THE HOUSE OF A FRIEND IN JANDA BAIK... and the Reality that you choose, and that has chosen you

"It is so green here, Papa."

After 2 weeks of no-holiday-holiday (according to Mikhail), we finally managed to break the grip of endless tuitions (for him) and work (for myself) to escape the city and make our way up to Janda Baik, that idyllic little village nesting in the hills outside Kuala Lumpur.

Nothing to do but lie in bed with the laptop. But to be honest we just spent a short time
in the room before heading out to explore the resort.

There is a small balcony fronting the lake which is actually pool-sized. But the fishes
make a happy company, coming under the balcony hoping to be fed whenever you
venture out. Can they see us from down there, or do they have another sense
that alerts them to the presence of an obliging human?

The flowers are in full bloom up here in Janda Baik.
This giant yellomindus blimeyidontknowthenamus
is at least 3 inches long from stem to petal.

We headed to a nearby house of a Friend. Another friend is caretaker but he was not
at home. Mikhail tried to make friends with the many(many) cats of the house. But
he observed, "These village cats are different. They are not so friendly." 

We got lost looking for the family retreat of another friend, Sheik Feisal Bajrai. With
almost zero network in some parts of the village, it was difficult going. But next morning
we woke up early and found the house. The gate was shut, but Mika opened it and we happily
trespassed in. I walked around the back and found Feisal's mum and dad and a Singaporean
relative having early coffee. Uncle Bajrai invited us in, and they fed us fried rice.
This is what you call Hadramaut hospitality. He he he.

We brought our bow and arrows, so after breakfast we set for some serious play at archery.
For almost 2 hours, I reckoned, we shot arrows, together with Feisal's relations from
Temasek. Balqies, his daughter also joined in the fray. I am happy to say that the new
45 pounder bow excelled! Feisal showed me his 60 pounder whose strings I could
barely budge. What a beautiful morning in their 1.4 acre estate... lovely.

After the easy archery exercise, we bade our gratitude and farewell to the Bajrais
before heading back to the House of a Friend. And again, we missed our custodian
friend, Tutak. But we did not mind much. We sat around under the ancient house and
Mikhail made friends successfully this time with his cats. Nothing better than a little
bribe to seal a friendship, I always believe. He he he.

It seemed a sin not to stop by the streams that run through the village.
So on the way back we took a break by a nice bend of river and Mikhail played
in the shallows. Unfortunately the shorts he wore was not meant for such
aquatic fun and kept dropping down. He was mooning everyone there. And I
was constantly shouting to him without any effect, "Pull your pants up, Mika!!"

Well, that's my short record of our road trip, sunshine. My final observation is the many, many sightings of moths, butterflies and dragonflies through out the trip. They were everywhere, hovering and buzzing about, their wings flapping energetically in the breeze. With each flap of their wing, a dzikr (remembrance) of Allah's (swt) name can be heard, but even more, can be seen. You just need a little of that God-given imagination of yours to realise the manifestation of love that is welling up in your heart. And of course, if you have asked God for your firstborn to be a tasbih (rosary) to ever remind you of Him and His Beloved Muhammad (saws), it is no mere imagination. 

It is the Reality you choose, and the Reality that has chosen you.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

-Notrumi Embun, 12th June 2014

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

SCOUT JAMBOREE LITE - fathers and mothers, sons and daughters...

Mikhail and his tent mates...

Jamboree Lite. Last weekend Mikhail went on what I might define as a scout jamboree 'lite'. From what I could reckon, there was no hikes, no campfires or anything too arduous for these primary school kids. I am not complaining, as like Mika, many of the children were just 10 years old, and possibly their first night ever under a tent. A tent, in a school field in Taman Tun Dr. Ismail, a prosperous suburban neighbourhood not far from my own neighbourhood. In fact, the school field is just across the road from a restaurant that I often go for dinner. So I wasn't too worried. He he he.

Mikhail and his huge orange suitcase. Just what you need for a camping adventure.
I can assure you that Mika's luggage was the biggest at the jamboree.
I saw some other scouts arriving carrying only their every day school bag and a humble plastic bag. 

