BEAUTY IS IN THE EYES OF A WOOKIE - Mikhail, Gungi and Emina...

299. Learn to Listen

You must learn

To listen

To your children.

For though

They may be the one

Asking the questions,

In truth, it is you,

Who is also learning.

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

My son, Mikhail is 9 years old now. And I guess like all children he is both curious and self-absorbed, both habitual and arbitrary, both learning and forgetting, resting and playing, and sometimes doing such contrary actions all together in a single moment. Sometimes he appears to be the kindest angel, while at times he can be overborne by impatience and confusion in a world where the adults say one thing, but do the exact opposite sometimes. I think it is tough being a kid, sorting out all the mixed signals we adults transmit in our daily lives.

When he is sleeping, I too get confused. I know Mikhail is Mikhail, but I when I gaze at him also know that he is me. And that a part of me and my kin is inside him. An epoch of previous lives making up part of what we and our children are. And I wonder sometimes, how shall we account compared to our ancestors, both the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly?

But what is beautiful and ugly anyhow? A young wookie may not be everyone's idea of the ultimate expression of beauty, but to Mikhail he certainly is. "But Gungi is sooo... cute, Papa!" My son exclaims. 

"Cuter even than Emina (Mikhail's malay-turkish cousin)?" I enquired. 

"Of course, Papa!"

Oh well then.

Listening in was Heche, and she unhelpfully interjected, "Do you know, Mika, we used to have a belief that pregnant woman who always looks at a particular person during her pregnancy, her baby will probably turn out looking like that person?" Mika's eyes widened, "Really?"

Heche, "Yes, reaaally..."

"In that case, when I have a wife, I am going to lock her up in a room with three types of food (Don't ask me why...) and hang pictures of Gungi all on the wall! Then I will have a baby that looks like a mini-Wookie! Yea!"

Heche laughed and simply commented, "I cannot wait to see how your wife will react to your plan, Mika."

Life is full of laughter and wisdom. And the ever-engaging personality of a 9-year old and his strange ideal of human (Wookie?) beauty.

alhamdulillah, sunshine!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

I do not understand... but I understand love

I Do Not Understand, But I Understand Love

I do not understand the world sometimes,

Because the language most natural to me is love,

I do not understand the news sometimes,

Because the only news I know is love,

I do not understand people's anger and hate sometimes,

Because the only emotion I understand is love,

And by God, because of this

I sometimes do not even understand myself

And the angry and despairing creature

Standing in the mirror in front of me.

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

I am leaving for Singapore again today. But I would have no problem speaking there because almost all Singaporeans can speak English. And of course there are also Malays there who can speak Malay, although some of them tend to speak in a lingo or dialect a little strange to us Malaysian Malays. A little bit 1970s era kinda lingo. He he he.

But Chinese or Malay or English, everyone can speak the Language of Love. It is manifest in our attitude and character, our patience and fortitude, our mercy and compassion. As a sinner, I fear that despite my 42 years of life, I am still in the Kindergarten of Love, and it is unsafe to leave me to my own ego and its cunning devices - often I caught myself speaking and thinking in another language. The language of the ego. I pray always to God to guide me, and to take me closer to His anointed Master of the Language of Love, our  own benevolent and loving Muhammad (s.a.w.s.).

Geo-politics and the geo-politicians of this world like to paint the world of despair and confusion. But that is simply because they are painting their global perception with the ego. I often do this and hope to lessen my addiction to this most foul of habits.

So pray for me always, sunshine. And I shall pray for you.

Let us endeavour to always converse in the Language of Love.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

By the Perak River with Tok Temong - The Prince Part 26

As I mentioned on Saturday, over the weekend I was in Kuala Kangsar, Perak. I was there with Mikhail on a roadtrip ("Living life on the road!", my 9 year-old son says). We left Kuala Lumpur at 8am and was chased all the way up the North-South Highway by a torrential downpour of epic proportions. There was a few hairy moments as we passed by coach buses and heavy lorries trundling up the road. "I don't want to die, God! I have not gotten enough pahala (good merits) yet!!!" protested Mika as the car slightly aqua-planed across a puddle of water on the road. Don't get me wrong, the highway is a well built construct and water drains well off it. But as I said, the rain was epic. 

