A Cherubim and the Guardian Angels - a pictorial history of angels part 2

What are YOU looking at?

The Little Cherubim
I caught a cherubim taking aim
With her little bow and arrow!

I caught a cherubim
But it was a she not a him!

How can this be?
How can this be?
I wondered,

Until one grey-beard came and put
My angelic knowledge to shame…

That angels are simply neither
A mister or a dame.
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I like Angels. Whether they come to us in the form of man or in the glittering beads and vapour of water flying down a majestic waterfall. Here are some of my earlier sketches, already posted previously but re-shared because this sinner is having a lazy Saturday. Hehehe.

God bless the heraldic wings of Gabriel - Friend of Muhammad the praise-worthy one! God bless the administering eyes of Mikhail - Custodian of worldly blessing! God bless the soothing calm for Man's sorrow, coming from the heavenly balm of Artiya'il the compassionate!

Angels make a good advertising board, if  you can distract him long enough
for a co-conspirator to dab your slogan on their wings.   

There are Arch Angels, mighty heralds of God. But others are less
glamorous ones that attend to the smaller things in life,
like the gentle blossoming of a flower.

Angels are everywhere. A particularly gigantic angel was there
high above the skies of France, observing the frantic dog-fights between
the bi-planes of the Luftwaffe and the RAF in 1918.

Generally all angels love babies and toddlers. Yeah... easy when they don't
have to put them to sleep and clean their poop. But they keep an eye
on us whenever they can. Guardian Angels have a sadder story. These
heavenly creatures are created and destined for each one of us. And as we
grow old and do stupid and foolish things, they become distant, forced away
by the cloud of errors that we smoke out of our ego-chimney. 

Let's find time to clean our ego-chimney, sunshine. For even if we cannot see or hear them, if our ego-chimney is cleaner and emit less smoke and smog, our Guardian Angels will come nearer to us, attracted as creatures of light(Nur) to the Nur of our own heart. And surely then, we would sense their nearness...

Have a happy Sabbath.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Nashua, the Angel with a Long Train and a German Rock Ballad

I am here because you called me, Nashua. 

An Angel with a Long Train and the Scorpion’s Love Lullaby

An angel robed with a long train
Walked past a mingling crowd of working mothers,
Sitting, standing waiting in a row
With their noisy, clapping, laughing children.
One girl, with curly locks over her brown eyes
Noticed the angel and said, “Hey! What are you?”
“I am an Angel.” Replied the Herald.
“Why are you here?”
“I am here because you called me, Nashua.”
She made a face and denied, “No. I didn’t.”
The Angel then explained.

“Yes, you did. Or rather, you will. 23 years in the future. You were heartbroken by a man (that scoundrel), and you were listening to radio pathetico. Then the German rock band, Scorpions came on air with their song ‘Send me an Angel’. When you heard it, you cried even more, and you whispered along with the song, “Here I am, send me an Angel…” So here I am, an Angel.”

“I do not understand. Then, why are you here NOW?” Said Nashua.

“Because at 31 years old, you have grown up, Nashua. And you have forgotten and unlearnt the innocence and wisdom of children. I cannot appear to you in the future. But I am touched by your sadness. So I have travelled to the past to see you. You must keep this memory so that you know that however ill-used you will become, your Guardian Angel and our Lord God is never far. “

She then ventured a question, “Will I remember this? To which the Angel said, “No. but perhaps the love of our connection will remain. So that at the very least, you will remember to call unto God and His Angels, however much you despair of your life.

Then, the Angel smiled. “For that is why, I am here, you see. You remembered me still. As an echo of a Love Lullaby. Even if it took the Scorpions to trigger your subconscious. To be perfectly honest, they are not exactly in Heaven’s Top 100, being you know... a little naff*. But we Angels have learnt to adapt to humanity’s strange caprice.”