Delinquent Parents. In the three days and two nights the scouts were at the "camping site", hilarious and almost unbelievable stories started to turn up on the school moms Whatsapp group. There were some parents who continued hanging around in the school compound way after the scout program officially started. Other parents trotted off to the (conveniently nearby) shops to buy additional food and drinks for their kids, whom they fear would possibly starve or become severely malnourished during the weekend. But perhaps, the most amazing story involved a parent who was seen to actually helping his/her son to shower and change. I put the words 'his/her' to be polite, but I bet it was the mum. He he he.

Finally, unable to stand the interfering parents any longer, the scouts' working committee from Mikhail's school issued a warning to all parents to stay away from the school and camping ground until they are suppose to pick their kids up on Sunday afternoon. If any parent is spotted in the school compound, the committee warned, their child will be asked to immediately leave the program.

I don't blame the committee, because, after all, Mika's school is only one of 5 (I think) schools that sent their scouts for the weekend camping program. I think most of the delinquent parents were from Mika's school. Oh the shame of it all... 

He he he.  

Exhausted but exhilarated. I can still recall such childhood feelings.

But most importantly, despite the attempts by mum and/or dad to totally sabotage the scout camping weekend, I think it went well. When I picked up Mikhail, he was tired and hungry, yet I could see he was also exhilarated by the experience. "I really enjoyed sleeping in a tent, Papa.", he said. "We slept at one in the morning and got up at five!", he added. "I liked the chicken rendang (a very rich coconut based chicken dish... so much for the threat of starvation) that we ate!" And happily, Mika is keen to go for more camping, perhaps next time, at a proper camp site somewhere in the forest. And I bet for that one, the parents won't be furtively keeping watch in the bushes nearby. 

But then again... you never know what mums can get up to when they think their offspring are at risk! 

God bless the patient teachers and scout masters, and God bless all crazy parents.

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

MH370, a Postscript -We all know the news surrounding the tragic event of Flight MH370. May all friends and kin of the missing passengers and crew of that plane, find the courage to persevere with hope and faith as they pick up the shattered pieces of their lives. And for the rest of us, we who mourn with them in this difficult times, we can only pray to understand the lessons from this incident, that it may make us a better human being, and a better Christian, Buddhist, Jew, Hindu, Muslim, Atheists or Agnostics. 

Because, after all... whatever the nature of your belief or disbelief, we are all still part of one humanity.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

Making the Prose of Rumi more Beautiful and the Discourses of Geylani more Meaningful - honest toil and the virtues of household chores

Prose does not put food on the table, the kitchen stocked
nor the pathways and bathrooms clean...
For that we need the honest toil of workers and domesticity
of the home-makers. Blessed be the Prose of God in action!

(Prologue: This write-up is inspired by the exhaustion of the sinner after only two days' prep and household chores for yesterday's Eid open house. I plonked dead on my bed at 10pm, waking up 12 hours later...)

Kids... Mikhail and Imran.
You want them not to make the mistakes
you have made, and the easiest way is for you
to nag them. But the best way is by example.
You know it, I know it and
they know it too! (dammit)

Secrets. So what? There are secrets, and there are secrets of secrets. On the spiritual path, you will be pleased to know that many veils of such secrets are lifted,... and hey! Kudos to you because you now know! But so what?

For what is the point of knowledge if it is not manifested in your every day life? And as a registered sinner, I am the first to admit that this is not easy. But there are some very basic things which is important and we must at least try to do.

Self Improvement. The path (tarikat) does not enjoin the seekers to give up on the world, for there is much to do and improve, if we would only realise this. And of course it all begins with our own selves, first and last. For the journey to improving our habits and life style does not end until we exhale our last. So for acolytes of the mystic ways to espouse great transcendental knowledge about God and humanity, about the ordering and corruption of society... they must ask first what they are doing (or trying to do) to remedy their own faults - Their own personal health and eating habits. Their own exercise and concern for the household and their neighbours. After all, if nothing is attempted, nothing is gained. 

With Knowledge comes Responsibility. But for those blessed with secret knowledge, the responsibility is heavier. For as Imam Shafi'e said - Knowledge without practice is arrogance. In other words, you are principled in words and thoughts, but unprincipled in actions. This is not a good place to be in. In fact, it would be better to know less or nothing at all.

Honest Living. If you toil every day for an honest living, you gain money and wealth. With that prosperity, you can share it with your family and friends, your neighbours and needful charities, and there are a great number of people needing help out there. If you do not work, what are you contributing to the world? Whether you are trading, working for people, there is always room to work. 