We were coming up north to visit the final resting place of al-Marhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibni Sultan Azlan Muhibbudin Shah. But we are also visiting the maqam (tomb / grave) of Tok Temong, the legendary and real female saint of Perak. Her maqam rests on a quiet plot by the edge of the Perak River, and on the Saturday, Mika and myself managed to visit her first. Below are some pictures we took on the first day of our trip. Oops, I mean road trip. Sorry Mika. He he he.

My directions to the maqam of Tok Temong is sketchy at best. From some online
searches I managed to find the village of Kampung Temong Hilir about 10 minutes drive
from the royal town of Kuala Kangsar, the seat of the Throne of Perak. I also found online
a brief direction telling me to find the mosque in the village and head up another 100 metres
or so. And then there would be a small lane on the right. I saw one and hoping I found
the right place I headed down the quiet kampung road. There was only a few houses.
The road was still wet with the earlier downpour as my son and me slowly drove
through the thick undergrowth and tall trees. Somehow, the place felt right.

We found her alright, but I was a little disappointed to find that the maqam was fenced
and the gate was locked. But there was a small sign giving the cellphone number of the
caretaker. I called Abang Mus (brother Mus) and he said to hold for a bit as he would come.
Less than five minutes later he arrived in a small motorcycle, a dark-skinned gentleman of
41 years of age, a thin figure with an easy smile. He let us into the maqam.

This is a brief signage put up by the Museum Department. If I may translate it,
it reads, "Tok Temong was the (female) ruler of the Temong district before the rule
of Sultan Muzaffar Shah I (1528-1549). On the day of his coronation, His Majesty
was presented by her with a 'geliga embun' which became, to this day, one of the
royal coronation instrument of Perak. She was also responsible for granting
the rule of Inner Perak to the  present Perak state government.
- This maqam was built by the Museum Department in 1976."

Abang Mus later invited us to the riverside which was at the end of a long
steep concrete steps. Mika immediately rushed down.

At the riverside there is a small shelter built of wood and bamboo. There is
also a small rickety old jetty which juts out into the mighty Perak river. At the end of
the short jetty were two medium-sized stones rising above the waters. The two stones are
an important location for one of the royal coronation ceremonies of a new Sultan of Perak.
Tradition tells us that the two stones were originally one stone, but was broken in two by
an earlier Sultan (Sultan Mansor, I think) who later vanished (ghaib)
and was never to be seen again.

Abang Mus. In the background is Mikhail, beating a hasty retreat
after slipping and falling down. No, he wasn't hurt, he just hates
getting his jeans wet and dirty. Poor fella.

We had to postpone the trip to Ku Ash's maqam to the next day. While we rested
in Ipoh, Mika complained about his new Crocs that his mum bought him. "Yes, Papa...
it is almost pink!" he complained. "And it is the same size as Mummy's!" he paused
before continuing, "I bet Mummy bought it so that she can borrow it! I wish Uncle
Herman (Mika's stepdad) was doing the shopping! He wouldn't have got me this colour!!"

Well, that's it for the first day, sunshine. Sunday would be even better. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

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.

HANG TUAH, THE MALAYS AND ISLAM - in the foxhole of faith with you...

SEBELUM... 

Sebelum ilmu cukup di dada,

Sebelum adab cukup di hati,

Sebelum airmata cukup mengalir di mata,

Sebelum senyuman cukup terukir di bibir,

Sebelum murshid selesai bercerita,

Sebelum sunnah di jiwa bertumbuh subur,

Sebelum kita di kapan dan tersemadi di dalam kubur,

Selagi kita masih bernyawa...

