To paraphrase Rumi - She ain't your shortie, she is a Divine Tajalli... so RESPECT!

Women and  the Divine Tajalli

Women are a wonder to behold,

They are like God, possessors

Of the divine tajalli.

Just when you have wrapped your head

Around her, she changes, or perhaps

More accurately, she reveals

More of herself. Just like God.

You try to make the dish right,

But no, you cannot. You burn the meatloaf,

You added to much sugar in the cupcake.

You will never cook it like her, you oaf!

You try to please her, and say comforting words,

But no, she just wants you for listening.

Even worse, you actually try advising,

Which will of course end up in you apologizing,

For thinking she needs your interfering.

But if you are silent,

She will then ask, “Have you not been listening?”

“But I thought you only wanted me to listen?” you protest,

And she will rebuke you for not understanding her at all,

Sorry, friend, you have failed the test.

Then of course, the greatest mistake in your life

Is that you dared to exist before she

Came swanning into your life.

Oh, men, you ungrateful misguided souls…

All your past sadness, and especially your past happiness

That amounts to nothing in her eyes,

Because, just like God,

How could you have mattered?

How could you have even existed

Before she came into your life

And by her presence alone

you are truly created?

Glossary - To quote Fethullah Gulen, that canny human being - "Tajalli has several meanings such as being uncovered, coming forth, appearance and development within a certain framework and, to a certain extent, Divine Attributes and Names revealing themselves through their works individually or collectively, Divine mysteries and lights making themselves felt in hearts with certain signs, numerous unknown states and particularities that pertain to the Unseen coming to be known through the conscience and seen with the eye of the heart, and spiritual enlightenment through a continuous, sound relationship of servanthood with God Almighty."

He is paraphrasing Rumi now. Does his disrespect have no limit?

So, sunshine... to paraphrase that old persian divine rapper, Jelaludin 'love cents' Rumi - "Yo Hommie, she ain't your shortie, she ain't your woman, she ain't your hottie. She is a Divine Tajalli... So RESPECT!"

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

A Merdeka Poem - Malaysia's 54th Independence Day. Happy Birthday, Baby.

Happy Birthday, Baby.

hey, baby... happy 54th birthday. there is a bit of laughlines on your face and sometimes your eyes betray a sadness. but honestly, i cannot live without you... your moods and your many endearing manner still captivates my heart. There were some who said we won't be together for long, and how happy i am that we proved them wrong. i only hope that i will be given more time to get to know you better, and to be better for you, Malaysia.

To all Malaysians, Selamat Hari Merdeka! To everyone else, come and visit us!

Footnote II: Merdeka Poem 2012, 55th Hari Merdeka Click Here

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Footnote I - Hari Malaysia 16/08/2011 Poem Here

Adams, in the Valley of the Peerless Eves

Adams prance about just for Eves

Adams, in the Valley of the Peerless Eves
I am disguised
In my disgust
At myself.
Again and again,
I fall, again and again
I promised myself I shan’t.

I am kept waiting,
I am kept punished,
My emotion is peddled
Most cheaply by you,
Oh, Eve, why do I continue
To be besotted by
One so pretty
Yet so cruel?

How did God make you, Eve?
What concoction of heavenly light
And forbidden delight did He mix in you?

You cannot tell me, can you?

Adams climb balconies just for Eves.

Forget the nuances of poets
And their helpless poetry.
For before the maddening,
The utterly beguiling Eve
We fall. Again and Again.
It FEELs like pain,
But by God,
We do not even feel worthy
To walk with you
On this lonely country lane.

I know your cottage is just around
The corner of the heath -
Of the most flaming light,
Of the most precious paper
Scorched by the governing fire,
It is your kind, to us Adams
That we are both punished and bequeathed
The garden of heavenly ease,
In the valley of you peerless Eves.

This strange little prose about man and woman was written while contemplating a woman and  listening to this song 'King of Anything' by Sara Bareilles. In this quaint and well written song, the talented Ms. Bareilles is scolding her soon-to-be ex. But to a man, it is such a beautiful way of scolding that I fear any Adam won't mind at all being scolded by her. 

So, please. If you want to scold me, Eve. Write a song. And a good one. Pity us because Ms. Bareilles is absolutely correct about us men - we are nothing, no king of anything at all... 

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

A Sinner's Log for Eidul Fitri, Day 1.

Sinner's Log for Eidul Fitri, 30th August 2011.

