LOVE IS HERE, TO BANISH SADNESS FOREVER - The Prince Part 30

Istana Iskandariah, Bukit Chandan, Kuala Kangsar, Perak.
30.03.2013

Tears, the Lover's Ink

Sweet yearning, Love's calling,

Sweet tears, the Lover's ink,

No more guessing,

No more thinking,

Love is writing my desire for him

On the canvas of my heart,

I draw the shades across my red eyes,

Unfamiliar to share my hidden passion

And my impatience to once again

Serve him... my master.

Wither goes the Prince with the gentle eyes?

Bright was his mantle!

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

I spent a good two hours yesterday morning with my good friend Moses, and our good old friend, the Cockroach-Squasher. He is called thus because one day many years ago, I spoke of the Sufis' enemies, once unknown but now world famous as the Wahhabis. And he said, "Bah! I want to squash the Wahhabis like a cockroach!", mimicking a man squashing the unfortunate bug under his grinding foot. 

Tough guy. But no man (or woman, come to think of it), however tough, however rough, however hard-bitten by life has an atom of chance when Love comes calling. As I have often shared with you... Love, like rain, simply happens. Throw away the umbrella, cast aside your raincoat, for nothing will stop Love from seeping into your heart, especially when Love flows from the fountain of Divine Presence, gracious but with unyielding certainty, passionate but in the most consummate Adab (good courtesies and manners), until masyaAllah, you suddenly find yourself in Love.

Sitting, in perfect adab, next to his Master in Qubruz,
almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibni Sultan Azlan Shah.
al-fatiha

Have a happy day, sunshine. Love is here, to banish sadness forever.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE ADAB OF THE NIGHTINGALE & THE MUREED - The Prince Part 28

The Adab of the Nightingale and the Mureed

One night I saw a nightingale and a mureed take flight,

The nightingale flew with a pair of dull-feathered wing,

But the mureed flew with the wings of knowledge and love,

But the flying itself? The flapping of the wings 

And catching the draft and the wind?

That was the adab of the nightingale and the mureed!

And though neither disclosed this secret to me

In song or sermon,

Their flying adab was eloquent in its confession.

This I witnessed that night, 

In the flight of the nightingale and the mureed

To Hu knows where across His Mercy Ocean...

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

al Fatiha...

One year ago today, almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibni Sultan Azlan Shah (q.s.) passed on from the cage of this physical world. This afternoon I myself passed my Sabbath at Istana Iskandariah in the royal town of Kuala Kangsar, Perak for Shaykh Raja's tahlil (prayers for the deceased) and mawlud (remembrance and praise for God (s.w.t.) and His Prophet Muhammad s.a.w.s.). Having never been there before, it was an eye-opener for me.

Across a blue sea of turbans, I watched as the mureeds (students) sang praise of the Prophet (s.a.w.s.) in loving dedication and memory for their beloved Shaykh Raja. For these fine fellows (and gals) the anniversary of their Shaykh's passing is not just a time of remembrance, but also celebration. And they did it wonderfully under the presence of Shaykh Bahauddin Adil, who flew in from Cyprus to grace this occasion for his spiritual brother...

This was how I have been spending my Sabbath. How was yours, sunshine? I pray it was good too!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Dead are not Dead in Spirit - The Prince Part 27

Falling into the Sea

Falling in love is like falling into the sea

And not knowing how to swim,

You trash about, your hands flaying like crazy

Trying to keep afloat, trying to keep your reason,

Nobody sees your struggle, nobody understands your pain,

A little tiny speck in a vast ocean,

Until finally, you understand your Lover,

And learn how to breathe

Under water.

The Norms of the Afterlife

Life is all about

Preparing for the afterlife,

And acquainting yourself

To the norms of

The afterlife.

In its kind courtesies,

Its gentle ways,

Its subtle nuances,

Its mighty mercies,

Its infinite ocean

Of the Lord.

