AL FATIHA, AL FATIHA, AL-FATIHA - death and my guilty pleasures

The almarhum Sultan, at his son's zawiya in 2012, a month of two
after the passing of almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah.

Learning to Become Unlettered

I am a man of letters,

But when Love found me

Bereft of joy at the loss of a beloved,

I learn to become unlettered.

I learn to let Love write my life for me,

First, a little name was written...

"...Muhammad..."

Then a little phrase,

Next a sentence,

Then Love wrote for me

A whole paragraph...

Before the paragraph turned 

Into pages of paragraphs,

And finally concluding in

One small chapter of my life

That Angels call "One moment in

The life of Notrumi."

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

Seconds of Love in a Day. I actually thought of ending the prose with "... One day in the life of Notrumi". But I felt embarrassed to do so. Because the truth is, sunshine, I cannot recall any whole day that I have lived allowing Love to write me and finish my sentences and actions. I am afraid that in the 24 hours of my average day, there are only minutes, or perhaps only seconds when Love furnished complete my thoughts, my words and my deeds. And the rest 99% of my day? Well... no doubt I was motivated more by my hunger, my tiredness, my search for recognition, my submission to the aimless distractions that God has filled this world with.

Oh dear.

Guilty Pleasures. I was editing this post when my friend Moses and his wife came by to join me. I felt terribly shy that they might notice my unfinished writing. I felt like a bride in the bridal chamber, and someone had left the door ajar. So I minimised the page, lest Moses might see the guilty pleasure that I am taking with you...

His Joyous Light!

I have no true pleasure in this world,

All that I have felt, all that I can conceive,

All happiness, all joy, all such things that men like to treasure,

To me, they are all guilty pleasures...

For they were not created for me,

But in truth, true Love was written for him,

Muhammad Habibullah.

And I await my real happiness,

My real joy and delight

To be in his presence...

In His Joyous Light!

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

And I conclude this writing contemplating those whom Allah (swt) has given me the honour and pleasure to know and to know of - The Master, my Master and my Sultan, Sultan Azlan Muhibbuddin Shah ibni al-Marhum Sultan Yussuf Izzuddin Shah Ghafarullahu-Lah, Sultan of the royal state of Perak Darul Ridzuan, Malaysia... who left his physical body after a life well-lived just three days ago to return to the Almighty Sultan of sultans... 

al-fatiha al-fatiha al-fatiha

Oh sunshine, of all my guilty pleasures, perhaps they are my most guilty pleasure of all.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Notrumi Embun, 31st May 2014

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

THE ROSE, THE SOUL & THE WINDOW - Of death the beautiful door and love true and eternal...

The Rose, The Soul & the Window

The most beautiful rose

You may find in the cemetery,

Blooming in between the headstones

And loving engravings,

In between the worshipful epithet 

And a weeping widow, there

You may find a soul

And its window.

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

I have changed, I think. The idea of dying, that mortal door through which all men must pass, is a constant thought that rides through my mind like a merry-go-round. I guess it comes with middle age. He he he.

20th May 2002. It should be no wonder too, when the woman who gave birth to me has only just passed the 12th anniversary of her passing. Shedding her mortal skin to wear who-knows-what now... Indeed, Hu (He, meaning God) would know, I guess. He he he. I pray for her eternal peace and happiness, I do. Though I know I am not worthy to kiss her feet.  

30th March 2012. Then, some year later, my Shaykh Raja Ashman was released from his worldly burden, to go to a place where, according to his master, Mawlana Shaykh Nazim, he would bear witness upon real power! I wonder what that meant. Real power. But I am not too worried, for He who wields that power is the Source of all Power, a.k.a. God Almighty Himself. And He loves us, He does... 

God loves us with a longing you cannot know, 

More than you will love any child you bear, 

More than you will love any maiden you marry, 

More than you will ever love even the person

That you call "Me".

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

14th September 2013. Then last year, my elder brother, Saiful Bahri (known as Poone to his kin and friends) also returned to God and His Prophet. It was a surprising death (well, not really, in hindsight), but it was also good for him, looking in death far more beautiful to me (and many of our family and friends) than he was ever alive. It was as if upon death, God the Most Merciful, pulled the veil that hid my brother's true soul, that we might speculate a little upon his love, friendship and generosity. What a trick to pull at the end of his life! I will never forgive him for that. He he he.