Mikhail is a grandson of a great and efficient home-maker.
Though he never got the opportunity to meet my mum,
I hope to instill a little of my mum's domesticity in him.
(And in my own lazy self, come to think of it.)

The Prose of Rumi, the Discourses of Geylani. Even if you have no job whatsoever, you can at least be helpful about the house. For me, fixing the toilet, changing the light bulbs, sweeping the garden and throwing away the rubbish properly, are all a necessary and distinguished part of life. For it makes life for ourselves and everyone around us better. Menial though these chores may be, but the truth is they make the prose of Rumi and the discourses of Geylani even more beautiful, poignant and moving. Otherwise, are we not merely pandering to our spiritual ego?

Household Chores. Such things must be taught when young. And we must take the effort and be patient with our children. Otherwise, they will grow up dismissive of domestic chores, giving little credit to the little wives, mothers and sisters without whom a house can turn into a dung heap really, really fast.

So God bless all house-makers, and may we always be reminded to help them in their virtuous work!

Oh, and thank you to all who came yesterday. Most of all, I did the open house in loving memory of my late mother, Arbayah binti Haji Hashim, who made us a loving and generous home. May Allah (s.w.t.) bless her in the company of His friends.

My late-mum, the efficient home-maker. She only rested when she died.
But I wonder if she is now just as efficient in the Hereafter as she was here,
...watering the roses and weeding the Eternal Garden of the eternal weeds. He he he
al fatiha

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Living With a Pregnant Woman - by Mikhail

"This pregnancy thing is going overboard."

My son was with me over the weekend. During which Mikhail practically never stopped speaking. There was always something for him to share with me. About his school, his friends, his computer games and his life generally. I always enjoy his company, and his interesting observation of the world. He he he.

My son is insightful. Even with chopsticks inside his nose.

His mother is pregnant, which is good news for Gina and her husband, Herman. But having a pregnant woman in the house does affect some necessary changes to one's daily life. So now Mika is expected to do some minor chores. One afternoon his mom asked him to set the table for lunch, and undoubtedly he was busy playing or reading, but being the good boy that he is he got up anyway to do the job. But Gina overheard his dissatisfaction as he mumbled under his breath, "This pregnancy thing is going overboard."

And it continues. "You know, Papa..." he said, "I really don't know if Mummy is lazy because she is lazy or because she is pregnant. Just now, she asked me to fetch the remote for her... but it was just a feet away from her!" And he was also alarmed by his mother's sudden lack of patience. "Mummy gets angry quicker than you Papa... and that is saying something."

Have a beautiful Monday, sunshine. It is raining outside, alhamdulillah... (God be praised). And that too is saying something. May Allah bless our children, the bright sparkle which constantly entertains us and challenges our attitude and beliefs.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

POSTURES IN PRAYERS. GOD IS GOOD TO ME - Pictures tell Stories

Going...

Going...

Barely keeping upright...

Going... (Ooh... I am so tired...)

Leaning back now... (Much better! This is more comfortable!)

And now... horizontal  (alhamdulillah...)

And finally... Bliss. (God is good to me)

Mikhail has been rather keen to visit the mosque for prayers of late. Heche says that he would be pleased to go wherever I go. So note to self: Go to good places and avoid not so good places.

In the song, 'We are the Champions' by Queen there is part that goes "...We are the champions... No time for losers... 'cause we are the champions of the world." Just before sleep time one night, Mika shared with me his disagreement with the song and that we cannot have any time for losers. And I agreed, after all if there are winners and champions, there are bound to be losers. And at some point in our lives we have lost and are losers ourselves. Thank God for God and His Prophet who always has time for us losers, then...

The pictures here was taken one early morning prayers at the mosque. Mikhail was resolute to 'see how things are in the mosque for dawn prayers...' So despite it being a school day, he got up at 5.30am (after some prompting) and zombie-like headed to the washroom to perform the pre-prayer ablutions (wuduq). When we arrived at the prayer hall, he first observed that there are not that many people there compared to maghrib (sunset) prayers. This is not surprising since the maghrib congregation is augmented by people who work around Bukit Damansara, who sometimes pray here before heading back home. But I guess Mikhail was most surprised by having to wait 20 minutes before the jemaah (congregational) prayers was actually started. This is partly because the Imam of the Mosque is waiting for more people to arrive. But by 6.25am the prayers began, much to the relief of Mika and myself, because I have to rush him back home for him to shower and dress for school. I normally drop him off at his school at about 7.00am, you see. 