1. Woke up at 2.30am. Couldn't fall back to sleep so wrote a posting. Then laid in bed and contemplated the ceiling fan, "That ceiling fan sounds ominously creaky. What if it suddenly drops?"
2. At 7am finally dragged myself half-asleep out of bed. Woke Mika up and said that he should follow me to the Mosque to pay the religious tithe (must be done before the Eidul Fitri supererogatory prayers which normally starts about 8am). Mika whines. I said why should I take him to the shopping mall if he doesn't want to follow me to the mosque? He leapt of the bed and quickly showered. Good.
3. Successfully paid the tithe at one of the four tables laid out at the mosque entrance. Took pictures of Mika at the mosque - "That way, Mika, if anyone asks, you can say that Papa brought you to the mosque on Eidul Fitri morning." Didn't plan to pray actually, and we were driving home when suddenly...
4. 7.30am - Mika asks whether we are going to the shopping mall now. I said, "Mika, I didn't say we were going to the shopping mall right after the mosque. Anyway, what shopping mall is open at 7.30am??" Mika complained, "Papa, you tricked me. This is unfair!" I shared with my son my views on fatherhood - "Mika, the father-son relationship is not based on fairness and democracy. It is feudal and autocratic. Live with it." That quietened him down. Hehehe.
5. 8am - Had breakfast with my dad and Mika. Dad didn't even try the spaghetti which I made last night. Disappointed.
6. 9am - My friend Longhair arrived from the mosque, resplendent in his flowing white robe and wizard's hat. He didn't even look at my spaghetti and had the nasi lemak dish instead (rice cooked in coconut milk, served with fried peanuts, anchovies, cucumber, boiled egg and a spicy red sauce). Double disappointed. 
7. 9.30am - When my late mother was alive, the neighbourhood garbage men would all come to our house in the early morning of Eidul Fitri, and they did not disappoint us. Today, 8 of them arrived and they received their 'ang pows' (packets of money). 
8. 10pm - My relatives started to appear, mostly my cousins and their children. Finally some of them took notice of the spaghetti and had some. One even packed my celebrated spaghetti to have more later at home. Very happy now.
9. 10.45am -  My eldest bro arrived and Mika is happy because his closest cousin, Aqheel has come. They spent most of the morning in front of the laptop, fighting Greek and Norse gods and demigods. 
10. 11pm - My friend King finally arrived with his family. My dad and his dad, Raja Zainal Abidin traded old stories about their days as students in University Malaya, Singapore. My dad (who was a medical student) said that his room was the best, because it overlooked the nursing college hostel. Hmm. He never told me that before. Later my other brother Saiful came back with Adam and Imran, my two other nephews.
11. 11pm-2pm - I was mildly but continuously interrogated about my marriage plans - or in the view of my elderly cousins, my lack of marriage plans. Some queries came by way of proxy from my aunties who were not able to visit my house today. "You promised us you will get married this year!" one particularly aggressive cousin accused me. I didn't, I remember simply telling them last year , "Maybe next year." The idea of a marriage plan beyond one year is incomprehensible to them. So I just told them what they wanted to hear. Hehehe. 
12. 2pm - Mika wants to follow his cousin, Aqheel and my brother's family to visit more houses. My brother asked if it is okay. I said "Please, be my guest!" My brother just laughed, so I warned him, "I am not kidding, Abang Ein (that is what I call my eldest brother, Zahurein), Mikhail doesn't ever stop talking!" Again, he just laughed at my warning. Oh well. C'est la vie.
13. 2.30pm - 4pm - My father's friend Lily, visited us with her family, which breathtakingly consists of 7 sisters, although only 4 managed to be here this year. 
14. 4.30pm - No one around but us mice. I saw my dad take a plate of my spaghetti and I went to sit next to him. He said, "Nice.. nice". I thought he may be just trying to spare my feelings, but as I was going to my room, I saw him visit the buffet table for another helping. Not disappointed anymore. Alhamdulillah!

 I hope you enjoyed my brief summary of the day, sunshine. I am about to fall asleep very, very soon. While I am unconscious and my soul takes leave of my body, I pray that wherever you are, and whatever you may be doing, may your Family, Love, Faith, Friends and Rock & Roll be your constant abiding company this Eidul Fitri.Oh no, wait, stop the press! Longhair just facebook-ed me. He is coming over again to try some of my spaghetti. Hehehe. My cup of joy runneth over...

