The Life of an Orange - wonderful friends that blessed the journey...

The Orange

1. Orange and Life (or the Contratemps of a life with the Master)

I saw my Master eating oranges,

And the fruit appeared juicy and sweet

As it passed through his lips.

He passed me one,

But when I bit through the pulp

Oh, Lord, how sour was it!

I saw my Master live his life,

And his life appeared happy and sweet

With each passing moment.

God too gave me a life,

But when I lived my life,

Oh Lord, how sour was my portion!

Hehehe.

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

This prose is recorded from a tale recounted by a friend, a Sufi. Oh what a rascal he was when he was studying overseas. His idea of jihad (of course he was kidding, but I thought I better clear all doubt. After all, we don't know who may drop by in this almanac... Some may not be as cool as you, sunshine) was going out with a beautiful girl of Bani Israel, a rich London Jewess princess. Although not rich, he was a bon vivant, the life of any party, and he mixed with the super rich students who customed only the most expensive and exclusive nightclubs in the West End. That my friend could drink like a camel became useful as he and his clique partied into the early hours of the morning. To top of this degenerate (but undoubtedly very interesting!) life, is his talent as a ladies' man. Oh how they simpered and adored this scrawny little fella from Malaysia.

The Grandshaykh

This was of course many (many) decades ago. It was his fate that amongst his friends was a quiet unassuming son of a Sultan, studying law. One day, the prince fell under a spell of a Sufi Grandshaykh, and with great vigour and enthusiasm, dragged my friend into the tiny but growing circle of young Naqshbandis in the Malaysian diaspora in London, and later in Malaysia.

He has since passed away and so has the Prince. I miss our little chats. Because my friend was an excellent storyteller, and still I can recall how I chuckled and laughed at my friend's honest and often XXX rated tales from his disreputable past. In between these salacious but hilarious intermission, he would regularly throw nuggets of Sufi tales and experiences he had being in the close proximity of the Shaykhs and the Grandshaykhs. Always interesting, always entertaining and never dull. How wonderful was he... *sigh*

The Prince
al-fatiha

Sufis never preach to me. They only share, and always with a glint in their eye and a refreshing self-deprecation humour. No false humility here. They are simply lovely... How proud their Grandshaykh must be, and how lucky I am to know some of them. Even if only but a while.

May God bless them... and of course, may God bless you, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

I Will Be Anything For You - the universality of Muhammad's message and the course of true love

I will be anything for you

I will be a Persian orphan for you,

I will be an Indian merchant for you,

I will be a Victorian barrister for you,

I will be a Chilean miner for you,

I will be an American rapper for you,

I will be an African farmer for you,

I will be a German cellist for you,

I will be a Canadian lumberjack for you,

I will be an Ottoman soldier for you,

I will be a Japanese Samurai for you,

I will be a Brazilian dancer for you,

I will be an Irish Peer for you,

I will be a Welsh rugby player for you,

I will be a Chinese magistrate for you,

I will be a dervish beggar for you,

I will be an Eastern prince for you,

I will be a Swedish designer for you,

I will be a Scottish inventor for you,

However pleasing you want me to be,

From your most noble to the very dregs of your society,

I will be anything for you...

What will you be for me?

………………………..

Someone thoughtfully shared a BBC documentary with me entitled 'Great British Islam' covering three Victorian Muslims - Marmaduke Pickthall, Baron Headly (Irish Peer) and William Henry Quilliam (Liverpudian lawyer).

The first gentleman I am aware of, being in fact the first Muslim Englishman who translated the al-Quran into his native language (and indeed his version is the very first Quran I found in my home). His tale is covered in a small way earlier in a posting entitled Books connect us all - Lat, Marmaduke Pickthall and Yusuf Ali (Click Here to read).

Abdullah Quilliam and the mosque he built in Liverpool.