7th May 2014. Finally, and most recently, our beloved Mawlana Shaykh Nazim of Lefke, Cyprus departed from this reality for the infinitely greater reality. Not to say that his attachment for this world was ever like us ordinary sinners. Drawn to Nabi Muhammad (saws), beloved to the saints and Companions of the Prophet, like a moth to a candle, he was ever whirling and living with love and mercy, carrying a heavy weight of servanthood. As my good buddy, Munim says... " I will not last a single day of Mawlana's life!". So now Mawlana himself is bearing witness to the real power! 

Well, we may only speculate what these phrases mean when spoken by our betters. But we can hope to be reunited with all of them in the pacific solace of God's Divine Presence. After all, why bother praying if you do not ask God for the best that He can give you?

He he he.

And for myself? My death? Will anyone blog about me?

And when I am dead and buried? 

Who will care for my passing? 

And who will bother to write about me? 

But I am not worried. 

I intend to write my own epithet in your heart, sunshine. 

Just remember me, and I will be there,

Busily scribbling!

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

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Notrumi Embun, 24th May 2014

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE OWNER OF GODLY GRACE - and the passing of a good servant

The Owner of the Godly Grace

I know there is a life after death,

Because our conversation has not ended,

Day in and day out, it is still the same,

I know there is love after death,

Because I can feel you looking to me,

Day in and day out, it is still the same,

I know there is a Prophethood after death,

Day in and day out, it is still the same,
This has been the Mawlana's constant refrain to me, 

I know there is a God after death,

For this true love cannot be contained in one short life,

Day in and day out, eternity rolls out,

And you are still the same to me,

Only that you look much, much better

And wherever you may be, it is a good place to be.

How I wish I will be there with you

When the Owner of Godly Grace

Sends His invitation,

To your side

Be my

Place.

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

On 7th of May 2014, as I was driving home from work, I received a WhatsApp message from my friend, Sheik Munim Bajrai. Although always praying for the best, I would lie if I said I did not anticipate the possibility. After all, Mawlana Shaykh Nazim was 92 years old, and has been in the ICU for ten days.

This would be a good place to explain who and what the Mawlana was and is. But where do I begin? For I am pretty sure I don't know him enough to say what ought to be said, nor describe what is often times, an indescribable feeling when you are drawn to his presence, whether physically or otherwise.

If you think I am confounded because to talk of the Mawlana is to enter some existentialist transcendental discourse about cosmic consciousness, then may I be permitted to correct you.

All that the Mawlana has ever showed to me and his many followers was love. Love, kindness, mercy and a guidance towards the best master of such love, kindness, mercy and guidance - that being the Seal of the Prophets, Sayyidina Muhammad (saws). And through the miraculous love and obedience of the Prophet (saws), towards the Endless Oceans of Mercy of Allah (swt).

Mawlana's teaching has not ended. Nor his loving concern for his naughty, mischievous mureeds (students). Death, just like when we were born from the womb of our beloved mother, is only the beginning...

And in particular, I came from the womb of this woman, my late mother.
And just as it happens, today marks the 12th year of her passing.
al fatiha...

And thank God, it is!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

- Notrumi , 20th  May 2014.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

WHEN A STORY BECOMES YOUR HISTORY... how belief transmutes a mere tale into your own personal past

They Found Me
I found them that night,

Nightingales without wings,

Oh how they sang for their king!

I found them that night,

Weaving love in the night air

With their enchanted words!

I found them that night,

Swaying to and fro in a conference of birds,

Swaying to and fro, all perched in many rows,

I found them that night,

Me, the beggarly crow,

An unfit, uninvited shadow in the assembly,

Or so my reason did quell me,

Until came this ancient whisper,

Assuring the broken sinner,

“You did not find us,

We found you,

Tired and torn

Weary and worn,

We found you unspoken for,

So we said unto the Prophet…

We will take him.

This was the trade we made,

Long, long, ago…

This was the oath we took from you,

Long, long ago…

This was the love promised,

Long, long ago…

As the nightingales sang and dance,

Whirling and swaying to and fro..."