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Love is Stirring my Cup of Storm, Pouring Tea of Make Believe

Love is pouring tea of make believe

Love is stirring my cup of storm,

Pouring tea of make believe -

That love can change my everything,

That love will lure you back to me.

Love is stirring my cup of storm,

Serving tea of make believe -

That right and good shall always prevail,

Through tempest snow, through rain and hail.

Love is stirring my cup of storm,

Making tea of make believe -

That Love is watching over us

Since the day we breathe our first.

Love is stirring my cup of storm,

Pouring tea of make believe -

That Love made reign His kingdom be

If only mankind would still believe.

Another night that I am unable to sleep, sunshine. And this time, I am unable to even blame my friend Longhair. This time, Love is stirring my cup of storm, and perhaps by recording this little prose, Love shall calm the waters of my soul, and gently rest my soul to sleep. How can I say this, without appearing impolite or ungrateful - Please, Love.... I need my sleep!

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Eidul Fitri Celebrations and my Spaghetti Bolognese

At 7pm, I began prepping the ingredients for the spaghetti bolognese
which is a traditional Malay dish for tomorrow's Eidul Fitri celebrations.
Just kidding. Wanted to be a bit different this year. I did not imagine
that I would actually end up using all that fresh tomatoes, tomato ketchup, tomato paste
and tomato puree. As it turned out, I did. Used about a kilo of minced meat.

I love my garlic and onion. I used two and a half whole cloves
of garlic. I suspect one of my relatives is a 'daywalker' vampire.
I hope to be proven wrong tomorrow.

Heche is my food taster, and she dropped by to test the spaghetti.
She said it was lovely and wondered if I actually had
Italian blood in my family. Okay, I made that last bit up.
Anyways, I am a firm believer in letting a sauce sit overnight.
So I am expecting the sauce to be even better tomorrow morning.
Keeping my fingers crossed!

While prepping the onions, garlic and capsicum, my brother and his family dropped by for some fireworks fun. Even my father came out bringing a packet of candles (which turned out to be aromatic candles!) and asked my brother to decorate our short driveway and gate with them. So right now, if you were to come by my house, it looks like a Hindu family's house celebrating Deepavali (The Festival of Light), which by the way, is also a national holiday here in Malaysia. And when you actually get out of your car, you can smell the strawberry infused candles, perfuming our small garden. I think it is hilarious. I am glad my dad is getting into the mood at his age of 77 years.

As I sent Heche back late tonight, I heard the takbir (The glorification and praise of God) in the night air, which is not familiar to me around midnight. I followed the takbir and it led me to a small mosque in the small suburbs of Sungei Penchala. I parked my car outside and listen. I was tired (and hungry), but contented. Soon after midnight, the congregation ended their takbir and I picked myself up from the pavement and drove home. This is how the takbir sounds like here in my hometown...

So here I am, sunshine. About to go to sleep on the 1st day of Syawal. I am hopeful tomorrow morning shall find you in good health and spirit. Wherever you are, however you are dressed, whatever holy books that you recite, I bid you, on behalf of God, the Prophet, His Companions, the Saints and all the Angels,  Eid Mubarak. And if you are anywhere near my house, drop in. The spaghetti will be awesome, I kid you not.

Pax Taufiqa.

A Moonlight Illuminating Syawal

159. A Moonlight Illuminating
Am I Majnun,
The yearning,
The lover?

Or am I Layla,
The night,
The sought?

Or am I,
In truth,
Neither?

Like a moonlight
Illuminating and
Caressing the skin
Of two lovers entwined?

Anonymous save as
A silent witness in
The brief moments
That Layla and
Majnun appears
In my moonlight,

Lovers reunited
And reconciled,
Appearing like stars
Upon the Balcony of Union,
Set in the Tower of Meanings,
Which is surrounded
By the Seas of Creation,
And bathed by
A glorious moonlight
Made glorious
By the sighs of Layla
And the gaze of Majnun,

A light given meaning,
When once there was
No meaning, where once
There was no one
To bear witness and
None to understand.

Only an hour or so is left of Ramadhan, sunshine. Soon the Moon of Syawal shall be upon us. This is a prose recorded in the month of Syawal, some 3 years ago. We are all perhaps like Majnun, a dervish of love, drifting in the wilderness of our 'right' and 'wrong' conclusions. And after a long doom, we find Love beneath the tree of compassion, and we ask Love, "Lord, we are thirsty. Tired of our own reckoning... please give unto us Your mercy..."