I am not much of a dad. But I am trying to learn. And when my knowledge and my own habits fall far short of a good father (as it often does), I take some solace that even before he was born, I recognised this reality and asked for the succour of God and guide of His Most Beloved Muhammad (s.a.w.s.), the Companions and the Saints. Thus I recorded more than 9 years ago...

189. Ward Of The State Of Friends

Knowing himself unworthy,

The father,

In anxiety,

Declares the child

Ward of the State of Friends,

A pupil of Angels,

Before the child ever

Breathed his first.

And so far? Alhamdulillah... God has been good to me. And to Mikhail.

Have a beautiful Sabbath, sunshine. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Great Days Now, Great Days Ahead - Mika and his sampin

"... I knew I should have tied his sampin tighter..."

My nine-year old son, Mika, insists on wearing the full traditional Malay attire for prayers at the mosque. It is called the Baju Melayu (literally the Malay shirt) and consists of unicoloured pants and round-collared long-sleeved shirt. Around the waist would be tied a sampin (a traditional sash with with intricately woven designs) and topped off with the songkok (a black-coloured velvet headgear). 

Last time we went for maghrib prayers (evening / sunset), his sampin came loose before prayers even started. So I confidently called Mika, "Come here..." and tied it back around his waist. "Wow, Papa... you tied the sampin so fast! Bibik takes so long to do it!", he said to which I smiled contentedly, "Ah, it comes with experience, Mika..."

Soon the khatib called the congregation for prayers. Half-way through the first rakaat (first cycle of the three-cycle maghrib prayers) the sampin came gently undone and fell around Mika's ankles. 

He he he. So much for experience.

But he carried on praying unperturbed and later we had a great laugh about it. Chuckling and simpering impolitely in the mosque like two buddies.

These must be some of the greatest days of my life, I think.

May your days and nights be as wonderful, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

God bless the Invisible Thread! - fathers and mothers, sons and daughters...

The Invisible Thread

There is an invisible thread

Between your heart and your child's,

And every tremor, every passion and peace,

Every fear, hope, every ambition and wish

Passes like mercury between the two of you,

So think beautiful things and thoughts,

Reflect with candour and gratitude

For all that the Lord has wrought,

Above all, that which is your child,

And the invisible thread 

That is between the two

Of you.

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

I am off to Singapore again shortly for work. So I shall miss my Saturday with Mika, my 9-year old son.

It is weary sometimes, working apart and away from your children. Not being able to come home to them. But this is just a two day's delay. My esteem for those who have to work outstation or overseas for months (or even years!) on end without seeing their children cannot be over estimated.

And the love that such parents have for their children - to work in a foreign country just so they  can give their children a better life?

God bless all fathers and mothers, all sons and daughters!

And God bless the Invisible Thread!

Have a wonderful Friday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

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

101-Year Old Man, a Home Coming, an Uncle and Friendship

Friends

In the firmament of my sky,

In the questions and answers

As to who am I,

In the light of my day,

And in the rising of the Moon at night,

Verily, I know God chose my friends right,

No matter where we are, no matter what we do,

I know God bequeathed

Unto me my faithful,

Loyal friends,

...To overcome all tribulations,

To make good our place on this Earth,

As the Race of Adam and Eve,

As the Nation of Muhammad,

As a servant of God...

... He who dwells

In the infinite horizon

Of every man's heart!

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

My long standing friend, partner and founder of our law firm is leaving Kuala Lumpur. He is going home with his wife and three kids to Kuching, Sarawak (in the Island of Borneo) to devote his care and attention on his ailing father, Abang Bohan.

ABANG BOHAN. Abang Bohan is an exceptional man of 101 years, if Allah permits his coming birthday this year. He has 12 children and heaven knows how many grandchildren. As another exceptional (if somewhat awkward) tribute to Abang Bohan, is that he is probably the only human being, apart from my blessed late mother, and my dear auntie Sophia (Makndak) to have actually bathed me. But my mum and auntie bathed me when I was a little toddler, while Ariffin's father once bathed me 4 years ago. It was a spiritual shower of sorts, to cleanse me of some dodgy karma that has dogged my life up to then. In his nonagenarian frame (in his late 90s back then) was a light of knowledge and piety, and with some chalk, lime, water and a blunt butter knife, he administered me. He gave me some blessed oil, and a talisman of tin to arm myself, tied in a knot around my waist. For all these medicine and care, my love and respect for this ancient man is sincere and real. 