These words were spoken long, long ago
How I wish I could remember...

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

When you think about it (and why not?), your past antecedents and your personal history make who you are now. The things you have done (or not done), the words you have spoken (or omitted to speak) in your past, these direct personal experiences have all conditioned your attitude towards God, mankind and the world. But there is also another contributor to your personality... 

Your belief.

In the Sufi school whose zawiya resides not far from my home, is the belief that its mureeds (pupils) were all chosen in some distant event before time began. In that story, all the Saints and Masters of the different tarikats (Sufi schools) were  invited by the Prophet Muhammad (saws) to lay claim upon their (future) mureeds. But from the multitude, some souls were left behind. A Saint and Master  (and in whose name the Sufi order takes after) stepped up, and basically said... "I will take these souls left behind. As none will take them, I shall."

I reckon that my friends who often frequents the zawiya, not only knows this story - rather they actually believe the story. And once you believe such a tale, it no longer remains merely a story. It becomes your own history. And the grace and gratitude, the humility and generosity that such history inspires would benefit your present thoughts, words and action. How fortunate are such people!

So let your own good stories become your history and illuminate your life. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

SHAYKHS SIGHTED AT MERCY OCEANS! - swimming at the risk of your ego...

The world, our world, is built on perception. So I reckon it is good that we perceive the world through the best lens available. And the best is the lens of the heart, for when you see with your heart, in which is enthroned the virtues of love, compassion, understanding, empathy and wisdom, you will see not a world of chaos. Instead, you will realise a world that is ringed by oceans upon oceans of the Most Merciful and Most Compassionate One, which you may call the Mercy Oceans. Indeed, that is the title of a book which goes highly recommended for the aspirants of the heart.

Who is the Master of the Mercy Oceans? Why, it is none other than the Most Beloved of Allah (s.w.t.) Himself, being our Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.). And who are the dwellers of the Mercy Oceans? It is the Prophets of God, the blessed family of Muhammad Habibullah (s.a.w.s.), his Companions (r.a.) and the Saints, being the souls of the blessed Friends of God, who are conveniently referred to as the Shaykhs or Mursheeds. 

Wow... The Mercy Oceans sounds really crowded! But the truth is the number of Shaykhs in residence, although more than commonly known, is actually rather small in comparison to the vast billions of humanity that have been born (and will be born). And yet, if you would but dip a tentative toe into its waters, I have no doubt that there is a true Shaykh swimming in the vicinity. It is not coincidental at all, in fact, it is a miracle of sorts... A fated meeting between the mureed (student) and the Mursheed / Shaykh (Master) long planned in the Divine Scheme of things.

Where is everybody, little Nemo?

There is nothing to fear in the Mercy Oceans, no sharks, barracudas or anything like that. But  as I said, there are Shaykhs loitering about, but they will only pose danger to your ego, not you. 

So why wait any longer, sunshine? The beach at the Mercy Oceans is open 24/7, 365 days of the year. And sinners are especially welcomed. And no prior swimming ability required.

Trust me. He he he.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

THE MIRACLE OF DEATH AND SAYYIDINA SA'ADULLAH(SAWS) - The Ramadan Story, Part 9

Good looking one, isn't he?
al fatiha

15. We need heroes and flags

We need heroes.

But the heroes need you

To remember them

As men of flesh and blood.

In this lies their

High station of spirit

And faith.

For they have the ability

To be themselves,

In form and in substance,

In what is apparent

And in what is hidden,

Seeing only the thin gloss of mortality

Upon God’s Own Looking Glass,

Between the Here and the Hereafter,

Between now, and what is promised

To you and me.

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

Ramadan, 2008. So recorded the sinner on this very same blessed month of Ramadan, five years ago in 2008. It was part of three prose that sought to clarify and illuminate the relationship between the apprentice and the master, between the mureed and the shaykh, between the seeker and the guru. 

14. Between the needy and the free

You may take me as your leader,

Your captain in the trenches,

Your class monitor.

…But in the consecration

Between the needy and the free,

The earth and the heavens,

And in what you see

As my form and body,

And what you cannot see,

Is the miracle of the Lord

Immeasurable in

His Divine

Creativity.

