THE LION, THE DESERT & THE RIVER OF TEARS - of songs, archery, friendship and the Seal of the Prophets

(Painting of "The Gypsy" by Henri Rousseau, 1897)

The Lion, the Desert & the River of Tears

A lion stood between me and my Love,
I permitted the lion to consume me,
That I may become the lion
And meet my Love
Who is ardently waiting for me...

A desert stood between me and my Love,

I cried and I cried and I cried

Until a mighty river rose from my tears,

I jumped in. and was borne safely

To my Love who was waiting for me,

Carried to Him in my river of tears...

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

This morning, I invited my friend, Mr. Ikhlas for coffee. I said to him, "I am practicing archery! And I have coffee and tea! Come!" Happily, he agreed. After half-an-hour there was still no sign of him or the ancient van that he often drives in. Then I received a call from Mr. Ikhlas communicating to me that he was stuck because Si-Merah (the Red One, which is the colour of his van) is uncooperative and is refusing to start. "Would you mind coming over and picking me up?" He inquired. 

So I stopped shooting and went to pick him up. Arriving shortly at my house, the Qasida Burda (an ancient hymn about God Almighty and His Prophet Muhammad saws) was playing, for I enjoy listening to the song while doing archery. Mr. Ikhlas's face lighted up hearing the ancient words wafting in the morning air. And so our morning turned, around music and life, family and friends, accompanied by my playlist which I impetuously titled as the Red Rose Garden playlist. I call it the Red Rose because all of the songs, which includes pop and rock ballad, in English and in my Malay language, recalls to me the beautiful personality and mercy of the Prophet Muhammad Habibullah (saws). And I often play it in my garden, ergo... the Red Rose Garden. He he he. 

In the course of our chit-chat, an Indonesian song started to play, entitled 'Sempurna' ('Perfect') by the Indonesian band, Andra & the Backbone. I said to Mr. Ikhlas... "This is a song describing the Prophet Muhammad... and our yearning for him." We sat quietly, listening to the haunting melody and loving lyrics, then I saw my dear old friend's eyes glistening with tears. This is the song.

"Oh you made me cry this morning, Taufiq!" Mr. Ikhlas said to me, as I drove him home later.

So you see, that is why I wrote of the Lion, the Desert and the River of Tears. Because the true way of Love is often glistening with pearl-like teardrops shining like stars in our mortal sky. But they are tears of happiness. And they hang over us like stars of hope. 

Keep the faith, sunshine!

-Notrumi, 17th April 2014

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

HAPPINESS & THE NEW YEAR 2014... an adventure at sea with Mr. Ikhlas

"It was happiness." said my old friend, Mr. Ikhlas, as he recounted a tale in his distant past. "I was about 17, I think, and our family headed for a fishing trip off the east coast, near Kuantan, Pahang. If I recall well, there was my grandfather and me, my two uncles, one auntie, and our family's driver who was also my good friend and confidante. The sea was calm, the sky was bright and blue with no hint of dark clouds in sight. Then, about noon the sea turned mean and high. Out little boat was tossing and turning helplessly before suddenly a giant wave overturned us and I was flung into the treacherous ocean.

He then paused before continuing, his brown eyes glinting in a sea-grey outer ring that I always found interesting. "I managed to grab hold of a floating plank and an empty water tank. I could not see anyone else although my friend managed to join me. Of my grandfather, auntie and two uncles there were no sight or sound, nothing but the constant rise and fall of the waves beneath a bright afternoon sun. Perfect day for fishing, I remember recalling, except that we are now two rather desperate men, being carried further and further into the vast South China Sea by the low tide. I divined this as I noticed the satellite dish on top the cliff near Sungai Karang (Karang river) slowly drop out of sight over the rising horizon of the sea. 

Unhappy though I was, I was grateful for my little pieces of wood and tank, which helped us to stay above water. I would have to last as long as I can, and the thought that the next day would be Friday, on which no fishermen would go out to sea, left me concerned about my mortality. Is this to be the end of me? To lighten myself, I considered taking off my trousers, which was hampering my movement and was not a little damn heavy. But to be indecently exposed? After all, I was not alone, my friend was still with me, gamely hanging on. It was then I began a conversation with God... 'Surely God, You would forgive me this little sin? After all, survival is also a duty in religion.' After a while, I felt confident that God wouldn't mind at all, and so I unbuttoned and dropped my trousers into the dark blue depth. But not before I checked my wallet, and carefully took out my identity card. This identification paper I then carefully secured in a knot tied at the bottom of my shirt. 'Well, at least people won't find it hard to identify my body if it comes to that.' I remember thinking.'

The day quickly turned into night, and despite our predicament, what I recall best of all was the night sky. For you see, there was no artificial light anywhere near us to spoil the magnificent beauty of the million of stars and constellations that dot the heavens. The celestial lamps were as bright and twinkling as they were millions of years ago and as I looked on, I felt privileged. Privileged and honoured. This, and many other thoughts I shared with God. 