Tahulah, wahai sahabatku yang disayangi,

Kebenaran hanya ada pada Allah dan Rasulnya.

Dan bukan milik seseorang insan abdi. 

BEFORE...

Before knowledge has filled up our chest,

Before good manners has filled up our heart,

Before we have shed enough tears from our eyes,

Before we have carved enough smiles on our lips,

Before the Master has finished his tale,

Before the traditions of the Prophet is growing healthy in our spirit,

Before we are wrapped in a shroud of white and lowered into our grave,

Know this, my beloved companion,

That truth is only with God and His Prophet

And not the property of any one servant.

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

We are always learning. From the first moment we open our eyes and to the last second we breathe our last. Thus, it is always best and the highest station of good manners (Adab) to be circumspect and discrete in how we live our life with people. So why be abrasive? Why be argumentative? The Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) himself said that a definition of his follower, is a person from who no one need worry of any harm, either from that person's hand or his mouth.

My name is Taufiq, and I am a Malay and a Muslim. But Allah(s.w.t.) has sent the Prophet Muhammad(s.a.w.s.) to all Mankind, and the Devil has declared war on all Mankind. So we are in it together, sunshine, in this foxhole of what little faith we have. And alhamdulillah, I am happy with your company, whether you are black, white, yellow or brown, whether you are a Muslim, a Jew, a Christian or a Hindu.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

In Certainty is Mercy

The Wedding of Fifi & Khaled - all's well that ends well!

Alhamdulillah, at about 6.15pm yesterday Khaled and Fifi consecrated their marriage vows in a simple Aqad ceremony at the bride's house. Despite the prayers of all involved, the mild afternoon rain turned into a right earnest downpour in the evening. "It is Fifi's tears, bro...," commented Kamarul, "...because she will lose her single status today in the sight of God Almighty, the Prophet Muhammad(pbuh) and Facebook."

As promised, these are some pictures we were able to take last night.

It is about 5.45pm, the hosts are ready, the cameraman is waiting patiently next
to the row of Hantaran (presents from the bride to be exchanged with the groom's
gifts), the youngish Tok Kadi (the religious dude to officiate the Aqad) is here
and in front of him is the two cushions for him to sit facing the groom (when
he arrives, that is)

Finally, Khaled's family arrived suitably wet from the downpour, with his aunties
and female cousins bearing his gifts on traditional dulangs (bronze trays),
consisting of non-traditional presents like an Apple iPad and a Nikon DSLR.

And then... like a dying camel arriving at an Oasis of Love, the groom, attired in his family's
traditional Arabic robes, arrives with a glitter in his eyes and a nervous smile.

"Dig for oil, here!" says the Shaykh.
(Hehehe. Khaled was actually asking where he was suppose to sit)

And a few minutes later, out comes the blushing Fifi from the bridal room carrying
a pretty bouquet of flowers. She will be sitting close by to witness the Aqad ceremony.

The father comes over with some official forms from the Tok Kadi to be signed
by the bride. With a brisk signature Fifi signs off her consent to marriage
and other assorted statutory declarations.

With a single recitation, Khaled completes the Aqad successfully. Sorry, no pictures
as I was behind him and concentrating real hard to listen to his recitation
of the contractual offer and acceptance of his marriage to Fifi. 

At the end, as in all weddings, happy smiles and poses all around.

It was still raining as we left later. There is Kamarul, Heche and Efa waiting for me
in the downpour. I stopped for a while to take this picture and let them get
a little bit more wet, just so I can post this pic on the blog.
I am a dedicated blogger, I am.

Such is life... Boy meets girl. Girl drives boy crazy. They get married.