Baron Headley

But the other two Victorians were a complete mystery to me, so I found it a great joy to learn a bit about them from this thoughtful little documentary. As I watched it, I learned something - Sometimes what makes you special is the sincerity and earnestness that you exemplify by showing that really, when you cut through the veneer of class, nationality and creed, we are all just human beings driven with the very same ambitions, hopes, desires, fears and vulnerabilities. What is suppose to make Islam, and by default Muslims, special is their ability to blend and integrate into any nation and class. For people like Baron Headley and Quilliam did not try to propagate and defend Islam by demanding for special privileges and with fiery sermons from the pulpit. Instead through their meetings, gentile afternoon teas and publications, they spoke and wrote of poetry, literature, the aesthetics as well as science, business and industry - things which would appeal to the devout Christians of the Victorian era to help them see the Muslims in a different and better light.

For I think this is the universality of the Prophet's message (pbuh) which is often lost to our current generation. And I make this charge and challenge against the most 'fundamentalist' to the most 'liberal' amongst the Muslims - prove me wrong, please. 

Well, that was what I got from watching the video. It just struck a poignant chord in my heart, like how a true love story should. Why don't you watch it and decide for yourself? 

. Have a great Friday, sunshine. . wa min Allah at-taufiq .

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Merdeka Poem 2012 - An Olympian Independence

Believe it or not, Olympians live in this small kampung house surrounded
by acres and acres of paddy fields.

An Olympic Independence

For the farmers in the paddy fields

Toiling under the burning Sun,

You are the Olympians,

For the constables doing your duty

With no thoughts of bribery,

You are the Olympians,

For the mothers bringing up

Your children with no husbands,

You are the Olympians,

For the salaried men commuting

3 hours a day to feed your family,

You are the Olympians,

For the leaders trying to make a change

In a political party diseased with hubris.

You are the Olympians,

For the inspiring teachers

Working on a paltry salary,

You are the Olympians,

For the civil servants who burn

The midnight oil while others leave early,

You are the Olympians,

For those who stand for what is right

And honour the old ways and traditions,

You are the Olympians,

For those who fight each day to

Protect our sovereignty,

You are the Olympians,

For those, right or wrong, left or right,

Who says, “This country deserves better!”

You are the Olympians,

For the Sultans of Adab,

For the Masters of Servanthood,

You are the Olympians.

……………………….

The London 2012 Olympics is here, and I guess many Malaysians kept awake into the wee hours of the morning to watch the opening ceremony which only started at 3.30am our time. Heche was one and sms-ed me commenting that the Queen 'looked cute'. Right. 

For Malaysia, or at least West Malaysia (Sabah and Sarawak joined later), we too shall be celebrating something this month - our 55th Independence Day on the 31st August.

The newspaper and social medias are clogged up with the country's aspiration for gold medal(s) in the London Games. Well, all the of best luck to our athletes.

For me, I would like to congratulate the Malaysian Olympians who are in our midst already. The unsung and unheralded ordinary folks, who make life in Malaysia not only bearable but hopeful. I say this because if we were to believe everything we read in the media and social networks, whether pro-government or pro-opposition, things are, to put it bluntly, appalling. And with the muck-raking and dirty campaigns soon to come with the approaching General Election, Malaysians would be hard put to believe that we are actually 'okay'.

Of course, there is a lot to be done. And a lot to be improved. But don't worry too much. For I believe that you are not alone. As in all things, whether you are fighting to change or to preserve the same, it is Adab (good manners) that defines your agenda and who you truly are. And this is important whether we are independent or still a colony of the British Empire.

Thank you old chum. We will continue from here on. Now... where was I?
Oh yes... Merdeka! Merdeka! Merdeka!

Cheers, sunshine. Thank you for dropping in!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

At the Vocabulary Junction in the Forest of Our Wild Imagination

Forest river, near Janda Baik village, Pahang.

8. Ah, a Woman

Fragile and soft,

Yielding

But ever so

Commanding.

Heche's Abridged Complaint

I was sitting with Heche one day where she was complaining about not having enough self-confidence. I commiserated with her like any gentleman would, until her conversation winded down to "You know... I felt...umm. I felt like... umm...I was like errr..." I interrupted her vocabulary stalemate and commented tartly, "Yes, yes, I know. But do YOU know how lucky you are? If your mastery of the English language is better, can you imagine the sort of despairing prose you can be verbalizing right now? Don't you agree that sometimes it is GOOD not to be able to find the right words...?"

