THE WINDOW DISPLAY OF THE SOUL... belief is not a destiny but a journey

The Window Display of the Soul

I am looking at myself,

Looking at the words

That I bedeck this almanac with,

Akin to a window-shop display

Of my thoughts that I found

Prose-like and pretty,

And I now wonder whether

These words truly

Represent me,

After some contemplation

The truth is deceptively easy,

That, no, these words are not me

But they are what I would like to be.

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

Salesmanship and self-delusion. We all have a certain level of salesmanship. I think it is inherent in most people, that we would like people to think of us in the best way possible. And indeed, it is true even for our own self knowledge.  We are our own shopkeeper, and we decorate the window-shop of our soul with pretensions of virtue, and we are also the customer of this products of self delusion. 

I am thinking of this because of the simple words; "I believe in God." And after some contemplation, I must admit that my level of belief in God rises and ebbs according to my tide of fortune. I would like to be constant and steady, but no. At an intellectual level, yes, but not on a moment-by-moment impassioned way, to live my life in the constant assurance of His existence and what He has promised humanity.  

Belief is not a destination but a journey. This in itself is not a bad thing, I guess. For I do believe that complete belief is reserved only for the Prophets of God, and the best and highest form of belief in God is in the conduct and manners of Muhammad Habibullah (saws), our most beloved and the last of the Prophets of God. So now, when I am thinking or talking, I am careful with the words, "I believe in God." Saying or thinking these words as honest as I can, and asking God to bring me closer to the completeness of belief, to the sweetest of His Truth, which is exemplified in the Prophet (saws). Phew... that is a big, cosmic level prayer. But even an infinite journey begins with a single step, yes?

Abang Shem. I would like to end this posting with a sad news of the passing of my beautiful cousin, Mohamed Zaid bin Zainal, known to me as Abang Shem. He passed away on Sunday morning. I will write of him when I am more calm and collected. May Allah (swt) accept him and bring him to the Divine Presence in the company of Nabi Muhammad (saws).

al fatiha

wa min Allah at-taufiq

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 

THE HOUSE OF A FRIEND IN JANDA BAIK... and the Reality that you choose, and that has chosen you

"It is so green here, Papa."

After 2 weeks of no-holiday-holiday (according to Mikhail), we finally managed to break the grip of endless tuitions (for him) and work (for myself) to escape the city and make our way up to Janda Baik, that idyllic little village nesting in the hills outside Kuala Lumpur.

Nothing to do but lie in bed with the laptop. But to be honest we just spent a short time
in the room before heading out to explore the resort.

There is a small balcony fronting the lake which is actually pool-sized. But the fishes
make a happy company, coming under the balcony hoping to be fed whenever you
venture out. Can they see us from down there, or do they have another sense
that alerts them to the presence of an obliging human?

The flowers are in full bloom up here in Janda Baik.
This giant yellomindus blimeyidontknowthenamus
is at least 3 inches long from stem to petal.

We headed to a nearby house of a Friend. Another friend is caretaker but he was not
at home. Mikhail tried to make friends with the many(many) cats of the house. But
he observed, "These village cats are different. They are not so friendly." 

We got lost looking for the family retreat of another friend, Sheik Feisal Bajrai. With
almost zero network in some parts of the village, it was difficult going. But next morning
we woke up early and found the house. The gate was shut, but Mika opened it and we happily
trespassed in. I walked around the back and found Feisal's mum and dad and a Singaporean
relative having early coffee. Uncle Bajrai invited us in, and they fed us fried rice.
This is what you call Hadramaut hospitality. He he he.

We brought our bow and arrows, so after breakfast we set for some serious play at archery.
For almost 2 hours, I reckoned, we shot arrows, together with Feisal's relations from
Temasek. Balqies, his daughter also joined in the fray. I am happy to say that the new
45 pounder bow excelled! Feisal showed me his 60 pounder whose strings I could
barely budge. What a beautiful morning in their 1.4 acre estate... lovely.

After the easy archery exercise, we bade our gratitude and farewell to the Bajrais
before heading back to the House of a Friend. And again, we missed our custodian
friend, Tutak. But we did not mind much. We sat around under the ancient house and
Mikhail made friends successfully this time with his cats. Nothing better than a little
bribe to seal a friendship, I always believe. He he he.