Have a lovely sabbath, sunshine. We have the official reception to go to this afternoon, then the long drive back to Kuala Lumpur. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Love is Trouble... but it is a Beautiful Trouble - love and marriage in Perlis part 2

Love is like the rumbling thunder in the overcast skies of your heart.
"Uh Oh... sounds like trouble." your heart confides. And yes, it is
trouble, but it is a beautiful trouble.

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

1. While sipping coffee
While sipping coffee,
I was distracted by 
The veil of angels
That man call rainfall.

The curtain fall of
A billion angels
Plummeting earthbound,
As they cry out,
“Mercy is coming down!
Mercy is coming down!”

A few noticed me,
And they smiled
As they greeted me,
“Hi, Taufiq! Hi, Taufiq!
Do not listen to the whispering one!”
.............

Update - The Wedding Prep in Perlis. The above prose was recorded in early 2009. I am pretty sure I was sitting somewhere and it was raining, as it is right now here in Kangar, Perlis. Heche and Efa is at the bride's house, no doubt keeping the lovely girl's emotion steady and calm amidst the hustle and bustle of the wedding prep. Fifi is the eldest daughter, you see, and this wedding is the very first for her family. Nervous hearts all around. And now it is RAINING! Oh no... what will happen to the just-raised canopies and tents? But the rain is not too heavy (which by Malaysian standards means that it is not in the risk of uprooting 120 years old tropical trees), so we are hoping for the best.

As you have read in the earlier post this morning (and if you haven't, why haven't you?? Click Here), the marriage is of Fifi (Malay-Malay) with Syed Khaled (Arab Malay), and things are just getting interesting. I am here also with Kamarul, and it has been made clear to us that although we are friends with both bride and groom, that for today and tomorrow, we are with the bride's host and should, under no circumstances, 'act' as if we are with the groom's entourage... He he he. Boy, people sure get competitive at weddings! Not that Khaled will miss us, as he has about 100 strong already here or arriving soon. With the open invitation to the whole kampung (village), family and friends of Fifi, they anticipate more than 300 guests for today's Aqad (Muslim wedding ceremony), and about 700 tomorrow afternoon's official reception.

Love & Marriage. As we are in the topic of rain, love and marriage (which goes together like a horse and carriage, as the song aptly says), here is another prose recorded around the same time in 2009. It was written in the throes of passion for a human being called Heche. We have been to many, many weddings since, a few of my friends' but mostly hers. And as the rain falls more heavily today, I am wondering to myself, "When will our turn come?"

16. Like the rain

Whenever I look at you,

I am blessed by God,

Whenever I sit beside you,

I am blessed by God,

Whenever you smile,

And whenever you frown,

In that and all, I am blessed.

Whatever you say,

Whatever you don’t say,

Whatever you do, and

Whatever you don’t do,

I am blessed by God.

Like the rain,

You simply happened.

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

Good things ought not to be delayed, people say. So I am asking the Angels of the Rain to tender my application to God and His Prophet(pbuh) to hurry things up up there. Pray for us, sunshine.

I think there is a traffic jam of marriages destined to happen up there
in heaven. I hope the Angels will sort out the bottle neck and unclog
the matrimonial congestion. 

And to conclude, this is the ending of the collection of prose entitled 'Just between You and Me', more than 3 long years ago...

wa min Allah at-Taufiq

25th February 2009

There is only God, and naught but God,

And by my skin that hides my soul,

And by the bones that bear my body,

And by the fire of my ego, and the crowning throne

That is the heart to be possessed by my Him,

Muhammad Habibullah al-Mustafa,

Abu Arwah, the most perfect Rose

In the Garden of my Lord’s creation, it is He! It is He

That is the Messenger of God!

All Glory to God!

All Praise!

All Thought!

All Love!

All Life!

All me!

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

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

A Wedding in Perlis - Pictures tell stories

Fifi's parents love gardening I guess. They have an interesting batch of pink and
orange hibiscus around their little patch of village in Kangar. The red version is
the national flower of Malaysia.