Nashua did not fully understand the Angel’s extended monologue, but her wise 8 year old heart understood enough. “Well, I guess I must thank you, Mr. Angel.” With great dignity, the Angel bowed before Nashua, “You are most welcome, o’ daughter of Eve.”

The little girl blushed looking pleased, and said,

Okay, so now what?”

The Angel stood up to his full height and extended his hand, “Why, now we have a little time before I leave. Hop on my train, and I will take you for a ride.”

Nashua smiled, crying, “Yeah!” But then she paused, and asked, "Wait. What is naff?"

Footnote: Courtesy of the BBC website – meaning of ‘Naff’. N-A-F-F. British slang. It means worthless, tacky, unfashionable - 'that's naff', 'the party was naff', 'those clothes are naff' - unenjoyable, of poor quality. 'Uncool', I suppose people would say these days - 'that décor is naff', 'that software is naff', 'that pub is naff'. In other words, it's used in a huge variety of circumstances as a general dismissive term…

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

Truth be told, I am actually fond of the song by The Scorpions, being kinda naff myself. Anyway, if you would like to see the music video, Click Here.

Hope you enjoyed the story, sunshine. You may have noticed that time appears to be circular in the tale, begging the question, which actually happened first - the past or the future?    

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Pigeons and Ice Creams in Mecca - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 23



Some chaps in Mecca are deeply concerned about my health, and they would grunt loudly, "Haram! Haram!" (Forbidden! Forbidden!) as I enjoyed my cigarettes in the Holy City. In my high spiritual state of my pilgrimage, I would reply (in my head), "O' my brother... thank you for your concerns, but please, just shove it."



In my earlier posting, I think I mentioned that pigeons are always about in holy places. So this little fella must be the cousin of the birds I made acquaintance with in Jerusalem and Medina. It is cooing outside the window sill of our cramped quarters. He must be thinking, "Why is this pilgrim in his room while the faithful are making their steadfast way to the Masjidil Haram?" I hate pigeons, they are such nosy-parkers.



Wonderful, mad, chaotic Mecca. Even in the throng of humanity and God-awful diesel fumes of the big buses and SUVs that clog the streets, you are often moved to sit. To find a spot and simply contemplate and reflect.



What an ornate door, I thought. This is the old part of Mecca with tiny alley ways and small little townhouses jostling for room with mini-hotels, kebab shops, laundrettes, watch stores and jewellery shops. Looming over the old city is the new development sitting on the hill directly adjacent to the Masjidil Haram. Starbucks within 100 meters!

Continuation of Umrah Journal in Mecca…
- Umrah feeling – tried to recall what I learnt about prophet’s life pre-hijra (before his migration to Medina) – then it dawn (on me) the love for this mad chaotic city and its people - It is a mess and I am not surprised that the Jews and Christians were so shocked to even consider that a prophet can come from such people – but they have BIG HEARTS in their cunning and hard-working ways…

- spent time Monday morning – woke up early at 6 am after just 3 hours sleep – Just wanted to have a fag outside but wandered (the city) and bumped into Syful (my loyal companion in Medina) – we walked around and shopped for a couple of hours – and we talked about Nabi + Mecca + Hajja Amina Adil + her Beautiful book about the Prophet …

- Tuesday 10am – Visited Kaaba early morning / midnight. Said sorry for being cocky (see Posting entitled "Standing in front of the Holy Kaaba and thinking 'Hmm. Not so big after all.' - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 22" Click Here) the morning before – (Imagined) it answered “That’s okay, Taufiq. I knew you were grumpy and boy, were you tired that night! And after all, I never asked you to love me…”

The Kaaba is right, of course. It never asked to be adored. And Mecca also never asked to be adored. But the longer I stayed, the more I fell in love with the place. For wherever I am in the city, I cannot contain my emotion thinking, "He was born here. He lived, breathed, worked and married here to Khadijah the First. And it was here that one auspicious day he returned to his beloved wife and confessed to her that while doing seclusion, Gabriel the Arch Angel came unto him with a message from God."