She threw a tissue box at me.

In the Forest of Our Wild Imagination

But really, when you think about it, isn't it good sometimes to be not so imaginative? I myself have a rather vivid imagination, and although I enjoy it, I will confide something with you here - My imagination has led me to some pretty dark places that I wish I have never ever known...

But I guess this is part of life - We don't always end up where we want to end up. And perhaps that is why our attachments to God and good conscience are like bread crumbs we leave behind. So even if we get lost in the Forest of our Wild Imagination, we can still find our way back out...

Alhamdulillah, I see the Sun again!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Iron Lady and the Water of our Soul - Movie Review, 8 out of 10

AN OSCAR! Well, kudos to Meryl Streep for her Oscar win recently. I viewed the Iron Lady over last weekend, and I think she nailed the portrayal of Margaret Thatcher spot on. I should know because over the past months I have been viewing hours upon hours of documentary about the First Woman Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. And I have read, and re-read John Campbell's biography of Maggie entitled Volume 1: The Grocer's Daughter and followed by Volume 2: The Iron Lady.

THE BEGINNING. Firstly, I think it is a pretty awesome movie, and it is hard to critic any part of Streep's performance as the dogged and determined Maggie. She was the first of the conservative brand of 'conviction politician', unafraid to face down the unions and topple any sacred cows inherited from the earlier brand of paternal conservatism. There was not much paternalism (or maternalism) coming with her victorious entry into No.10 Downing Street.

OVERVIEW. The movie covered all the major turning points in Maggie's political life. From her adoption as a candidate for Finchley as the pretty (but modest) uber frau. To her surprising victory over Edward Heath to take over leadership of the Tory party, and of course her General Election win to bring B&NE its first woman Prime Minister. The movie moved pretty fast to the Falklands War, the IRA bombing of the Brighton Hotel, the defeat of the striking coalminers, her external problems with Britain's European allies, the Poll Tax and finally, the successful conspiracy of 'the men in grey' to topple one of their strongest but most divisive Prime Minister in the Twentieth century.

Having watched numerous news items and documentary on British politics, and especially the Thatcher years, I find little to fault Streep's rendition of Margaret Thatcher. And if you think that Maggie was quite pretty, especially in her younger days, you are not wrong. 

Critique. I am not a fan of a lot of what Margaret Thatcher did. I certainly do not like her conversion to the Capitalism of Hayek and the Monetarism of Milton Friedman. I find both symbiotic ideologies repugnant and as a dogma they fail to address the humanist and social responsibility which binds us all together into a community. The assumptions about human nature made in these socio-economic theories are breathtakingly short-sighted. But then again, who am I to question her convictions? She did by her lights what she thought right for her country, fair enough.

I found the film's portrayal of her doddering old age, with the absence of her loyal husband, Denis, both sweet and touching. I like movies that show people to be human, vulnerable and weak. For no matter how much you may disagree with another person's views, we are still human beings in need of each other always. To feel, to empathize and to understand. I am giving this movie an 8 out of 10.

If you would like to know more about Thatcher's political history, you cannot do much better than watch these BBC documentaries; Portillo on Thatcher (Click Here) and Thatcher: The Downing Street Years (Click Here). They will flesh out some of the stories barely covered in the film due to time constraint.

But before I finally leave the Iron Lady with you, I would like to quote a line of Maggie's from the film, which I think would be an ornate gem in any Sufi tale. I will take this as a parting gift, a final caveat - be careful what we let into the well of our mind, less it spoil the waters of our soul...

Watch your thoughts, for they become words,

Watch your words, for they become actions,

Watch your actions, for they become habits,

Watch your habits, for they become your character,

And watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.