The sinner is in the northern state of Perlis Indera Kayangan, the smallest little state in the Federation of Malaysia and the rice basket of the country. I have not been here for 30 years, I reckon, and am glad to know that things have developed decently, although the old ways are, happily, still the same. As we left our spanking new hotel last night, I was shocked to find a rice combine harvester, ploughing through a paddy field which we did not even noticed were right there in front of the hotel.

I am here for a wedding of two dear friends, Fifi and Syed Khaled, expected to take place this late afternoon after Asr prayers at her house just a five minutes drive from here. The marriage is an interesting amalgamation of Fifi who is a thoroughly Malay girl (with some spots of Siamese heritage I suspect), and Khaled who originates from Arabian stock.

I have misplaced my beloved songkok (traditional black-coloured Malay head gear) during the Eidul Fitri celebrations, and am now rushing to the small city (okay... let's call it a town) of Kangar to look for a replacement. So I can't write much right now. Below are some more pictures I managed to take yesterday.

When we arrived, Fifi the blushing bride was frantically asking us,
"Ooh... take me out! Take me out of my house at least for a while,
I cannot stand anymore of this wedding preparation!" So after telling
her father a bald-faced lie, we headed to Fifi's favourite seafood restaurant
at the jetty in Kuala Perlis. You cannot even see the place from the main road,
and would have to walk down this dark lonely path to find it.
Only the locals knows the place, she says. Wow. Exclusive.

Along rickety and loose planked pier we walked (or is it a jetty?), and pass
through the trees and small houses we arrive at the restaurant, hidden from
prying eyes and with a view of the Straits of Melaka. There were many Muslims
eating, but Fifi had once earlier asked the Chinese proprietor whether the food was
halal (permissable for Muslims). He blustered his reply,
"Waa... Agung pun makan sini! (Even the King have eaten here!)" He he he.

We didn't know what to order, but happily Fifi's relatives were having their dinner
at the next table. So we sought their advice and tested their food before ordering
ours. Yes. Fifi, and by proxy all of us, is quite shameless.

After dinner and incessant calls from her mother to come home, we left happy, satisfied and sleepy. Heche however went to do her best-friend-job and stayed with Fifi to help her with the wedding prep until later into the night.

Now it's 10.50am here in Kangar. And they are waiting for me. Gotta go now, sunshine. See ya later!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Two Languages and Two Personalities - trashing out a new blog and the startling discovery of another personality...

It's you! It's no one else. He just sounds a little different, that's all...

I have been busy this weekend, sunshine. I am trying to concoct a blog in my native Bahasa Melayu (Malay) language. It is funny how we appear to have different personalities in one body, and think and write in different languages. It is not as unusual as some people may think, and I have an impressive royal personage from the past who said something along a similar vein...

I speak Spanish to God, Italian to women, French to men and German to my horse

(Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, 1500-1558 a.d.)

If you can understand Malay, you might want to read it. It's entitled 'Chembul' and can be accessed by Clicking Here.

My posting in my native Malay is very different from the Almanac. The language is err... how shall I say it...  replete with marketplace language (bahasa pasar), informal and often crass. It is very crude with little subtlety, almost non-existent prose and even my late sainted mother would be reluctant to consider it a fine piece of writing. And to top off this strange menagerie of language, I have adopted a different personality too, for I am known as 'Gue' in this new blog. Let me tell you that this is a startling surprise even to myself.

I am not sure whether I can keep up two blogs in my life. As it is, I am stealing time between chores and work to handle the Almanac, so perhaps I won't be maintaining Chembul. We will see...

Nothing to report today, sunshine. Just the strange thoughts that writers think in their tiresome search to find their voice... In whatever and however many languages they are 'fluent' in. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Apakah Agama Tanpa Nabi? What is religion without the Prophet? - Our Hari Raya cards....

