Eid Celebrations, Family and a Greedy Little Pig - oink! oink!

Coming to the end of Ramadhan and the Eidul Fitri celebrations on 1st of Syawal to mark one month of fasting by the Muslims, it is common for us to receive festive greetings via snail mail, Facebook, sms-es and WhatsApp (well, for us Android users at least). I have been a bit busy yesterday as we had a drove of wonderful, bright-eyed, brilliant and good-looking relatives come visit us on the first day (well, I have to be complimentary if I want them to come again next year... Or am I spreading the butter too thick?).

So I am finally able to catch my breath today, and have been typing my late replies. If you did not receive my reply because you never sent me an Eid Mubarak greetings (And by the way, why didn't you? *sad*), well here is my best reply sent out today -

Salams sunshine,... If you but knew me a bit better perhaps you would not like me, but if I knew a bit more of you I am sure to grow fonder of you. So my Salam and prayer for us this Eid is for God and His Prophet to veil my wickedness and to unveil your goodness that I might continue to be blessed with your love and companionship... alhamdulillah, God be praised! Madad ya Saideena Muhammad, madadul Haqq!

For those who came yesterday, thank you kindly for your company and smiles... It was wonderful. A note of thanks for my brother, Zahurein, for cooking up a mouth-watering Mee Rebus (a local noodle dish in beef, oxtail, shrimp, chilli and sweet potato broth). I am ashamed to confess here that I, a greedy little pig, had 4 servings.

He was THE host, but he had 4 servings! Shameless...

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

A Love Letter in Ramadhan - how shall I answer the Lord?

A Love Letter in Ramadhan

Lay your weary head on My names,

The Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful,

And dwell not in your folly and error,

Cast your line into the Sea of My Mercy,

And fish for the bounty that is Me,

And worry not of going hungry,

Close your eyes and listen to Me,

In the temples and in the churches,

In the synagogues and in the mosques,

High upon the hills and through the Mountain passes,

Deep in the forests, farms and meadows,

Wherever you go, there My blessings go,

Glory to Me, mercy for you,

Praise to Me, guidance for you,

Even before you were given life,

Before you first opened your eyes,

Verily, I cherished you and loved you,

And My own angels gathered around

Fascinated by My fascination for you,

And lo, they doubt My faith in you

And touched by the devil’s treachery,

They asked, ‘'Will you bring unto us

The nation of Adam that will bring

Strife and destruction?”

And when you were silent,

I spoke for you,

And when you could not answer,

Verily, I defended you and replied,

Saying unto My heavenly heralds,

“I am God, I know what ye knows not.”

And that is My love for humanity

Before a single child was ever born,

And that is My faith I declared

Before the first church was ever raised,

And that is My blessing for you

Before a single word of praise for Me

Was ever uttered by the children of Adam and Eve.

How I looked forward to your first breath of air,

How careful I gathered and plotted your birth,

Glory be! Glory unto Me! How I yearned for you,

Will you now not yearn for Me?

Will you now not love Me?

Will you now not even

Remember Me?

……………………………….

Ramadhan is coming to an end I am told. In the small bundle of greeting and festive cards we received in our home, one arrived rather late. It was a love letter.

I am sharing it with you today because perhaps you can help me write a decent reply. I am quite at lost for words right now. A rare thing, but it does happen once in a while.

I hope you are enjoying your very last day of Ramadhan. Come evening, the month of Syawal beckons us to another day of hope, praise and love unto the One God, and His beloved Prophet Muhammad Habibullah (pbuh).

See you there, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Mikhail, his Baju Melayus and the Cunning Bait of Beauty - picture tell stories

Sometimes I write and choose the photos to accompany the piece. On some days however, I post the photos and let the pictures choose the words. Like today...

Mikhail is 8 years old. That lime green baju melayu johor (traditional Malay attire)
is almost exactly one year old and he is already having trouble getting out of it.
He is wearing it because he just had his weekly lesson with his young Ustaz (religious
scholar who teaches kids to read Arabic script and the Al-Quran). The Ustaz is a kind and
soft-spoken young man, unlike the fearsome fire-breathing old Ustazs in my days. 

As I was writing last night, Mika came up for a chat. He saw I was online and
asked to borrow the laptop. He said he wanted to chat with Aqheel, his cousin. He
took the laptop away and told me not to spy on him. 

Later he found an old cardboard box. And like all children he wanted to see
if he can fit in. And he did. "Look, Papa! I can get into the box!" But he found getting
out of the box a greater problem, and I had to help him out. I guess that's what
parents are for, to help our kids out of tight spots that they inevitably find themselves in.
But a Dad's job is also to take embarrassing photos of our kids and post them online,
so before I helped him out of  his box I took a couple of shots for prosperity.
He just smiled wanly and bleated, "Papaaaaa!!!" 

I think this picture is absolutely priceless. 

But you know, he does have some nice photos of himself. His mom, Gina, forked up some hard-earned money to purchase him new baju melayus for this coming Eidul Fitri celebrations (1st day of the month of Syawal, marking the end of Ramadhan and fasting) and I think in the picture below he looks like a heart-breaker. But I recall having a conversation once with Mikhail and he confessed to me, "Papa... I am not good-looking at all." And I think that is the most cunning bait of beauty, when the person does not even notice the beauty in himself/herself. And I like that. I hope such sentiments will accompany Mikhail all through his life...

Have a lovely day, sunshine. Work is knocking on my door now and I gotta attend to it.

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

Syawal the Nursemaid and the Hairy Baby - contemplation of life's ups and down

1. I wonder

Ramadhan left, leaving me

In the cradle of Syawal,

And though pleased with

My new nursemaid,

I will miss my old one

And look forward

To see her again,

Next year.

While we are still in the blessed month of Syawal, I have been looking back at my prose, and in particular, the above poem recorded on the 1st day of Syawal in 2008.

EID 2008. I remember that year to be a particularly difficult year, the very first Eid that I was officially single. And it was also that same Eidul Fitri that I first waved Mikhail goodbye as he drove off with his mother and her family to Melaka, and I was left twiddling my fingers, wondering, "What the heck am I gonna do now?"

But it was also around that same time when the first unspoken emotions crept into my heart as to a possible new person in my life. That too I recorded as prose in coded words and double meanings, so that no one might know its true meaning. But back then I had very little hope.

EID 2011. So things have changed, this year Mikhail celebrated the first Eid with me and my family and on Syawal eve Heche sneaked into my house to sample my spaghetti.

Life is moving on, and I am looking at new pastures and new ambition. Things are not easy, but they are not impossible. And even if men are sometimes just big babies in need of nursemaids, we can take succour that above everyone else and above all things created, the Lord is keeping a kindly eye and ear upon all humanity, even us big babies!

And thank you, sunshine. For spending some quality time with us sinners today. May God bless you!

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Eidul Fitri Celebrations and my Spaghetti Bolognese

At 7pm, I began prepping the ingredients for the spaghetti bolognese
which is a traditional Malay dish for tomorrow's Eidul Fitri celebrations.
Just kidding. Wanted to be a bit different this year. I did not imagine
that I would actually end up using all that fresh tomatoes, tomato ketchup, tomato paste
and tomato puree. As it turned out, I did. Used about a kilo of minced meat.

I love my garlic and onion. I used two and a half whole cloves
of garlic. I suspect one of my relatives is a 'daywalker' vampire.
I hope to be proven wrong tomorrow.

Heche is my food taster, and she dropped by to test the spaghetti.
She said it was lovely and wondered if I actually had
Italian blood in my family. Okay, I made that last bit up.
Anyways, I am a firm believer in letting a sauce sit overnight.
So I am expecting the sauce to be even better tomorrow morning.
Keeping my fingers crossed!

While prepping the onions, garlic and capsicum, my brother and his family dropped by for some fireworks fun. Even my father came out bringing a packet of candles (which turned out to be aromatic candles!) and asked my brother to decorate our short driveway and gate with them. So right now, if you were to come by my house, it looks like a Hindu family's house celebrating Deepavali (The Festival of Light), which by the way, is also a national holiday here in Malaysia. And when you actually get out of your car, you can smell the strawberry infused candles, perfuming our small garden. I think it is hilarious. I am glad my dad is getting into the mood at his age of 77 years.

As I sent Heche back late tonight, I heard the takbir (The glorification and praise of God) in the night air, which is not familiar to me around midnight. I followed the takbir and it led me to a small mosque in the small suburbs of Sungei Penchala. I parked my car outside and listen. I was tired (and hungry), but contented. Soon after midnight, the congregation ended their takbir and I picked myself up from the pavement and drove home. This is how the takbir sounds like here in my hometown...

So here I am, sunshine. About to go to sleep on the 1st day of Syawal. I am hopeful tomorrow morning shall find you in good health and spirit. Wherever you are, however you are dressed, whatever holy books that you recite, I bid you, on behalf of God, the Prophet, His Companions, the Saints and all the Angels,  Eid Mubarak. And if you are anywhere near my house, drop in. The spaghetti will be awesome, I kid you not.

Pax Taufiqa.

I am Ramadhan, a Favoured Moon of God -Prose of Ramadhan Part 79

I am Ramadhan, a Favoured Moon of God

(Ramadhan Verses 43)

I love you,

But I must let you go.

You must leave me,

Though you shall

Find none better.

Everything and everyone

That you shall meet

Shall be a parable,

An analogy,

A memory

Of me.

I love you,

But I must let you go.

I love you in ways

You can never know.

And if you despair

Of your yearning

For me.

Do not worry,

For I love you still.

Everything and everyone

Can come to confound

Your memory of me.

And you shall come

To doubt what I

Say is true.

But you only need

To look inside,

And you shall

Find me in

You.

I am Ramadhan,

A Favoured Moon of God.

And like the Lord,

I too have a

Home in

You.

I am letting you go now,

And in a few short hours

You shall be with

My sister Moon

Of Syawal.

But in truth, I am always

With you.

For whatever the season,

God made me

Just for you,

And you were made

To fill my days and nights

With beautiful piety,

And the remembrance

Of the Truth.

We are both like mirrors, you and I.

And what beauty you see in me

I see it in you too.

This, I do believe is my last posting and prose of Ramadhan 2011. Upon a mild provocation by my friend, Longhair, the verses was recorded in the early morning of the last day of Ramadhan. For today shall end with the eve of Syawal and the beginning of the Eid celebrations. But it shall be a joyous occasion marked with a little sadness, for my friend, Ramadhan Kareem is leaving me. And though I am grateful to receive her sister moon, I cannot forget Ramadhan and her tender kindness.

God bless life, God bless love, God bless the runes that He has left in the setting of the sun, and the rising of a new moon, and how in each understanding, is a path to His Knowledge and All-Encompassing Love and Compassion. For all creatures.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

The Longest Goodbye for my Mother is my Longest Hello to God - Prose of Ramadhan Part 36

2. Died but not Dead I

It is six years,

And more than 2000 days

Since our mother passed on,

And to this day, her passing

Through the eaves of death

Is a matter for me to

Comprehend still.

How do you imagine his companions

Felt the day the Prophet passed on?

Poor Omar, feeling sick like a dog -

"Stop trippin’ me, man

He ain’t dead, stop trippin’ me, man

You are just being cruel, man…

In fact … I will CHOP OFF the head

Of the NEXT man who says that to me!"

2008. It was a solemn Syawal (the month following blessed Ramadhan) evening back in 2008, when the above prose was recorded. It is now almost 3 years since and still I am in the business of comprehending Mama's passing.

2002. My mother passed away in May of 2002, when she released her last breath with a prayer, "Dear Lord, shall You return the breath that I have just exhaled? You have been doing so for my past 67 years." To which God said, "No, my Arbayah, not this time. Your fight is over. I am proud of you. It is time to come home. To Me."

THE LONGEST GOODBYE. The instance of physical death is only one moment in time. But the spiritual passing of our beloved shall always be an endless horizon of moments. And to the furthest vista that my soul can see, my mother is still passing through me and my life. My mother's end is the longest goodbye for me. It makes me a little sad, to be honest with you. But it also makes me calm and contented as this rose which men call death slowly bloom one petal after another. Each petal a step towards understanding better the delicacy of God's love and the gravity of His Most Incredible concern for our spirit. So the longest goodbye for my mother is also my longest hello to God.

POOR OMAR. But I account for nothing, sunshine. I am simply an average sinner, and even this love I profess for my mother is nothing compared to the love the Companions of the Prophet had for him. When the Prophet also said farewell to his mortal coil those long years ago, the rumours spread like wildfire through Medina until it reached the ears of Umar the Magnificent Character. To put it mildly, dear Umar found it very difficult to believe the sad news. And how I do pity him in that moment... this Companion who would later become the 3rd Rightly Guided Caliph of all Islam.

MANY YEARS EARLIER IN MECCA. It is surely ironic and a fitting tale to recall that on the day Omar became the staunchest follower of Muhammad, he was actually on his way to kill the Prophet of God. "Trouble-maker!" Omar fumed, and thinking "I will rid Mecca of this pestilence once and for all!". How changed he was since that day. Love does that to people, you know. It changes you.

Today is sabbath, sunshine. Remember the Prophet and his beloved Omar. And remember our mothers too, always.

Pax Taufiqa.

My Mum & Mika (Ramadan & Syawal)

Ramadhan left, leaving me
In the cradle of Syawal,
And though pleased with
My new nursemaid,
I will miss my old one
And look forward
To see her again,
Next year.

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

Earlier today, I accompanied my aunt to visit her sister's grave. Her late sister had a wonderful zest for life, and though she has passed on, to me she is as real, or perhaps even more real than me. She was known to be kind and generous, tolerant and merciful. My son, Mikhail who accompanied us, dutifully helped to wipe her tombstone. She also happens to be my mother.

On this Eidul Fitri of 2010, my thoughts wander afar. Drifting in the sweet memory of my mum. Then, I look at my son, and my heart is filled with hope for the future which will be his promise.

May God bless your past and future, your parents and your children. For you and I, we are but a link between two golden chain.

Salams and Eid Mubarak!