It seemed a sin not to stop by the streams that run through the village.
So on the way back we took a break by a nice bend of river and Mikhail played
in the shallows. Unfortunately the shorts he wore was not meant for such
aquatic fun and kept dropping down. He was mooning everyone there. And I
was constantly shouting to him without any effect, "Pull your pants up, Mika!!"

Well, that's my short record of our road trip, sunshine. My final observation is the many, many sightings of moths, butterflies and dragonflies through out the trip. They were everywhere, hovering and buzzing about, their wings flapping energetically in the breeze. With each flap of their wing, a dzikr (remembrance) of Allah's (swt) name can be heard, but even more, can be seen. You just need a little of that God-given imagination of yours to realise the manifestation of love that is welling up in your heart. And of course, if you have asked God for your firstborn to be a tasbih (rosary) to ever remind you of Him and His Beloved Muhammad (saws), it is no mere imagination. 

It is the Reality you choose, and the Reality that has chosen you.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

-Notrumi Embun, 12th June 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

COFFEE, COMPANY AND A HAPPY ROUND OF ARCHERY - 4 observations on traditional archery

"Dammit... Papa is taking another picture!"

Struggling with Father. I found it absolutely confounding why my 10 year old son, Mika, is so disturbed if I am better than him in archery. Given that we are both novices, perhaps my (temporary) ascendancy is contributed by the simple fact that I train more (there is no place for archery at his mom's place). Yet he seems positively insulted if I were to suggest ways to improve his posture and shooting. So I backed down, and let him find his way, and during moments of his exhilaration during archery, I would (very nonchalantly and without seeming to be 'instructing') throw in a word or two of useful observations.  

I reckon this son-father rivalry is partly because Mika is the only son from my former marriage with his mother. And with only a 6-month old half brother (Ian Emir) to contend with, I guess he finds me to be the only real challenge worthy of his steel. Oh dear.   

Surrender. I wanted to write about the archer's struggle to accept fate, wherever his/her arrow lands. But having started talking about my son, I am drawn to continue along the same line about surrender... For I can see now that Mikhail's willingness or otherwise to accept my suggestions are akin to him surrendering - i.e., submitting to the words of his father. And in a manner of speaking, 'freewill' should be adjusted here, because submission should come as natural as breathing. For that is the only way that I interpret Islam which of course, also means Submission or To Submit, to the will of God Almighty. For unlike me, there is no way God would be unfair and require submission from His servants, if such submission was not fitrah (natural) to our soul. That is the truth of our struggle to follow our heart and soul in love with Allah (swt), rather than the exhortations and persuasions of our ego and nafs (our base desires). 

Stopping the Noise. In archery I am also taught to quiet down and shut up. To silence (or at least to turn the volume down of) the noisy debate in our head, between our many headed ego (just like the hydra). You can hear their din because every miss or hit on the bulls eye draws a response - a sigh of disappointment or a gasp of hubris or simple mute indifference. I cannot deny that this is the most difficult thing to do. To treat success or failure as the illusions that they are, and to learn to surrender to the simple contentment and joy of being alive and doing the sunnah (traditions) archery of Nabi Muhammad Habibullah, the Beloved of God (saws). 

Win? Lose? Whaddaaat?? He he he. 

Blessing in Association. The way of Sunnah Archery is the way of blessing in an association. And I am saying this because I am naturally diffident. Not humble, mind you. I think it is a different personality trait because diffidence can (and in my case, is!) be attributed to some form of inferiority complex. On top of that, I also have a superiority complex (strange and contradictory, but true!), so I often find it hard to make and keep friends. My ego-spine is rigid and is excruciatingly painful for me to bend or unbend for someone.

But even with such character defects (which shouldn't be a surprise to you because, after all, this is the sinners' almanac), more people are coming by, sharing coffee and company, with a round of archery. Not just friends, but my own kin are pleased to join in the very visceral but deeply spiritual joy of traditional archery. I have come to meet and know very kind and generous people, skilled in the art of sunnah archery, tolerant and chivalrous. And strangely, some of them, I have in fact known for years.

I am grateful to my archery-mad friends, especially uberdervish Din Mahidin and Sheik Fuad Bajrai for handing me and Mika a pair of bow and arrows and saying, "Fancy a try?" It has been a compelling journey of a mere one and a half months, but most enlightening. Why, you get to even learn a bit about archery.