Our office is finalizing our Eidul Fitri greeting cards to be sent to our friends and clientele to mark the end of the fasting month of Ramadhan and the 1st day of Syawal. Here in Malaysia such cards are commonly known as 'Hari Raya' cards, meaning 'Day of Festivities / Celebration' in Malay. Our girls have chosen the design and I was asked to do the inlay text, but this time in Malay. I initially had an idea and the first line of the prose to be printed in the greeting card went like this -

Apakah hidup tanpa mati?

(What is life without death?)

I emailed out the suggestion to Aeenzy, who is organizing the printing of the cards. Immediately I got a call from our latest (and youngest) addition to our office, who asked me earnestly, "TK? Are you SURE you want this in the Raya card?" I answered in the affirmative. Why not? After all, isn't death also an event worthy to be celebrated? When we are united with our Maker? But I guess it depends on how you die. He he he.

But sometimes there is no need to share ALL truths. And I think most people are less keen to be reminded of their mortality when they open a greeting card, especially a Hari Raya greeting card. So after some thought, I amended the prose, and the poem inside of our card will now read thus...

Apakah...?

Apakah jasad tanpa hati?

Apakah jantung tanpa nadi?

Apakah iman tanpa erti?

Apakah agama tanpa Nabi?

What is...?

What is a body without a heart?

What is a heart without a pulse?

What is faith without understanding?

What is religion with the Prophet?

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

It sounds better in my native Malay, I guess. It rolls off the tongue quite well, don't you agree? But then again, I am biased. He he he.

I like bringing the Prophet Muhammad(pbuh) into the picture. I think he is a one-Prophet-fit-for-all-occasion-kinda-divine-emissary. It is not protocol or spiritual etiquette. It just feels good. Like breathing.

I guess we all have our own way of breathing. But whatever creed you may be holding, may your own breath that you exhale glorify the Lord, and may the next breath that you inhale give thanks to His all-encompassing Mercy and Compassion.

Have a lovely night, sunshine. For it is night here and the fast is over for today.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Hang Tuah and the Prophet Khidr - some miles out from Mecca, a long, long time ago

My very own copy, almost 50 years old.
A gift from Heche...

Hikayat Hang Tuah (The Tale of Hang Tuah) is an ancient manuscript of old Malay literature. It has been approached more for its literary style and depth, rather than as a historical document, as 'fables' and 'tales' often are, such as the tale of King Arthur and his Excalibur.

When I mentioned to a dear friend recently, that I am currently reading this opus, he wryly commented, "Well, you know... its all tahyul (superstition and fantasy)." I kept my peace but I thought (silently to myself), "But isn't God the biggest 'tahyul' of them all? Tahyul in the context of something that cannot be seen and verified by the human eye? Him and His angels and the droves of Djinn that as Muslims, we are still bound to believe in?" But I felt it best to leave the metaphysical debates aside (for now), and we chatted on to other matters.

Well, to begin with, Hang Tuah is the hero, the Malay arch-type of virtue, courage and loyalty in the Malay consciousness, myth and history. Myth because some of the events which he took part in are of true supernatural nature, but historical because he was referenced by chroniclers of the old Melaka Sultanate. He was a warrior, palace captain, statesman and admiral of the Sultan. And he was also very much a human being, as is depicted in the narrative of the Hikayat. The Hikayat itself is not very descriptive and is told more as a narration as you will see in the excerpt below. I do not guarantee the accuracy of some of the old malay words, but I think I managed to get the gist of the meaning.