Upon this late hour, the sinner wishes all his brethren, all the Eves and Adams, all his brothers and sisters in the unity of worship of the One God, Eid Mubarak!

Pax Taufiqa

I am Ramadhan, a Favoured Moon of God -Prose of Ramadhan Part 79

I am Ramadhan, a Favoured Moon of God

(Ramadhan Verses 43)

I love you,

But I must let you go.

You must leave me,

Though you shall

Find none better.

Everything and everyone

That you shall meet

Shall be a parable,

An analogy,

A memory

Of me.

I love you,

But I must let you go.

I love you in ways

You can never know.

And if you despair

Of your yearning

For me.

Do not worry,

For I love you still.

Everything and everyone

Can come to confound

Your memory of me.

And you shall come

To doubt what I

Say is true.

But you only need

To look inside,

And you shall

Find me in

You.

I am Ramadhan,

A Favoured Moon of God.

And like the Lord,

I too have a

Home in

You.

I am letting you go now,

And in a few short hours

You shall be with

My sister Moon

Of Syawal.

But in truth, I am always

With you.

For whatever the season,

God made me

Just for you,

And you were made

To fill my days and nights

With beautiful piety,

And the remembrance

Of the Truth.

We are both like mirrors, you and I.

And what beauty you see in me

I see it in you too.

This, I do believe is my last posting and prose of Ramadhan 2011. Upon a mild provocation by my friend, Longhair, the verses was recorded in the early morning of the last day of Ramadhan. For today shall end with the eve of Syawal and the beginning of the Eid celebrations. But it shall be a joyous occasion marked with a little sadness, for my friend, Ramadhan Kareem is leaving me. And though I am grateful to receive her sister moon, I cannot forget Ramadhan and her tender kindness.

God bless life, God bless love, God bless the runes that He has left in the setting of the sun, and the rising of a new moon, and how in each understanding, is a path to His Knowledge and All-Encompassing Love and Compassion. For all creatures.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

The Ego, the Riddle and Humanity - Prose of Ramadhan Part 78

The Riddle of Me (Ramadhan Verses 78)

I was whole,

A complete ego

Unto myself.

Then love came

And ravished my mind -

Love drew open each veil,

Unlocking each door,

Turning each page,

And freeing my soul

From its cage.

I was whole,

But I was wholly unhappy.
When love came

Love gave me light,

Love gave me hope,

Love gave everything to me.

Solving each riddle

Of this world,

The greatest of all

Being the Riddle of Me.

It is the nature of the ego to say that we, each Adam and Eve on earth is complete unto ourselves. But we never are. We need people and interaction. We need smiles and laughter, and family dinners. We need to taste sweet victory and bitter defeat at the bowling alley. We need to share our worries and disappointments, as we prop each other up as a friend or family.

It is the nature of what I do that I spend many hours in solitude. But what I write comes from people I meet and talk to. And I am not particularly sociable. If there is goodness at all that you find in this almanac, it is solely because of my friends and family, and the examples of many people out there, past and present, whose struggle and courage showed me how to live a life as a good person. And behind the curtain of humanity, I sense the thread that connects us all to the Loving God, the One and Only God, He who is worshipped by everyone, whatever religion that they worship in.

Alone, our ego will convince us of our independence. That we need no one and nothing. That in the pursuit of our self-interest is the source of all happiness. But together, you and I, and the cat named Moses, we are greater than the sum of our parts. My happiness is being in your company. So thank you, sunshine, for dropping by today. And believe me, I need you.

God bless you, pet.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

A Sinners' Guide to Ballroom Dancing - Prose of Ramadhan Part 77

A Western Ball

The Sufi’s Dance with the World (Ramadhan Verses 41)

May I have this dance, milady?

So beautiful are you in

All your mortal finery,

Not a hair out of place

Crowned upon a beautiful face,

How wonderous are you

In your mortal embroideries.

May I have this dance, milady?

You who dance with such grace,

Whirling like a dervish,

Captivating men

With a smile and

A wink of your eye.

How wonderous are you

In your beguiling finery.

May I have this dance, milady?

But lead me not

Away from God,

For He that created you

Also created me -

Let me lead you,

Through the waltz of souls

And heavenly music,

My firm hand upon your waist,

My gaze upon your pretty face.

May I have this dance, milady

And though other men may

Fall for your beauty,

It is you who must

Fall for me.