Mika. In frustrated tears trying to master cursive writing under the watchful
help of Herman. Later Mikhail complained to me, "Mummy was not
positive. She just laughed, Papa. Then she took a picture! But later
I went into her room, and I found a book. It was called
"Why Men Marry err... the bad 'b' word (Bitches, I think. he he he)"
Why did she buy the book, papa? Is it about her??"

UNCLE H. In an additional twist of fate, another man has come into my life, albeit indirectly through my ex-wife, Gina, and his name is Herman, her new husband. I had little doubt of his character even early on, but through my son Mikhail and his mum, I have heard nothing but good report about him over the years. He dots over my 9-year old son as if Mika is his own, checking on his internet usage, helping with his homework, ironing my son's school uniform and even cleaning his school shoes. And last weekend, when I had to miss my son's early birthday party (his birthday is actually this coming 31st January) as I had to go to Singapore for work, it was Herman who was running about getting the balloons, food and presents sorted. I have often asked Mika to call him Dad or Daddy, but Mika still insists on the formal prefix of 'Uncle'. Perhaps one day he will realize what a bargain he got when his mum married the 'Uncle'.

I want to share these stories with you, because I think it is important for me to spread a little cheer. We cannot really tell how God, in His Sublime Mercy may reward and bless our lives. Through a  centenarian or the new husband of your ex-spouse.

May Allah(s.w.t.) bless them always. And may the Prophet (s.a.w.s.) guide my friend Ariffin in his return to his hometown. He cannot imagine how much I shall miss him.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. 

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

THE SURGEON WHO IS PAID IN CHICKEN - and the Pen-Man, the Magic Songkok, Imam Mahdi and Jesus, Prince of Peace

The Pen-Man and the Surgeon who is paid in chicken. I was with Mikhail and told him that I saw the Pen-Man. The Pen-Man is an old Indian gentleman who pounds the pavement around my office area selling pens. A batch of five for RM10, which is about USD3. A couple of weeks ago while Mika and myself were having lunch, we saw him at a table near us. He looked tired, resting his feet while having a glass of iced-water. So, we bought a set of pen from him, and with a little prompting, Mika gave him RM10. "To have lunch." My son was sad you see, for everyone else were having lunch, but Pen-Man had to save his pennies, and was only quenching his thirst. He smiled and thanked Mika. So this time around, Mika asked me, "Was he just drinking iced-water again?" I replied that he wasn't drinking or eating anything. He was just resting at a table nearby. "Oh, that is so sad, Papa..." Mika commented and then resolved, "Papa, do you know what? I am going to work and be the best surgeon. Then I want to be paid in chicken. So I can feed poor people..."

Chicken Genocide. Recently Mikhail recounted to me an evil prayer. "Is there such a thing?" I asked, to which he replied, chuckling at my naivete, "Of course, Papa. I used to pray before that God would explode all the chicken in the world. Into a fryer. And make fried chicken." Then he paused, "Oh yes, but two chicken, one boy chicken and one girl chicken will be saved. So they can repopulate the earth."

Mika wearing the Songkok.

The Magic Songkok, Imam Mahdi and Jesus. My son also shared with me a bad dream he had. "Oh yes, Papa. I was so relieved  to wake up! It was weird, crazy dream." This was what Mikhail dreamt - "I dream that it was the end of the world, and a dinasour was chasing me. I threw pictures at the dinasour (no doubt, pictures of chickens) to distract it. I ran and ran and ran when suddenly out of a songkok (a black traditional Malay headgear) out popped Imam Mahdi and Jesus. But I didn't know it was them! They were giant, bearded and looked like hobos! I tried to hit them but I couldn't."

Imam Mahdi? Jesus? Dressed like hobos and popping out of a songkok?

Have a lovely Friday, sunshine. Listen to children. You would be surprised what comes out of their mouths!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

PS: Imam Mahdi is a descendant of the House of Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) prophesied to come before the end of time, about the same time as the Second Coming of Jesus. They are going to pair up in a Divine Tag Team and help sort things out... insyaAllah as how God plans it to be.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way