I find this particular story interesting because it involved Hang Tuah (known here as the Laksamana, meaning an Admiral or Commodore) on a very long journey from Melaka to Constantinople (Istanbul) as the head delegate of the Sultan of Melaka to the Caliph. Along the way however, the Laksamana and the Maharaja Setia (I think he's a courtier and ambassador of the Sultan) along with their delegation and crew of a few hundred men landed in 'Judah' which is in fact present day Jeddah, the port city that serves the holy city of Mecca and Medina. From there they decided to visit Mecca. It was so hot, the Hikayat recalled, that the caravan only traveled at night and it was in this journey, still some way from Mecca that this excerpt continues. Where the Laksamana Hang Tuah found himself in the presence of the Prophet Khidr -

"Thereupon, the Laksamana walked towards a secluded place to relieve himself. And along the way he saw an old man sitting upon a white rock ( that is as white) like washed cotton. And when the old man saw the Laksamana coming near, immediately the old man came down and walked towards the Laksamana, with greetings of salam (peace) upon the Laksamana. And verily did the Laksamana return the courteous salutations of the old man. "O' Laksamana (said the old man), please lend me a silver tale, for I am a hungry poor dervish (darwish) unable to buy even bread.

Looking at the old man closer, the Laksamana felt, "This is no dervish, to my mind, this is either a Prophet or a Saint of God." The Laksamana then took two to three silver riyal from his pocket and offered them to the old man. But the old man only took one riyal and thereafter he embraced the Laksamana and kissed his head while saying, "My son Laksamana, please take this chembul (a pot or small receptacle to keep liquid) and when you are unable to speak the language of the people (that you will meet), pour out some of the water in this chembul and wipe it on your lips and your ears, that you may converse with them. I am the Prophet Khidr.

Whereupon the old man vanished into thin air..."

Did you say Khi.... *poof*

Khidr is an ancient Prophet of old. There is some tale of him that I am aware of, and most famous is his encounter with the red-haired, red-bearded and fiery Prophet Moses. That's what I mean, he's been around for ages. And according to my friends, Khidr is with us still... doing all sorts of stuff for God and Prophet(pbuh), tweaking events and people on earth as per Divine Orders. Fascinating stuff.

I really must disappear now (like Khidr). Thanks for dropping in, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

You are here again. Is it because you love Me?

The Meaning of Praying

Ho seeker! Said the Lord,

What are you doing here?

You are not obliged to talk to Me

Until the next cycle…

Do you miss talking to Me?

Do you miss My nearness?

Do you miss being free with your feelings?

Do you miss the intimacy you share with Me

Which you cannot share with any other?

Do you miss the hymn, the meaningful pauses

And gentle silences?

Oh, you noticed, did you?...

The carpet and curtain of flowers

That I drew for you when you stepped

Out of My mosque?

Oh, you saw, did you? ...
The yellow blooms falling gently

And you wondered, “Is this a farewell for me?”

You were obliged to come to My House,

But no obligation is compelling you now,

So why are you here?

Is it because you think you Love me?

…………………

The meaning of Sembahyang / Solat

It is difficult to talk without pretense. For our multi-layered personality manifests itself in what we speak. It is not that we wish to talk falsely, but as human beings we are quite good at misguiding ourselves. So even if we speak the truth, it may not be the whole truth.

Manifestation of the Complete Truth is only before The Truth

It is only before Truth Himself that the whole truth of what we say and the whole truth of who we are, manifest itself. For one of the known attributes and names of God is al-Haqq, meaning The Truth. Yes, we do confide our happiness and sadness, our problems and successes with a beloved, be it a mother, a father, a BFF (best-friends-forever), mate or spouse. But he or she will not read the complete truth, for he or she is not God. 

Natural as Breathing

Perhaps that is why people of any religion, when they bow, kneel or prostrate themselves before God, hold praying in the highest of regards. For them, it is not a chore nor a ritual. It is as natural as breathing. And that, I think, is the essence of the perfected faith.