Submit to my will

Submit to my lead

Wherever this dance

May lead me.

You are surprise, milady?

Do you not know who I am?

A Sufi Ball - Oh no... do not be deceived.
They too dance with a partner. Hehehe.

How beautiful God created the world. Beauty in its symmetry, beauty in its movements, beauty in its breadth and expanse, beauty in it's smallest thing. Even a little itsy bitsy ant.

Right from birth, we have to dance with the world. Our very own bodies demand that we continue the waltz and the whirl, and only when we allow our ego and nafs (lower desires) to overcome us, do we stumble and collapse. It is not the world's fault, for God made her perfect. It is us. We lose our step, we lose count and trip on the world's flowing ballroom gown.

But if we desire to led the world in the dance, by God, we must master ourselves first. There is no other way, my friend. This is the most difficult path, but we are here already in the Divine Grand Ball of all creation. Ah, do not worry if you stumble a little. We all stumble. We just need to pick our injured pride off the dance floor and follow the master choreographer that God has appointed to train you - He is known by many names, some call him Faith, others call him the Heart, while another may say he is the Conscience. Ready? Hehehe. It doesn't matter really, because God is saying -

Maestro, my servants are ready. let the music begin...

Don't be a wallflower. Let's dance.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

The Most Exalted of Muse is at the Camel Saloon - Prose of Ramadhan Part 76

What lies around the corner? Who cares when you are
following the Most Exalted of Muse?

Russell, that amiable homeboy of the Camel Saloon has allowed the sinner to once again prop his heaving stout (read fat) body against the bar, perched on a rickety stool of truth to drink wine stolen from the cellars of the wise. For that I bartered with him an old prose recorded sometime back -

Click here to read Most Exalted of Muse.

I would normally have posted up this link sooner, but alas, with the long awaited break for the Eid celebrations, boy... did we have to work for our holidays! But now it is here already, and my office shall be closed for one week. God bless God for giving us an excuse!

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Crazy and Undone in Ramadhan. Hey, it rhymes! - Prose of Ramadhan Part 75

This month, this Ramadhan (Ramadhan Verses 40)

I woke this morning,

And untied the apron strings

Of uncertainty.

I write what I write

But it is good for me to read

What others tell me.

This month, I chose solitude

But the month chose friends

For me.

This month, I chose disobedience

But the month chose penance

For me.

This month, I chose error

But the month won’t let me be,

And stoked a white fire-

Bright, luminous and steady.

The Moon that was out at night,

She saw the flame and said,

“What a beautiful light!”

I chose crazy, I chose to be undone,

And that was exactly what Ramadhan

Had done to me.

You might not believe it, sunshine, but it is the second last day of Ramadhan, and I grieve to see her go. Already in my Facebook, some of my mad friends are already writing their goodbye-see you next year-God Willing note to Ramadhan. They are the sincere and good ones, and I am ever honoured that they tolerate the company of a sinner. 

When I picked up the pen about 20 minutes ago, I did not know what would happen. I was not sure what the pen would trace and how the ink would pour from its nib. But now that it is done, I am pleased. This month of Ramadhan is special that way. Even for sinners!

Ramadhan was my shepherd...

'Tis Sunday, sunshine. Have a good one!

Pax Taufiqa.

A Cup of Heresy from a Cellar of Wine - Prose of Ramadhan Part 74

The Cup of Heresy (Ramadhan Verses #39)

We sip heavy from the cup of heresy

That men call theology.

We pray on a premise of faith,

And men think high of the words

Which we recite like holy spells -

When they desire candy,

We give them candy.

When they desire wizardry,

We give them wizardry.

And when they desire an idea of the divine,

Verily, we give them our cellar of wine.

Lo, if only they had asked for servanthood!

Lo, if only they had sought patience,

We would not offer them such meager rations.

I SET MY RELIGION FREE - Prose of Ramadhan Part 73

16. Think. Experience. Know. Feel. See.

My watch doesn’t tell me the time,

It is I who tell my watch the time.

The rose gives me no perfume,

It is I who give the rose its perfume.

The ocean surrenders to me none of its riches,

It is I who fill the ocean with its riches.

Water doesn’t sate my thirst.

It is I who sate the water’s thirst.

The Fire doesn’t burn me,

It is I who burn the fire.

Beauty doesn’t attract me,

It is I who attract beauty.

Ugliness doesn’t repel me,

It is I who repel ugliness.