Then, as if by plan, we noticed the lights. They were a bare glimmer in the far horizon, but they were unmistakably lights! We began to swim towards them, but now our journey made easier by the current of the rising sea, carrying my friend and I back to shore."

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

Happily, everyone made it alive. Either picked up or able to swim to safety. Such was the story related to me by Mr. Ikhlas (with a little poetic license on my side). The crux of his tale was that the maritime episode was probably the first ever occasion in which he really spoke to God. "And I have never stopped since. I talk to God all the time."

Today is the last day of 2013, sunshine. Did anything happen to you this year that availed you to conversations with God? Some unfortunate illness? Some pressing financial difficulties? Perhaps a marital upheaval that made you open up to God? It is funny (to me) that as Muslims we are suppose to already be in intimate congress with God Almighty at least five times a day. And yet troubles continue to dog our life, biting at our heels like many malevolent hounds... and in the process chasing us to Him. It is as if God is saying... "I want meaning when you say you need Me. I want passion when you say you love Me. I want true gratitude when you say you adore Me. And if you won't talk to Me, I can make you talk to me."

He he he.

I guess I don't have the answer. Perhaps if I was cast overboard like Mr. Ikhlas, I may find the answer. But maybe this form of oceanic intervention is not for everyone. "Do this to Taufiq?" an Angel might inquire God. "O' God, he will sink like a stone."

He he he.

Have a happy new year and may you find new fulfillment talking to God, sunshine. I am told He listens.  All the time.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

THE BEST WAY MIRRORS CAN BE BROKEN - an allergic reaction

Talking to Yourself

You are talking to yourself only,

As you walk and cast your reflection

Upon the mirror that is called the World.

All the good, all the bad,

All the pretty, all the ugly

And all the in between.

Is you.

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

Allergy. Everyone is helping. My hands don't look very nice presently. It is full of scabs and spots which appear to be caused by an allergy outbreak. The doctor has prescribed antibiotics and antihistamine which didn't really work. I also supplemented that with a Chinese herbal remedy (full of dried roots, barks, fruits and fruit skins of laichee and wintermelons) which I had to boil into a blackish brackish ointment to soak my hands in. It kinda helped to heal the open cuts but didn't really help with the actual allergy, and the spots kept coming out. After a week I went to see the doctor again and he stopped the antibiotics but continued with a stronger antihistamine and a gel to rub on the skin. Finally yesterday, Ani, my loyal clerk, gave me a strange jello made from sea weed. I have rubbed my hands twice, and I think my hands feel a little better. I am also taking probiotic supplement pills, as suggested by Mr. Ikhlas, which also seems to be helping. 

White gloves. Today Heche purchased for me a pair of white cotton gloves. I have to travel with Alex and Ariffin down to Singapore over the weekend for a massive signing appointment with buyers of a new condo development in southern tip of Johor. I would wear the gloves if my hands have not dramatically improved by then. Don't wanna scare the clientele. It is not infectious of course, but you understand...

Breaking the Mirror. To be honest with you, I was a bit frustrated over my allergy.. and my own mirror surrounded my thoughts and amplified my concern. But now I cannot ignore that it is sometimes our own maladies and sickness that brings out the best in people around us. Our family and friends, so curious and concerned with my present condition. And despite what the above prose says, this time I think there is no mirror there at all between me and my fair-wishing friends and kin. They are gentle caring creatures, and they broke through my mirror of frustration to give me hope, and insyaAllah, a cure.

And that is the best way mirrors can be broken. Through compassion.

...try this. It might help.

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE PAST IS THE CONDITION OF THE FUTURE - so how will we chart our destiny if we do not know how we got here?

"We are not famous as soldiers or warriors. Only as journeymen on a journey.
It is not the dagger that we brandish, only our faith, our ordinary
way of life, the shovel and our sweat that made
this land of the Malays blossom."

Why a contract is thick. Without breaking a sweat, 2012 is flying speedily into the past with only three days left for us to complete whatever fate has planned for us this year. Today, I have a few contracts to review, some opinions to draft and some letters to send. I guess I will also be starting on a due diligence on a bank loan. It doesn't sound very interesting, but it is actually. For behind every contract, every loan and court case are human beings and their passions and ambitions. The Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s) said that whatever agreement you may have, write them down. For we sometimes forget our promises, and the nuanced considerations and 'what ifs' that make up a human transaction. All that 'what ifs' and human nuances... those are the bits that make a legal contract thick. 

A family project. I met my friend Mr. Ikhlas, yesterday morning. And later we were joined by another friend, Abu Hussin. At the end of our extended conversation, Mr. Ikhlas agreed that we should head over to the Historical Society to find out whatever I can about my family's past and ancestors. A couple of my uncles started the project, but alas, they passed away before they could complete it. I think it is time the project is continued.