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

A moment in the Tariqat. Five years on, I think my thoughts on the Masters are still the same. But my belief that each one of us, however good or bad we are, will always need a Master - a hero to look to as a guide is perhaps even stronger now. And with the passing of my closest Master last year, almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibn Sultan Raja Azlan Shah, the lingering words about '...the thin gloss of mortality' and '...in what you see as my form and body, and what you cannot see," take on a deeper meaning. It would not have crossed my wildest imagination that only four years after writing the words I would bear witness to his passing.

Everyone, even Masters of the Path, has had to bear the passing
of someone close to them. al fatiha

The Miracle of Death. People often speak of the miracle of life. Of the very improbable sequence of events from the creation of the Universe which ultimately led to our own birth and life. But now that I am contemplating about this, I guess even death too, must also be part of that sequence of miracles. And truly I swear... it is the miracle of the Lord Immeasurable in His Divine Creativity.

And in this regard, the miracles have already embraced so many of my beloved kin and friends. In this we may count my dear loving mother who died in 2002, and my old buddy, Nakesh Singh, who passed away in 1986 at the young age of 16.

Mumsie at South England coast, 1995. al fatiha

So here we are then, sunshine. Just a traveler between birth and death - between a beginning and a homecoming brightly reflecting Allah Almighty's utterly magnificent manifestation of His Divine Mercy and Miraculous Love for all humanity.

So what really do we have to worry about now, save to always be in His pleasure? And it is toward this end that we thank our guide, and we give our ultimate thanks to the Guide of Guides, the Master of Masters, God's Own Manifest Pleasure, Muhammad Sayyidina Sa'adullah* (s.a.w.s.) (*The Joy of Allah). 

My master, Shaykh Raja (q.s.) may have left me here in this worldly plane. But I know with certainty, that death is not an address, but just a doorway. A threshold that we shall all pass over one day.

al fatiha

May Allah (s.w.t.) bless your day and your fasting tomorrow.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

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

Mercy Ocean, Sea of Compassion - The Prince Part 29

al-fatiha

Mercy Ocean, Sea of Compassion

Some men are born high in the mountains,

Kissed by the clouds that loom far above,

Some men are born near the ocean,

To the sounds of the surf and sea

That they all come to love,

Some men are born in the plains and the tundra

In the sweeping vistas of pasture, desert and ice,

While others are born close to the river,

Learning to hunt in the forest and the jungle

With a spear, arrow and quiver,

But however and whenever they are born,

To God's Mercy Ocean they shall all return,

Save for those blessed few,

Whom, though walking amongst us,

Never seemed to have left the Ocean,

Spreading the good word with kindness,

A stranger, beloved to me and you,

With gentle eyes, floating in a Sea of Compassion,
A prince, beloved to me and you.

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

Hi, sunshine. It is Monday morning. After an active weekend, it is back to work again. I am tired and a little heart-broken, but otherwise good! For I cannot complain when my life is complete with the saints, the saintly and us sinners!

The door of Fajr prayers (dawn) beckons. I can hear the voice of the muezzin, breaking the morning quiet, amid the familiar morning chorus of birds outside.  

Hope springs anew this morning. May God bless you and forgive me.

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

Remember, you are only a man - The Triumphalism of Man vs The Triumphalism of the Conscience

The Roman Triumph 

When a Roman general achieves 

Great success in the field of battle

He is awarded a Triumph,

A public parade of his soldiers and himself

Through the streets of Rome,

With their prisoners, slaves and booties of war.

A slave boy would stand behind him on the chariot

Holding aloft above his head the laurel wreath,

And whispering into his ears these words of caution,

"Remember, you are only a man..."

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

See. Even those ancient Romans understood well the dangers of over-weening pride and hubris. It would have paid Mankind well if we remember and follow the advice of the slave. Because when we take stock of the recent century of human 'progress' there has been many times when a little humility and humanity would have gone a long way in avoiding the pitfalls and cons of our less than perfect achievements. After all...

