it is even more dangerous when you believe that your anger / hate is justified. And worse still when you marry Hate with your personal convictions, regardless whether you are a Jew, Christian, Muslim or Hindu. In such circumstances, almost any action is justifiable. Because, to be honest, you have become that which you hate. There is no justice anymore, not when the mob is screaming for blood - Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Well, fuck that, I say. My firm view is that vigilante justice has no place in Islam. Simply because vigilante justice is so manifestly corruptible, and it is all too often motivated by anger. So it doesn’t matter whether your anger was justified to begin with. Anger / Hate spoils everything. Even 'justice'.

PROPHETIC RIVER. Our mouth is a constant source of hate. We try to curtail it, we try to think beautiful thoughts, but we often fail and suddenly, hateful and spiteful words come spewing out of us… a vile stream of hatred and resentment. The Prophet is absolutely different and utterly unique. From his lips issues forth a river of beauty, love, mercy, kindness and tolerance. And if you find one iota, one drop of hate in such a prophetic river… then I am sorry. I cannot agree that such a thing can come from the Prophet.

CANCER. Hate is like cancer of the soul. Millions of scientists are out there now, looking for a cure for Cancer. If such a cure is ever found, it is too late for my mum, for she died 9 years ago due to Cancer. I am consoled by my belief that even so, she did not suffer from Hate. She loved and was beloved by many. She was the springtime of my life and in the gentle falling leaves of autumn, I see her still, smiling at me. My mother was a herald of love, if ever there was one. Honest, patient and gentle with an earthy sense of humour which always made people laugh. And she never talks bad behind your back. Oh no. No Hate in her. Perhaps a little sadness, but that is normal alas. Alhamdulillah.

LIFE. In any event, what is your life worth even if you could live for a thousand years, if you live your life hatefully? And what if you live your life for just for one hour, yet you were able to inspire love in the eyes of your father and mother?


We will eventually return to Him, sunshine. And He shan’t ask us how many years we have lived. He shall only ask this – how did you live your life and whom did you love? God save us if the reply to the last question is ‘I loved only myself’.

Pax Taufiqa.

Footnote: Cemetary picture is courtesy of Balqies Arafia Zaid’s Photoblog.

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