After all, how will we ever chart our future if we do not know how we got here in the first place?

Have a lovely Friday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

Mr. Ikhlas and the Tiger - when only a small fallen twig stands between you and death

"So there we were, walking through the virgin jungle, three friends", began Mr. Ikhlas - Young, foolish and unarmed in the jungles of Pahang, when suddenly I felt a great ominous presence. In fact all of us did. I looked at my friends and saw their faces wincing under the weight of some unseen power. Then one of my friends said, "Hey. The jungle is all quiet..." At that moment I saw, not very far from us, moving with feline grace through the sparse undergrowth, a large tiger. Then another. And finally a third. Three tigers were stalking us.

We were far from the nearest jungle road, so we had no choice but to walk on. As we trudge our frightened souls through the path, the palpable aura of three great cats stalking us made the air feel heavy with violent potential, as if at any moment there would be a flash of claws and fangs from the thickets. But nothing happened until we reached a small river. Then we decided to rest and pray. We could not see the tigers anymore and hoped that they were gone. The river itself was beautiful, with the green canopies of the tall trees by the riverbank spreading its green roof over the water, like a cathedral. We began our ritual ablution, washing ourselves prior to prayers. Then just like before, the crickets, frogs, birds and all living creatures fell deathly silent. Even the wind ceased to disturb the trees and branches. "Oh no. Not again." I remember thinking to myself. I was in the midst of washing my hands when I looked up and saw, just yards away across the shallow river, a tiger with its massive head crowned on top its muscular shoulder, crouching at the riverbank as it drank." 

 A refreshing little drink before lunch.
Saay... that fat one looks like mighty good eatin'...

But we carried on anyway, and at the nearby clearing began to pray. Perhaps this time with a little more earnestness and intensity, asking God to prevent us from becoming lunch for a big cat. For it was actually around lunch time that we were performing the Zuhur (noon prayers). Praying and beseeching for divine intervention done, we quickly gathered our stuff and resumed our walk. 

Our Walk. It is not too far now to the nearest kongsi (chinese settlement that often sprout at the forest's edge), but let me tell you that it felt like it was hundreds of miles away. "Why did we go into the jungle unarmed?" I asked myself, but I knew the answer. We were young. We were strong and sure-footed. We felt invincible. Well, all that sense of invincibility quickly evaporated as I noticed the very same tiger gaining ground to our rear, a bit to the right. Moving stealthily through the undergrowth, looking determined to get into action soon. Very, very soon. So it was with some relief when we saw the kongsi not too far away. But this time the many dogs kept by the Chinese men were quiet. Normally they would be yapping and barking like hell is about to break loose the moment they saw strangers. But this time, they were missing. No doubt skulking inside the nooks and corners of the kongsi as they sensed the coming presence of a hungry, hunting tiger.

"This cannot go on much further," my friend whispered. "The tiger's gonna jump us soon, otherwise it would be too near the kongsi." Then he furtively picked a fallen branch of the ground and continued, "I am going to break this branch in two. The moment I do that, we run like hell, okay?" Me and my other friend nodded nervously.

*Snap!* and we shot down the path like shit off a shovel. I glanced back just for a second, anticipating the yawning maw of the tiger, but instead saw it running in the opposite direction. We ran and ran until we reached a road that serviced the nearby palm oil plantation and quickly flagged it down. The driver gave us permission to hop on, and we immediately jumped into the back which was full of palm oil fruit bunches. It was uncomfortable sitting on the spiky bunches of palm kernels, but I could not have been happier if I was lazing on a luxurious Italian leather sofa.

"So what happened just then?" I asked my friend as I finally managed to catch my breath. He replied,"Oh, that little trick. You see, the tiger's sense of hearing is superb. And as it stalked us, its senses heighten even further, as every sinew and muscle of its body is coiling for the fatal spring on its prey, which just so happens to be us today. So if we timed the breaking of the branch just at the right time, the sudden explosion of noise (for it would appear that way to the tiger) would catch the tiger by surprise and it would take evasive measures, which would give us a short time to sprint away. Luckily the lorry came by just in the nick of time also."

"Wow. Does the trick work all the time?"

My friend ruefully smiled and said, "No, not all the time. We have a lot to be thankful for..." The three of us then broke into spontaneous (and nervous) laughter. 

Alhamdulillah.

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

I met Mr.Ikhlas over breakfast yesterday. There are other stories to share with you. But I loved the story about the tigers, so I thought it best to write about this first. I might add though that not all encounters with tigers can have such frightening consequences. Mr. Ikhlas recalls another occasion when he was walking down a jungle road, when suddenly a Papa tiger, a Mama tiger and little boy tiger strolled across, with nay a glance at Mr. Ikhlas. "They looked happy and full. They just ate." Said Mr. Ikhlas. So you see, sometimes life or death is simply about chancing someone before or after its mealtime. 

He he he.

Have a lovely Friday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way