No religion can cage me,

It is I who set free my religion,

From the society

Of a dumb piety,

From the confines

Of a puny mind.

In February 2008, this spell was recorded by your sinner. I cannot recall what made me write it but this is one of those 'technical' verses. To properly elaborate on this poem would require a lot of writing, and I am too hungry to do so. And I bet you are tired of loooong postings.

So I leave you for now to contemplate and consider the words. And come to your own conclusions. God bless you, and may God open the essence to your heart, that your form may come to be of the shape and hue of True Love, Truth and Mercy.

Have a perfectly wonderful Sabbath, sunshine. I will be back soon!

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

I am Alchemy, I turn base events into gold. - Prose of Ramadhan Part 72

I met a Truth. She was called Alchemy. (Ramadhan Verses 38)

I was walking in the Quadrangle of Souls, when I met a truth. She said that her name was Alchemy. I asked her, "Wow! If I get to know you, will I be able to turn base metal into gold?"

"Oh, I am not THAT alchemy. I am another. Are you interested in her?" She replied.

"Well, I think that is what most people are interested in. But I am curious to know you. Your truth."

She smiled saying, "My truth is simply a story. Sit down." So we sat on a stone bench, beside which was a fish pond.

"Are you aware of the Day of Promises?" She asked me, and I nodded.

And this is how she continued her story. "So on that day all souls were gathered in the Divine Presence and asked this question - Are you willing to accept the trust (and challenges) that no other being in creation, not the suns, not the moons, not the planets not the Angels themselves are willing to carry? To which all souls answered yes. So you know the story that far, yes?

But now let me ask you this, mortal - Were the souls, indeed, were you yourself aware of the trust and tests that will come your way by taking this solemn oath before God? Did God actually show you the events and some pretty dire challenges that will face you in your life?

I pondered for a while, thinking about my own life and some of the sorrowful events that I had to muddle through... my mother's illness and death, my divorce, my own illness, and so I said "No. I reckon that God will not show us everything that would befall us. For He knows us and He will know that we are essentially weak creatures and would refuse the trust had we actually known what we are getting ourselves into."

The truth glittered with light and surprise, she was not angry but she was not entirely happy with my reply. "Oh mortal, how can you accuse God of being unfair!? For that is what you are accusing him of!" Then her light dimmed and she continued. "God showed you all, mortal. From the moment you were born, right to your own death."

"But surely I would not have accepted the trust if I had known I would face some pretty appalling events in my life, o' truth!" I argued.

She replied in the gentlest voice I have ever heard, and to this very moment I can recall her words, which made me shed tears. This was what truth answered. "Oh you did, mortal. For I was there, as I was there for each soul that has ever walked upon the soil of earth since the time of Adam. You said yes. They all said yes. None rejected the trust. And you must accept, mortal, that your own little life is blessed and little evil or pain of fate has befallen upon you. Some souls saw even worse calamities that would test their mortal existence and courage."

"So why did they... why did I accept the trust?"

The truth stood up, and she became taller than the highest heaven and her wings spread further than the furthest stars, she was aglow with the Light of Truth and I could hear music in her answer - "You were in love with the Lord, mortal! You and all your human brethren were so in love! God could have shown you hell itself, which by the way He did, and you still accepted the trust. Have you yourself not experienced in your own existence on earth, how you would say the most insane of things, promise the world and more, solely because of love?! How you would take the hand of your lover, promise her your undying and eternal faith and affection? How you say that you would face anything for her happiness? How you would swim an ocean of fire, climb the highest mountain in pursuit of her and for her sake alone? All this and more, you promised God. Don't you recall?

"I am sorry, I do not."

"Then remember now, since God has given you the happy chance of meeting me."

I looked up at truth, and she was smiling. She placed her hand upon my heart and her wings embraced me. I thought she looked utterly beautiful. "Oh, and by the way, mortal. You never asked me which Alchemy am I? Don't you want to know?"

I replied on behalf of myself and for those who may read this words. "Yes, of course. Who are you?"

She did not answer, for her lips did not move. But I heard her reply just the same, in a profoundly beautiful corner of my heart. She echoed like a timeless song, "I am Alchemy, and I turn base events of your life into gold."

....................

I hope you enjoyed the story, sunshine. May God give you the truth and wisdom to see how all that is fated for you, is all good.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Footnote: There are other postings on alchemy and the Day of Promises recorded in this almanac. You may click on the labels cloud which is located on the right panel of the blog. Salams!