Have a wonderful day, sunshine. God bless you.

Pax Taufiqa

Abu Bakar, Muhammad, the Gunny Sack and Gibrail Part 2 - Satisfaction, Expectations and Attachments

Mikhail, please! I am trying to concentrate...

This is a second part because the toon above is inspired by the poem posted in the earlier writing entitled, "Abu Bakar, Muhammad, the Gunny Sack and Gibrail Part 1 - Origin of Whirling (Click Here).

EXPECTATIONS & ATTACHMENTS. It is nigh impossible for anyone to live without expectations and attachments. But as the prose goes - it is important to place our greatest expectations and our highest attachments to He-Who-Won't-Disappoints. My mistake is always to place such expectations and attachments on worldly things and people. But the only expectations that is almost certainly guaranteed is that the world and mankind will inevitably fail to meet our highest expectations, but not because they are imperfect. For God vouches that we were made perfect. Imperfection 'occurs' when we see this world and its creatures though our ill-formed and rusty sight (Jelaludin Rumi tells me this). But this 'occurances' are only illusions in our heads. The reality of things are perfection and beauty, but we carry the disease of our egos and hubris into the Promised Land - cluttering the view and building chimney shacks that blacken the sky with the smog of our envy and jealousies. As seekers of Secrets and lovers of the Sublime, we must accept our responsibility and account for the feelings that we allow to dominate our actions.

DIVINE SAFETY-NET. So I believe that we are all on the high-wire act - Balancing on a narrow thread of whimsical satisfaction, while carrying our expectations and attachments and gingerly making our way up to Hu-knows-what. Hehehe. But you know, even if we fall (and oh boy, do I fall a lot!), there is still the safety-net of God. So even if we let ourselves down, He won't. Failure is not a Divine Attribute. But my advice is to at least try very hard stay on the wire. Because from my experience, the terrifying sensation of an emotional free-fall sometimes lasts like an eternity before we finally land *ka-plunk* into the Divine Safety-Net.

Have a nice day, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa

Dome of the Rock - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 11

WEST AND EAST JERUSALEM. We entered the city through the Jewish side which is West Jerusalem. It looked nice, clean and cosy, reminding me of the mews and close of old London, with beautiful gardens and picture pretty frontages. I remember passing by what appears to be a University campus and young Israelis walking to and from classes.

As our bus climbed up the hill, our arrival at the Arab quarter is announced by the stone walls of old Jerusalem, parts of it rebuilt by the Ottoman when they held Jerusalem. Feroz the guide mentioned that this is discernable by the Ottoman type architecture and design. I nodded sagely while wondering “But this end of the wall looks exactly like the other end of the wall…” No doubt a practiced eye would see the difference which is lost to this sinner-pilgrim.

We finally arrived at the appropriately named Holy Land Hotel. After a quick breakfast and shower (after almost 20 hours' travel, I felt and no doubt smelt like a camel's breath), we assembled outside for our walk to the Dome of the Rock and Masjid al-Aqsa (“Al Aqsa Mosque”). The roads of Jerusalem are narrow with impossible corners and turnings, but somehow tour buses and large lorries still manage to navigate the serpentine streets of this city (with a lot of shouting, hand waving and honking).

HEROD’S GATE. About 100 metres down from the hotel we arrived at Herod’s Gate, which is one of the many entrances into the Old Jerusalem. At the gate, the sign of ‘Allah’ (God) and ‘Muhammad’ in Arabic script adorned the right and left side (which is the traditional position – as Arabic script is written and read from right to left) of the entrance. The ubercool thing was that it was written on two road signs. This is the first thing which made me think, “Yowza. I like this town…”

The labyrinth of the old city was captivating. Down each alley, turning right into a corner, I feel myself walking back in time, as around me, Arabs children play and their elders drink coffee and smoke outside the shop fronts.