Have a thoughtful Sunday, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Intellectual Prison of Patriotism - Malaysia, English Language and the Last Refuge of the Linguist

ENGLISH OR BAHASA MELAYU? Malaysia is currently in the midst of a debate about education. The present government is abandoning the proposal to continue with the teaching of Science and Mathematics in government schools in the English language (PPSMI). The government has faced criticism in the implementation of the initiative because it was found that a substantial number of the maths and science teachers end up teaching in a mix of English and Bahasa Melayu (the national language of Malaysia) because of their lack of proficiency in English. This alone should not be the reason to drop PPSMI.

GOOD INTENTIONS? Malaysia has always suffered because of the good intentions of the government. In order to up the chances of the Malays passing in the secondary schools (among other reasons), the government dropped the English medium (When? Before my time, so it must have been in the 70s) of teaching in government schools. Thus, most of the current crop of teachers are all products of the present medium of teaching. As for yours truly, although I was educated in the system between 1977 to 1987, I was taught by teachers from the earlier generation, ergo my good luck.

DROPPING QUALITY? So we have many more Malays passing and scoring in secondary schools, and later in the local tertiary system. But sadly, their command of the English language is still weak and when faced with the reality of private sector work conditions, their poor English is a clear and apparent handicap. As someone who has interviewed many, many law graduates, the evidence is painfully clear. And this is strange because law is taught in the English medium in the local universities. So how did these kids manage to get through law school?

WHO CARES? WE DON'T. The government ministers are not too worried about all this because of course, many of their children go to private schools or have intensive English tuitions after school hours. In any event, because of their prosperity, their children are more likely to be exposed to the English language early and this continuous throughout their childhood. The politicians will not have to witness in silent agony as their children in college / university muddle through trying to make sense of the overwhelmingly English text and reference books. Why don't we enact a law that would prohibit politicians from sending their kids to private schools, locally or overseas? I am sure they WILL care then.

THE JAPANESE CAN DO IT! Opponents of the teaching of Maths and Science in English points out to countries like France, Germany and Japan, where they say that teaching in the national language did not hamper these countries' progress and development. This is an ingenious argument which fails to acknowledge certain historical facts about such countries -

• They are industrial countries with at least one whole century of industrial innovation and development. Malaysia was for most of the 20th century an agriculture based economy, and even then, the technical and commercial aspects were mostly in the English language.
• They have a very large and highly developed translation industry which produces text and reference books. I am not sure of the figure, but I can be you that Malaysia's translation industry is not as thriving as that in Indonesia.
• Their publishing industry is relatively independent of government control and censorship. Malaysia's publishing sector is controlled and manipulated through censorship and publishing laws, and this has a repressive effect on book and magazine projects.
• The reading culture of these countries are developed in their national language, with extensive publications of books, websites and periodicals covering all sorts of topics. Malay language reading habits encompass religious books and magazines, consumer and retail-centric periodicals and scandal magazines and websites.  

IT'S REALLY SO DIFFICULT! The Education Minister says that the Government will not implement the teaching of Science and Maths in English because it is too difficult and confusing. Isn't that what you are paid to resolve, you and the entire Ministry of Education? Sigh.

INTELLECTUAL PRISON. I am really saddened by the Malaysian Government decision. I love my country but this sort of patriotism is self-defeating. For to my mind, they are condemning another whole generation of the indigenous Malays to intellectual servitude. And intellectual servitude is just one small leap away from cultural, economic, religious and political servitude. The government (and the opposition, really) is happy with this because this means that the Malays shall not be reading the English websites, blogs and magazines, which by their nature tend to be much more open, diverse and progressive. A fitting prison for a whole race of people, to the gratification of politicians and religious preachers who do not desire to be challenged.

Well, damn it. Let's challenge them. Pay and educate the teachers better, increase the budget for education, and for goodness sake, if we need to spend to bridge the English Divide in Malaysia, spend the money. Because if we don't, Malaysia's slide in education will continue, and when educational standards decline, everything declines. 

Pax Taufiqa.

PS: Sorry, this is not my normal writing, but I feel very strongly about this. Back to the normal Sinners' Almanac programming in the next posting.