The Milk in the Pitcher

I am here,

But I am not all here,

I am a creature of history,

And this life is but one step 

In a journey from the past

To the future.

So excuse my haste

For I am in a hurry,

And it is my constant wonder

That people do not see

There is little milk

Left in the pitcher,

And I look towards this life and the next

As a divine adventure.

Death, my Kinsman

O’ Death!

Come to me gently in the Reality

Of what you are and who I am,

Come to me unmasked

And I shall wait for you unmasked,

Cast aside that face you wear

And I shall cast aside this face I wear,

For if ALLAH has in Truth, created,

He has created only Muhammad,

And in one body,

Can there beat more than one heart?

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

In the second morning, you will find Mikhail wandering around the royal cemetery of the Perak royal household on Bukit Chandan in Kuala Kangsar. "Where are the babies?" he asked as he looked around, standing on the side of a hill by the edge of the Perak River. He is always fond of babies and makes a particular effort to find their final resting place whenever we visit the garden of stone that is the garden of the dead. He wondered aloud why some graves were in 'cages' (iron fences, actually). I reckoned because they were close kin and told him so.

We finally found al-Marhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah's grave lying in a small quadrangle of the Maqam diRaja (Royal Mausoleum), still in its open soil without any marbled tomb raised above it. We normally leave the grave untouched for at least one year for the earth and soil to settle before raising its marbled edifice. Otherwise there is always the risk of the heavy marble sinking into the soil and cracking.

Before we left the royal town, we paid our last visit to Tok Temong's maqam. It was a lot warmer than yesterday, but a river side breeze came to cool the heat of this Sunday morning. Mika apologised for rushing our visit yesterday and looked pleased, as if he had settled an account. I cannot help but smile at his entreaties.

Sometimes I think that cemeteries and maqams, especially those that hold in their breadth the memories of the saints are wonderful places. A penthouse mansion that rises high above the mad rushing life of this world and its rat-race. I am glad Mikhail has no fear of such places. Indeed, he appears very much comfortable and contented. I think this is a good lesson for his future, however Allah (s.w.t.) and the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s) may plan it. 

God bless the dead, for they are not dead in spirit. God bless our children, for they are fresh with the spirit of life, curiosity and hope. And God bless you, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

The Prince. The link to this post has been uploaded to The Prince Page, which contains all previous postings relating to al-Marhum Shaykh Raja Ashman. You can access the page by clicking here.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Above My Bed of Frangipani Flowers

Above My Bed of Frangipani Flowers

I am not going to be building towering towers,

I am not going to fill libraries with my writings,

I am not going to sculpt a David, a Venus or anybody,

I am not going to climb the highest mountain,

I am not going to get one billion hits on my Youtube video,

I am not going to be a stinking rich writing a computer program

Nor will I be known for my singing prowess,

I only hope to live the rest of my life

Being as little a problem to anyone,

And that is how I hope to while away my hours,

And if anyone cares to carve an epithet,

I hope it will simply read, "He was a nice fellow to know"

Above my bed of frangipani flowers...

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

I am on a roadtrip with my son, Mikhail. Early this morning we left Kuala Lumpur for the royal capital of the state of Perak, my mother's hometown and coincidentally the hometown of al Marhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibn Sultan Azlan Shah (Ku Ash).

Mikhail with his Upin and Ipin comic.
We stopped by the Tapah rest area for breakfast.

Perhaps my soul is less ambitious than others. Perhaps my soul knows me enough not to expect too much from me. Sometimes I think that my soul's only pretension to virtue and goodness for me is that..."If, he doesn't accidentally step on an ant today, I would be happy."

We are spending the night here in Ipoh, the state capital, just a half-an-hour's drive away. Tomorrow we shall be making one more visitation to Kuala Kangsar, then a leisurely drive back home.

Ku Ash. Prince of Perak, Sultan of Hearts...
al fatiha

Have a wonderful Sabbath, sunshine. God bless you.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way