At The Nib of My Pen - Muhammad and Mikhail

How I write About Mikhail

When I wrote your poem,

I had the Prophet Muhammad in my mind,

In my hand, and at the end of the nib of my pen...

I picked up Mikhail from school during lunch. He was surprised. "Aren't you working today, Papa?"

"Yes, but I am not so busy. After all, it's your birthday!" I replied.

We dropped by Nandos in Bangsar for some chicken. Is it me, or are those damn roasted poultry overpriced? While waiting for our food, I took some pictures of my son. "Oh, Mika. You are SO not photogenic. Come on... smile properly..." He explained why he cannot smile very well for the camera, "But I am not so happy."

"Why aren't you happier?"

"It's not as if Aqheel is here with us. If he was here, I would REALLY be smiling." (Brief note: Aqheel is his 11 year old cousin, and my brother's youngest son).

"Oh, I am so SORRY." I answered hotly. "If that is the case I will just take pictures of you minus your alleged smiles!"

Honestly.

Later we wandered into Toys 'r' Us, where amazingly my son was not interested in buying anything. "I don't want anything, Papa. I am waiting for Mummy to give me my money." Then he mused, "I wonder if she has gotten paid already. Hmm..." (Brief note: His earnest mother promised to reward Mika with cash on his birthday for totally dropping instant noodles from his diet... Yes, guilty as charged. We bribe our children.)

Then we wandered into a bookshop, where I bought him a TinTin adventure comic book, entitled "The Blue Lotus. "I chose it because it has a dragon, Papa." He explained.

While paying, I received a call from my brother inquiring about Mika because he wanted to drop off Aqheel at the house. I told the birthday boy the good news and without much ado, we paid quickly and hurried home. As I drove, I notice my son sitting quietly in the passenger seat. True enough, he is really smiling now.

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

I am not terribly worried about my son. I believe that wherever he may go in future, it will always be a good place. Perhaps it is the innate belief (or hope?) of a parent. Perhaps it is a father in denial of the murkiness and hazards of our times. I recorded the prose below because there was a time when Mika might have actually migrated overseas, to live in a foreign land, thousands of miles away from me. When I wrote the poem, I had the prophet Muhammad in my mind, in my hand, and at the end of the nib of my pen...

A good land

Wherever you may go, Mikhail

However far you may journey,

Because you bring me with you,

The land to which your feet takes you,

Will, with my blessing,

Always be a good land.

Have a beautiful day, sunshine. God bless all our children. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way