Despite my dreamy reflection, I was soon jolted into the present when I saw an abandoned police barricade - a sign of past troubles and an indication that while the city seems peaceful, tension and conflict is never far beneath the surface.

I must run! Even my companion travelers on wheelchairs are far in front of me. I turn left, then right after a Christian souvenir shop. I walked down a long straight which was kinda dark at the end. In the gloom, two bored Israeli police officers sat, (boy, they look young! In fact all Israeli soldiers and policemen I encountered looked to be in their 20s) observing with mild interest the arrival of these strange creatures from Malaysia.

THE DOME OF THE ROCK. Then suddenly, I saw a glint of gold. There it is, beyond the darkness of our troubling times, a light at the end of the tunnel. Beautiful and golden, glorious monument of the Prophet’s heavenly ascension…

How did it feel, sunshine? It felt familiar. Oh so familiar. Suddenly I am reminded why I am here. I am pursuing Love. As Muhammad did, when one serene night Gabriel came to him and led him away from Mecca, far away from Arabia… to the Land of the Prophets and to the City of Prophets and Saints - beautiful and captivating Jerusalem. It felt like a dream. And writing this now… It feels like I am there still.

Pax Taufiqa.

The Love Story Between Gabriel & Muhammad, and Angelic Humour

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ANGELIC HUMOUR. I don't actually believe that Angels have a sense of humour. You cannot stop me however from hoping that they do. But such is the enormity of their responsibility, and the identity of their Boss (the Almighty God) that such hopes appear unlikely to be fulfilled. Angels are creature of pure light after all, and how can we have humour without some colour. Unless of course, the Angels can be broken through the prism and unleash the colours contained in their nature. Then maybe they can make Haha. But I am not holding my breath.
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THE LOVE STORY OF GABRIEL & MUHAMMAD. It is however incorrect to suggest that Angels are totally devoid of personality. In the interaction between Gabriel and the Prophet Muhammad, there are stories which appear to suggest the delicate personality of this angelic herald of God. I believe that whatever happened to Gabriel, happened simply because of the Prophet Muhammad, and by the fact that the Arch Angel was the first of his kindred to give his bay'at (oath of love and loyalty) to Muhammad Messenger of God. I remember writing thus...

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101. The Oath of Angels
Gabriel had the honour
To be the first of his kind
To give bay’at
To Muhammad.
.
Blowing his circuits,
As he wonders,
What is this thing
Into me
Flooding?
.
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The existence of Angels, just like God Himself, is something which is believed implicitly based on faith. I cannot see them, nor do I hear them. But sometimes, quitely alone in the solitude of my writing, I feel them - "Look, look, he's writing about us again." I could feel them chatting. They are everywhere, being by far the most populous creation compared to Man and the Djinns. And they are certainly there with you, attending to you by the command of God, who first commanded all of Creation and the Angels to prostrate before our common grandfather, Adam.
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LOVECHILD. To every child born into this world, are anointed angelic guardians. They answer and are familiar to our true spirit. As a sinner, I do not know where my true spirit is residing. I know I am apparent, after all, I see my reflection in the mirror. But sometimes I feel I am hidden, and that these fingers that are typing these words now are being moved by invinsible strings. Mind you, we are not puppets, but I do believe we have a Master, more loving than the clouds, more forgiving than the rain. We just cannot see Him, that's all. It doesn't mean that He doesn't exist, nor that His Love is an illusion. How can it be, when you and I are here still? And I feel that slowly, I am falling in love with you already... Just like how Gabriel fell in love with the Prophet. And I am not confounded by anyone who says otherwise...
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46. Lot of the Self-Taught
O’ retarded spirits!
O’ puzzled kindred!
If Islam is not mystical,
Then show me God.
If Islam is not magical,
Then show me the angels.
If Islam is not spiritual,
Then show me thy spirit.
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Hah! It is to thy convenience
That thou scoff at us sinners.

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Have a lovely Thursday, sunshine.

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Pax Taufiqa