Umar al-Khattab Mosque, Bukit Damansara

The Perfect Host of the Spiritual Feast

As a Muslim, a sembahyang / solat (sembahyang is the Malay word for prayers, in Arabic it is solat, we use them interchangeably) is like accepting a keen invitation – obligatory because there is nothing finer that you can do for those brief minutes you spend in prayers to God. It is an invitation to an intimate soiree, and sometimes, when you are praying in a group, God as the Perfect Host has even designated a singer, the Imam (leader) in front of the congregation, to recite in melodious harmony the poetry in perfection that is the Quran. At this feast, spiritual food has been prepared and perfected for anyone to partake. And there is no end to the dishes for your delicate tastebuds – Dishes refined in Divine Love, Beauty, Poetry, Compassion, Tolerance, Friendship and Servanthood. A compelling spiritual menu for any human being hungry for spiritual succor. That is the meaning of Sembahyang / Solat to me. Alas, how can it be any other way when your Host is God Himself?

Well, this is my understanding of prayers at this point anyway. Tomorrow, who knows? Perhaps it will get better and better. I hope so too...

God bless you, sunshine. May you find solace and joy in your pious rituals, however you may pray to the One God that we all share.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Oranges in the Sea, Coconuts on the Streets - Chap Goh Meh and Thaipusam in Malaysia

"Please... send me a good man, a handsome man, a wealthy man but even-tempered... not fat...
...nice skin... good family background... no busy-body mother..."

"I cannot imagine the state Penang must be in!" Mused Heche about her home island of Penang. "Oranges in the sea yesterday, and coconuts on the streets today!"

"Whatever do you mean?" I inquired.

"Well, yesterday was Chap Goh Meh, and today is Thaipusam, isn't it?"

Ah yes, she is right. I forgot.

Such is the condition of my country, Malaysia, with a majority of Malays, and a very sizable population of Chinese, Indians and other colourful assortments, that we are blessed (a former Prime Minister rather says we are cursed) by many public holidays. In total we have 14 national holidays (including Eid ul Fitri and Chinese New Year which is both celebrated over 2 days). At state level there are additional holidays spread more or less evenly amongst the states through out the year, almost 30 in all, I reckon.

Chap Goh Meh (or Chap Goh Mei, some would call it) is celebrated on the 15th night of the Chinese New Year here in Malaysia. In the old conservative days, it was the only time when single young women of marriageable age was permitted out of their homes, to be dressed in beautiful clothes and stroll up and down the street, but still under the fierce and keen eyes of their aunties. Young men would stand close by, watching the rarely seen maidens parade in their best costumes. The women would also visit the temples, asking for a heavenly matched husband and the beginning of a good and prosperous year. Another tradition also saw these girls throw oranges into a lake on the belief that the man who picked up their orange would inevitably be their future husbands. In Malaysia sometimes a lake is not conveniently available, so they make good with rivers, streams and even the sea, as in Penang. In order to identify your particular orange, nowadays some girls write their cellphone numbers or email addresses on their oranges. Ah, love makes fools of all of us.

Heche texted me late last night that the coconut breaking symbolises the breaking
of one's ego, revealing the purity within, the banishing of obstacles in life
to a begin a clearer and brighter future.

That was last night. Today (being Tuesday, 7th February) marks the Hindu Thaipusam (a national holiday), and we shall see a mass throng of devout Hindus in temples all over the country coming to worship, pray for good things, carry Kavadis in a procession to the temples (See picture below) and throw coconuts on the streets. Of all temples, none shall be as festive and crowded with the Hindu faithful (and curious tourists) as the Batu Caves temple complex not far from my house. Each year at least a million strong is expected.

Kavadis are carried normally as part of a solemn religious vow by the individual.
This guy must have asked God for something really spectacular.

This is my country. Full of varying ethnicity and religion. I am not much for the commonly bandied term of an 'Islamic country' but I  reckon the freedom and recognition of religious rights and festivities of non-Muslims makes my country Islamic indeed - In a very real and poignant way which is beyond the understanding of religious extremists. 

Religion does make people extremist and intolerant. It is people who make religion extreme and intolerant. I am ever thankful to God that in Malaysia we have enough people who actually make their respective religion tolerant and beautiful. And look at the plus side... we have lots of holidays!

Have a wonderful day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way