Mikhail, Mathematics and his cousins - Pictures tell Stories

Mikhail'a cousins. From the left in gentle repose is Emina of Malay-Turkey stock.
Aaliya is an American here on holiday and comes from North Dakota.

She is here together with her 1+ sister, Jasmine. This time around they have decided
to bring their parents (Chad and Lin) along for the 23 hours flight from the cold of Bismarck, ND
to the hot and humidity of Kuala Lumpur.

I was a little curious why Mikhail was a bit slow in his mathematics when I
helped him in his homework. But it appears now that studying in the house is simply too
distracting. In his tuition class, Mika actually did decently. A little peer pressure is
useful sometimes. He came back very happy with his perfect score. "What are
you going to do with it?" he asked, as I looked at his answer sheets. "I will
blog it of course." I replied. Sorted.

I am looking at a vacant bungalow house lot abandoned by the owner. It doesn't
take long for nature to reclaim her own. You can still see a little of the perimeter wall.
I wonder why the owner did not go through with building the house. A little brook runs
down the hill slope just outside the property. This very green area is just 5 minutes from
one of the busiest suburb of Kuala Lumpur with its giant malls and shopping centres. 

To end this international posting is the marriage of this tall fella. He doesn't look
particularly native, and there is a reason. He is half Swedish. He speaks perfect Malay
which is rather astounding when I first met him more than a year ago. We were united
in our love for dance back then, so I am glad to see him this happy in connubial bliss.

No poetry today, sunshine. Just the poetry of life.

Pax Taufiqa.

A Man from Sweden and the Saints of India

Yesterday evening, I attended a meeting in a nearby hotel with an old client. Literally, he was old apart from having been with my firm since its inception in 2004. I was happy to see that his old Swede business partner was there. A man I have had the pleasure of making acquaintance a couple of times over the years. Shall we call him Ericsson?

Eric looked a little tired after traveling over 27 hours by car, train and plane to reach Kuala Lumpur from his hometown in Sweden. He too must be around my client’s age (about 67 perhaps), and was quietly working with his mobile office in the business lounge of the hotel. My client was late, so we chatted a bit.

I asked him about Sweden (“The economy is good. It is one of the strongest in the EU…”, pausing thoughtfully, “… for today. Tomorrow, who knows?”) and the sick states of Greece, Spain and Portugal. I do not know how, but our conversation drifted to his travels (he is a world traveler), and in one part he made this rather innocuous remark, “India is full of very rich and very, very poor people. The poor people live in the streets, and when I pass by them, I know that God do not exist”. He paused and looked at me, and I was wondering whether he expected me to reply or make some comment. But I didn’t. Instead I returned to our original topic and asked about Iceland. Later my client arrived and I left Eric to attend my client in a cosy private corner of the place.

After work I was exhausted, so I fell asleep early. 6 hours on, here I am - Awake and bright-eyed in the early hours of Saturday in a Mamak restaurant near my house. I was surrounded by foreign Chinese students having a late supper, and denizens of the night clubs drinking hot milky tea and eating roti canai before returning to their beds. I cannot go back to sleep because I keep recalling what Eric said. And what answer, if any, I could have given.

On the way here, I saw a sight which struck me. On the road was the lifeless body of a beautiful black kitten. It was probably run down a couple of hours earlier, perhaps when I was safe asleep in my bed. Does this also mean that God doesn’t exist?

It is easy to despair. It is a door that is always open for us to walk through. And witnessing the easy death of a beautiful cat, or the teeming hungry masses of humanity of India, despair appears the easiest path to accept. I can almost hear Despair inviting me. “Come in, Taufiq.” I hear it speaking to me. “There is no God. Otherwise I, Despair, would not exist.”

But I cannot. Not because I am a superman with some profound understanding of life. But I have seen with my own eyes the dogged determination of mankind to persevere no matter the hardship. To wake up in the morning, praising God, alhamdulillah, and to fall asleep, again thanking Him, alhamdulillah. And I have also heard the whispered oath of the caregivers – the Mother Theresas, the Gandhis, and the Mawlana Abul Kalam Azads of India… all who live for the sake of others, finding fulfillment and God Himself in caring for the sick, the needy and the homeless –

THE SELFISH SAINTS
I am a selfish person,
I cook for the hungry,
Because if I do not,
Then to me,
God ceases to exist.

I am a selfish person,
I build homes for orphans,
Because if I do not,
Then to me,
God ceases to exist.

I am a selfish person,
I give all my wealth away,
Because if I do not,
Then to me,
God ceases to exist.

I am a selfish person,
I attend to the lepers
And the dispossessed,
Because if I do not,
Then to me,
God ceases to exist.

And to be absent
From His Presence
Is to me,
The most painful lesson
That this life can offer.

God doesn’t exist in words, whether written or uttered. God is manifest in His Most Compassionate and Merciful attributes in the tireless working hands of the caregivers of this world. God bless Ericsson and all caregivers of this world. We owe them our humanity.

Have a charitable Sabbath, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa.

Are the Swedish in Heaven? I am going to sub-contract the design of my heavenly mansion to IKEA

LABOUR DAY. It's Labour Day weekend and a long holiday for you and the sinner! I bet there must be millions out there who are thinking..."Hmm, let us visit the Cathedral of Design" and getting into their cars, trains and buses, and heading to the nearest IKEA. What is it about the Swedes that they are so canny with their tinkering hands to turn a spigot or spatula into a work of art? Is it the food they eat? Or maybe the weather? - "Sven (they are all called Sven), it is cold again today. Let's stay indoors and design a table-mat that will take the retail world by storm!"

IKEA CATALOGUE. I mean, just take a look at their annual catalogue for goodness's sake! For me, it is a work of sublime creativity. So cosy, so pretty, both traditional and cool, and ever so subtly sexy in that non-threatening Swedish nanny kinda way. When the catalogue arrives at my house, I would grab it, go up to my room and lock the door, to spend quality intimate moments with my Swedish book of fantasies. The IKEA catalogue isn't just a retail propaganda, my friend, it's a dream-machine. A work of mass market genius.

IF I GET TO HEAVEN, I am going to sub-contract the design work for my heavenly mansion to the Swedes. "Will the Swedish be in heaven?", you ask? Based on IKEA alone, I expect them to be there alright. Hmm... but then again, they are also responsible for VOLVO and SAAB.

Let me get back to you on that.

Have a perfectly wonderful day, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa