DON'T BLINK! ...passengers waiting at the terminal of life

Don't Blink!

Don't mind me,

I am just passing through,

Don't mind me,

I am just passing by,

Don't save a seat for me,

Don't sign that freehold,

I am not stopping here forever,

Nothing will stop us from 

Growing old,

For I am just passing through,

A traveler in my life's winter,

All dressed to face the cold,

Waiting to drink the bitter,

A traveler passing by,

Suddenly out of the door,

If you but blink an eye

Here, in my life's winter... 

So don't think. my child,

Love and do not blink.

..................... 

It is futile to seek permanence in this reality. For this world is in truth a departure terminal. Undoubtedly, it is a beautiful place to be, with all sorts of distractions on offer, but we cannot deny that upon the instance of our birth, we already have our boarding pass for that return flight to our Creator.

I guess the apparent regularity of death in my life, among my friends, family members and my masters,, has turned my mind towards the inevitable question  - I hope my destination at the end of that not-to-be-delayed flight will be the same.

For I love them so, and I miss them so. And with them is where I want to be. I figure that you too have witnessed the passing of your loved ones, sunshine. And perhaps like me, you also now tend to look at the wares and products on offer in the terminal of this life with less attention and passion. Not because we love life less, no, it is not that at all...

It is only because life has an end, do we realise how precious it is. 

Thus by the infinite, do we comprehend the value of the finite...

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

UBAT (THE MEDICINE) - the remedy for bad manners, life and prayers...

Ubat

Ubat biadab

Ikutlah adab si-Abdi

Ubat si-hidup 

Ada dengan pesakit atau si-mati.

Ubat si-peminta

Hanya pada Si-Pemberi,

Medicine

The cure for bad manners

Is to follow the good manners of the Servant,

The cure for those living

Is with the dead or dying,

The remedy for the one asking

Is with The Only One giving,

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

Ubat biadab, ikutlah adab si-Abdi. The remedy for bad manners, which accounts for all the ills and sorrow of humanity is through good manners. For good manners should be the basis of our interaction with the world, from the people that loves us and the enemy that hates us, to the animals that we keep or is wild. Adab (good manners) in Islam encompasses the natural environment that nourishes us, how we organise our community, how we trade and live as neighbours. The very best adab rules even how we deal with inanimate things like rocks and sand, water and air - for there is nothing in this world that is not sustained by Allah (swt) and recites His Names and His praises. From the deep space of stars, galaxies and constellations, deep into the inner space between atoms, molecules and electrons - they all remember His Name and His Glory!

And there is no servant more steeped in servanthood to God and His Creation than Nabi Muhammad (saws), the first servant and prophet.

"I was a Prophet when Adam was between clay and water"

Ubat si-hidup ada dengan pesakit atau si-mati. My late mother (may Allah Almighty bless her soul) always took the time to visit the sick and the dying. Many years ago, our loyal gardener, Mr. Menon was injured in an accident and broke his leg. "When I woke up in the hospital, the first and only person I saw when I opened my eyes was your mother." So he recalled one morning as we chatted about my late mum. For my mother it was no-big-deal. It is a given thing, a natural order and manner that if whomever we know is injured, ill or dying, we must visit them. I wish I had such discipline and natural instinct. Because visitations to cemeteries, hospitals and the sick bed reminds us of our own transient state of health. For all the bad manners from which all ills and sorrows of humanity originates cannot happen until a man or a woman forgets their condition of being in utter need, love and mercy of God the Most Compassionate and Most Merciful.

And boy, do we need all the reminders we can get. So when your conscience is pricked, go and do not hesitate. Go to your friend at his sick bed or at the cemetery. Sickness or death is no impediment to the love and adab you may find there.

Ubat si-peminta hanya pada si-Pemberi. Whatever goodness we receive comes from the Giver, a.k.a. God Almighty. Oh, He may pick and choose the timing, the person, the condition and the form through which a goodness is given, but undoubtedly, for all believers, it is He who is the one and the only one giving. So we thank God all the time, for our parents and our siblings, for our kin and our friends, for the hospital treatment, for the house we are living in, for the car we are driving, and for the infinitesimal atoms and sub-atomic particles that (temporarily) cloth our spirit.

So, whatever and whenever we are asking for... only He can gives. Don't you agree, sunshine? 

So do not be shy with your asking. Ask God for God!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

-Notrumi Embun, 26th June 2014

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

LOVE ON STEROIDS - the non-linear nature of time in the kingdom of love

Who is Remembering Who?

If I had you near me now,

I would press my head

To your bosom,

I would stop thinking,

Stop worrying,

I would simply take in

With each soulful breath,

Your scent, your warmth,

And those words of assurance

That long have I waited to hear,

"Do not worry, I will always be here,

Just recall me and I will be near,

In fact, I would be there even before

Your first murmurs of melancholy for me

Strikes your despairing soul,

You must realise...

You are remembering me 

Because I am first

To remember

You."

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

Here, time is linear. When we are talking about our dearly departed who has passed on, we need to stop thinking in the normal way. For we are living in the material world that is linear - time moves on, we are born, we grow old then we die. 

Here, time ceases to be linear. But when we recall our beautiful mothers, our excellent fathers, our friends and kin who have all left us, we are trespassing into the spiritual world, though there is still breath in our bodies. And time is not linear at all here. It goes forward and backwards, it bounces about like a beach ball. It is like undisciplined electrons, whirling and turning according to our wilful purpose. 

You are dead. Don't you have anything better to do? So you see, I am thinking of my mother now, simply because she is thinking of me first. And I would say the same for my late brother, and all my many aunties and uncles, friends and cousins. So now you may be wondering about your late mum/dad/sis/bff - "You are all thinking of me, remembering me... surely there is something more beneficial for you to do in the Hereafter..."

Death is Love on Steroids. Well, the truth is simple and undeniable (well...  you can deny it if you want to be a spoilsport / a partypooper, he he he). The doorway of death does not extinguish love. Actually it augments love. It is love on steroids. And this world, this material world is literally pulsating with the hidden lines that love is drawing across our lives - making our days and nights better, richer and more meaningful.

Such things you may find in thinking of your God and your Prophet (saws). Whether you are contemplating alone or in the presence of your betters. For when it comes to love's power and the truth it represents... is there any comparison to Allah (swt) and His Love for Muhammad Habibullah (saws)?

So, if there is a soul you are longing to meet again, to hear from... he/she is there in the Divine Presence, waiting for you. And his/her longing for you precedes your longing for him/her. 

Love on Steroids. Like I said.

He he he.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

-Notrumi Embun, 17th June 2014

Hate has no place in Islam

Love all show the Way 

WHEN IGNORANCE IS A MERCY... grappling with death in prose

Grappling with Death
I saw Death walked through the door.
Did the nurses not see him?
As he came close to my friend
I grabbed him and held him tight.

"Do not hinder me." Death said.
"Were I come to you tonight, would you fight me?
Would you struggle to remain imprisoned in this world?"

I shook my head.

"Thus why do you stand between me and my duty?

"I have plans for us, he and I." I answered.

"But if you trade places now, would you want him 
To obstruct me in my duty?
Knowing that I am but a gatekeeper?
Knowing that I am only a servant at the threshold of the Lord?
That I am the necessary path to your Lord and His Beloved?"

"No."

Death came close to a smile as he can, and said.
"So be it. Now, let go of me. For I am not attending to him tonight.
My engagement is with the gentleman in the next bed.

You really ought not to be so emotional, Notrumi."

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

When Ignorance is a Mercy. Who knows when Death will come? People sometimes think it is a sword of doom, ever hanging over our heads, waiting to slice off our tenuous grip to life. It can be a car accident. It can be death in the battlefield, or perhaps choking on a peanut. From the profound, to the profane to the mundane, death comes to us in all sorts of guises.

But God desires to be known as the God of Mercy, not Doom. Certainly not for us human beings, after He has taken such trouble (though it is of course, no trouble at all for Him...) to create us in our skins, flesh and bones. How would it be for you, were you to know your exact moment of death? Let me tell you that for me it would be an oppressive knowledge to carry. I suspect it will drive many of us mad with paranoia and fear.

So do not fret nor fear your ignorance of your impending date with Azrail (as). Death is mercy, and the fact that you do not know when your lease on life expires is also a mercy.

And of course, the truth is not even the pen of Notrumi can hold back for even one nano-second his own time of death, much less that of his friend, however exalted or dear.  

Yet, such treasonous thoughts entered his mind last night. May Allah (swt) forgive me for even contemplating them. Happiness is only with you, ya Rabbi! Intimacy is only through Your Muhammad Habibullah (saws), Your own Sea of Intimacy for the poor humanity!

Hu Hu Hu.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

-Notrumi Embun, 6th June 2014

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

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

TRUE REALITY OF LOVE, FAITH & HOPE - where hearts asunder are made whole once again...

Somewhere... not far from us, I am sure Poone is waiting. Al-fatiha...

He Never Left, We Have Yet to Arrive.

What is "not here"

When "here" is not really here?

What is "has passed on"

When he has passed on

From the transient to the permanent?

What is death but a door,

To a promised meeting

Foretold long, long ago.

So what is the truth of our present condition?

Our departed friends and kin never really left us,

And we...?

We are the ones yet to arrive.

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

A Happy Gift on an Anniversary. I have been thinking a lot of my late brother, Saiful Bahri a.k.a. Abang Chik to me and Poone to his many devoted friends. A couple of days ago, on the Gregorian calendar date that marks the passing of almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibn Sultan Raja Azlan Muhibuddin Shah, I received an anonymous Whatsapp message. As it turned out, it was Pian, my friend and younger brother to my spirit brother, Ariffin, who also happens to be my partner in our law firm. Pian said that while browsing pictures in his phone, he happened to come across some pictures of Poone (I will refer to my brother that way, as most people reading this will most likely call him by the same traditional Malay nickname for Saiful. Yeah... don't ask me how "Saiful" becomes "Poone". It's a Malay thing) taken during their trip to the international horseback archery competition held in Amman, Jordan in 2012.

Poone standing on the far right, with my beloved Sarawakian companions of Umrah 2011
who are coincidentally my brother's companions for his Jordanian 2012 trip.
On the far left is Moses, completing the fellowship.

Poone with his namesake, Saiful Bahri and Ijan, with a couple of the
Royal Jordanian Calvary soldiers. My brother makes friends easily, just like
our late mother. I wish I have such a talent. 

Poone, resplendent in traditional Malay attire, the Baju Melayu. And there sitting
close to him is Ariffin. 

The Third Eye. I am tired of using my physical eyes. They often mislead me, making me see what I want to see, hiding many, many beautiful secrets and signs that Allah (swt) has left for us here, still stuck in this world. With three of the most gentlest people (My late mother, Ku Ash and Poone) I know now not visible to my eyes, I have acquired a habit of looking with my other eye. The third eye that is the spiritual heart which we all own. It is not out of faith or religion that I do so. I do it because I am yearning for something that is not available directly and physically in our plane of reality. Selfishly, I am yearning for those whom I have been separated from, wanting to feel their presence, thirsty for their kind words, their gentle smile and assuring embrace.

So I ask God Almighty, and His Beloved Muhammad (saws). I ask that my third eye may be opened for me to see, and to feel their presence. And sometimes, I do. In the dead of night all alone, or even in a crowded place. Their faces, their presence grow within me while this world and all its distractions recede into the background, barely a murmur in the true reality of Love, Faith and Hope.  

So you see... the prose is right all along. The deceased never really left us, we are the ones still yet to arrive.

The Boss... al fatiha...

May Allah bless our journey home. May His Muhammad Habibullah (saws) be our captain and master, and guide us safely to the Divine Presence where hearts asunder are made whole once again.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

FROM MORTAL TO IMMORTAL REALITY - the complete soul, the bridge and Adam's exile

I Have Come

I have come to lay to rest the lie,

I have come to bury the deception,

That there is any truth to you or I,

Nor any weight to this creation,

I have come to fish out pearls of heaven,

Deep in this infinite Mercy Ocean,

Trawling for signs of the Unique One,

More secret than a love potion,

More apparent than the rising Sun,

I have come bearing missives from heaven,

To you, to me, to anyone who would listen,

To remind us all of our final destination,

And why, in truth, 

Perhaps we have

Never left His 

Presence?

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

The Complete Soul. It is good to recall an interesting Hadith (oral tradition) of the Prophet Muhammad (saws), when he said words to the effect that... "When I die, I shall ask God to return to me my complete soul." It is also good to recall that learned scholars have acknowledged this important message, that the soul we hold directly in our earthly experience in our body that we wear, is not our complete soul. Only a smattering of rays of the light of our soul animates our mortal vessel. Substantially, we still remain in His Presence, no doubt besotted by God the all-Besotting One! No doubt so utterly captivated and devoted to God the all-Attractive One, the all-Captivating One, the all-Beautiful One and the One Whom we cannot bear to be separated from.

Adam's Exile. Of course, all this high-fallutin' transcendental reflection does not mean that we should all simply let waste our life here and wait to die and rejoin God and our complete soul. For we are still experiencing our journey through the hardship and happiness of this world, the sweet and sour fruit of Adam (as)'s exile. Reflection upon our immortal spirit, its connection to God Almighty, and the spiritual bridge between us and Allah (swt) that is the Prophet Muhammad (saws) makes this life all too precious to ignore. 

The Song of the Habibullah. So let us tread the earth of this world firmly and with great resolution. But let us be guided by the moral and spiritual compass that Allah the all-Loving has left in all of us... our heart and conscience. And in our heart, have no doubt that there is no music more enlightening, no song more true than the words and wisdom of God's own mercy to all the worlds, our beloved Nabi Muhammad Habibullah (saws).

Have a lovely Friday, sunshine...

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

HAPPY 50TH BIRTHDAY, POONE! ...The World of the Heart, Sibling Love and the Eternal Debt

When alive, Poone used to confide in his nephews that he shan't live to reach 50.
But to me, he has.

Happy Birthday, Poone! Today is my late brother Abang Chik's (Saiful Bahri, or Poone to his friends) birthday. I was reminded of this yesterday evening when my only living brother, Abang Ein (Mohamed Zahurein) mentioned it to me. Poone is 50 years old today. 

I guess the normal wording would be is Poone would be 50 years old today, if only he is still alive. For you see, my brother passed away one rainy evening on 14th September 2013. But I cannot bring myself to write the normal way about Poone. Because to me, he is still living. If not alive in this physical world, he is very much alive in my heart. And in God's beautiful way, the world of the heart trumps the physical world all the time. No contest, really.

Don't you agree, sunshine?

Formed, Formless in the Dictionary of Love

He was formless,

Then he was born and given form,

Then God wanted him back and

He became formless again...

But lo, I can feel him in my heart

And upon my lips and in my eyes,

Formed or formless he is my brother,

And there is no past tense

In the Dictionary of Love

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

Poone & Ein. My two brothers never really got on when Poone was alive. They had some similar tastes in music, but I think I would do neither of them any disservice if I said that both brothers had different passion and essence lighting their own separate destinies. Yesterday, Adam our nephew said, "You know... I wish my dad and Pak Poone was closer before..." I thought for awhile before replying, "But Adam, you and your dad washed his naked body before we prayed jenazah (funeral prayers) for Pak Poone. How much more intimate do you want your father to be with Pak Poone?" I think my nephew saw the logic of my reply. 

My brother, Abang Ein stepped up when Poone died and performed his brotherly duties. Which made me very happy. Because I am learning now that we often get frustrated, angry, annoyed and irritated by our close kin because they are our close kin. Had we not loved them so, we would not have cared and been so disturbed! He he he.

Don't you agree, sunshine?

A Sibling Love

May God bless our brothers and sisters,

No matter how we may feel about them,

For it is through love that we feel the sorrow today,

And it is through love that we will find happiness tomorrow!

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

I cannot tell you how much debt I owe to my brother Poone. He influenced and taught me so many things.

A Debt to a Brother

When I was stupid,

He brought me  good books,

When I was deaf,

He taught me beautiful music,

When I was impatient and angry

He showed me patience and mercy,

And when I was lost and needed guidance,

He took me to a Murshid,

To whom I swore the Bay'ah.

I shall be indebted to him

In so many ways

Till the day that I die,

On which day I hope to see him,

To say "I am sorry, I love you..."

And to rest my weary head on his shoulders and cry.

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

Sigh. Story of my life. And perhaps it is a story of your life too? Dearly departed(s) leaving us with a debt that we will never be able to repay. 

It is a good thing, it is a beautiful thing, but it also brings tears to your eyes sometimes. 

Don't you agree, sunshine?

Saiful Bahri bin Abdul Khalid aka Poone
al fatiha

wa min Allah at-taufiq

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