Triumphalism of Man

The Triumphalism of Architecture

Herald in the era of concrete monstrosity,

The Triumphalism of Brotherly Fraternity

Herald in the era of tyranny by the many,

The Triumphalism of Medicine

Herald in the era of over-drugged citizenry,

The Triumphalism of Psychology

Herald in the era of newer types of insanity,

The Triumphalism of Physics

Herald in the era of the Atom Bomb,

The Triumphalism of Modern Technology

Herald in the era of remote murders and killings,

The Triumphalism of Agro and Bio sciences

Herald in the era of global pharma-food companies,

The Triumphalism of Capitalism

Herald in the era of ostentatious consumerism,

The Triumphalism of Political Clerics

Herald in the era of the 'Islamic' republics,

The Triumphalism of Finance and the Economics

Herald in the era of thieves, blackmailers and sociopaths

Dressed in well-tailored suits and good intentions.

And lastly, the Triumphalism of the Information Age

Herald in the era of ignorance, anarchy and hate, 

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

I am not against progress, but like all things in this world, anything can be exaggerated and abused, until its end product becomes a corruption of the original intent.

We all have a slave, just like the mighty Roman commanders, standing behind us, ever whispering into our soul... 'Remember, you are only a man...' It is called our conscience. 

And it is the best among us, who turns around to the slave, and says... 'No, you stand in front. Where you lead, I shall follow.'

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Heat of Politics - there is no good without good manners...

No Good Without Good Manners

There is no good

Without good manners...

There is no success if you

Attain it without good manners,

Nor is there failure if you

Fail despite your good manners,

Good manners is the precondition

And the condition precedent of success,

Thus if you win or fall in this life,

Keep your adab to God and His Prophet,

To your family, to your friends, to all of humanity,

To all creation of God,

For above all

Only God knows best,

Most Merciful, Most Compassionate is He,

Who saw fit to teach us good manners

To refrain from the egoistic habit

Of allocating blame,

And naming names.

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

The political temperature in Malaysia is becoming feverish, in so far as we Malaysians want to get hot and bothered when the real temperature has become already warm these past few days. More heat? Forget it. 

And of  course, with the coming not-to-be-delayed-much-longer General Election, political parties on both sides of the parliamentary aisle have been throwing accusations and criticisms at each other. More heat? Forget it.

So enough of the allocation of blame. Enough with the naming of names, the revelation of secret documents, the scandals, the leaks, the paranoid hypotheses and the righteous indignation. More heat? Forget it.

I am a little tired today of this world's noises. I am going to look for a good book, a book about Adab (good manners). Anyways, the day is much too warm already for anything else. More heat? Forget it!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way   

Gathering of the Birds. Happy Birthday to the Prophet! Happy Birthday to You! - 12 Rabi ul Awwal

The Gathering of the Birds

Tired and listless,

Before arriving home

I wandered to the home

Of the nightingales,

And there I saw the gathering,

Not only of nightingales...

But I saw owls and falcons, 

Budgies and sparrows,

Ravens and eagles,

Crows and Mockingbirds,

And even an assortment

Of Ostriches and Dodos.

God bless the birds!

God bless them all 

Of whatever hue and colour,

Singing or silent,

Flying or earth bound,

Wise or foolish,

Beautiful or less so,

For it is the Twelth of Rabi ul Awwal,

And Mercy made manifest in Muhammad

Whose Love shall forever more flow!

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

It was a tiring day yesterday. But in the evening I dropped by the Naqshbandi Zawiya nearby. And there I saw the gathering of those strange Sufis. I could not stay long, but I did spend some time talking to them. It always stirs my curiosity to see such a mingling of people of different colours and races, vocation and age, nationality and culture, wealth and educational back ground, all drawn to this place of worship, as is happening in the whole Muslim world today, to celebrate the birthday of the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.), when God made His mercy for all creation manifest in the clearest sign possible.

For the Muslims, the birthday of the Prophet (s.a.w.s.), Beloved of God, Mercy to all the world(s), is intimately linked to their own. For naught is the reason for their lives, for each waking hour and sleep, in work or in play, in sadness or joy, were it not to be lived in their love and devotion for Muhammad (s.a.w.s), Prophet of God.

We have all our own birthdays. But our soul all share one birthday in that of Muhammad (s.a.w.s.). For it is not for nothing that he is also known as Abu Arwah (The Father of Souls).

So happy birthday, sunshine! Keep your smile on, always.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way