So, sunshine, how about it?... Fancy a try?

He he he.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

FORMLESS, FORMED, FORMLESS - a little reflection on traditional sunnah archery

The Form of Archery and Life 

(or Formless, Formed, Formless)

Formless, the intention is sparked

Like a light within a light,

The intention is formed 

As you pick the arrow

And set it upon the bowstring,

You raise the bow

Drawing the bowstring,

Then you aim and release the arrow,

Thus completing your intention,

Your intention returns to its formless state, 

The arrow is flying, whirling through the air

Landing at a place pre-destined an eternity ago,

Landing at a place only God will know where...

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

An old friend said to me, "You know, it is pointless to be disappointed when the arrow misses the target. And it is as pointless to rejoice when the arrows hits the bulls eye."

Eh?

"Why be torn between two polar extremes of emotions, when you can have a constant state of calm happiness?" He continued. "After all, the form of archery, the physical aspects of the sport, and the formless state being your intention to follow the sunnah archery of our beloved Prophet (saws) is already a blessing in itself!"

Really?

"Yes... really. And if you do not believe me, then ask the regiment of angel archers that is shooting arrows with you because you are honouring the traditions of the Habibullah (saws)..."

I am obsessed by an obsession. I don't know how long it will last, but I am so happy to see my brother, my son and all my nephews similarly captivated. 

So do be careful, sunshine. Don't pick up that bow and arrow if you do not want to spend hours and hours shooting arrows, fixing arrows, repairing and installing targets. And to be thrown into a circle of friends who are kind, generous, hilarious and exceedingly good-looking. May Allah bless their big hearts!

He he he.

Have a lovely day, 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

APPLES & ARCHERY... of life, love, parenting and cliches

93. Muhammad Mikhail

May he be a servant of God,

A lover of the Prophet,

A  friend of the Angels,

A mureed of the Masters,

A caretaker of the Traditions,

And spring of charity

To all who may come to him in need.

Somewhere far, far down the line,

Perhaps he can also call himself

A son of mine.

That is my prayer for my son.

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

Line of Precedence. Many years ago, when my son was only a baby, I recorded the verses. It sounds fine and properly humble, putting myself and my parental relationship with my Mikhail at the end of a virtuous and noble line beginning with God Almighty. Placing overall protection and education of my offspring upon the grace of God, the Prophet Muhammad (saws) and other divine and holy personages. 

Apples. But now I guess that the prose can be read from an entirely cynical point of view, and that is... I am running away from my responsibility as a father. I am saying this because Mikhail is going to be ten years old in a few weeks time, and to a large degree he has replicated some of my habits and attitude, the good and the not-so-good inclinations that make up my personality. You know the cliche... the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Do as I say and not as I do. So in Mikhail's 10th year and his father's 44th year, I am minded to do better this 2014 as a father. Because though I implicitly believe that my importance is so small in the greater scheme of things, but to my little child's eye, I am still the mirror by which he reads this world and lives his life. So on Saturday, I was resolved to follow him for his first traditional archery class, simply because of what he said to me...

"Papa, if archery is so important and a sunnah (tradition) of the Prophet, then why haven't you done it? And if you haven't done it, then why should I do it?!"

Cannot argue with that logic. So yesterday you would have found Mikhail, myself and Heche at the field adjacent to the local community hall. And it was great fun, though the hot Sun baked my brain.

He he he.

Have a beautiful Sunday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

GIVE YOUR SALAM (GREETINGS OF PEACE) EVEN TO YOUR ENEMY...

Dear You,

You have hurt me,

In your words and deeds,

So my mind turns to you,

To dig deep into you and

Find out why you say what you said

And do what you did...

Some dark past, a bitter history

To make you thus unkind to me?

And what did I uncover instead?

I peered into your diary

And saw you had your good days,

And you had your bad days,

And on some days, you wondered why God 

Even bothered waking you in the morning,

I saw your petty crimes and pretty lies,

And in between I saw your kindness 

And forgiveness residing still in your eyes,

So neither precious stones, silver nor gold

Did I find in the depth of your earth,

Rather, I found you had a soul...

Still recognizably human

Though tired and old,

And it is thus how I found you...

Not altogether good,

Not altogether a bad, 

And in finding a little of your soul,

I recognised in you, a little of me,

Just another wanderer

 Walking in from the cold...

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

The Veil of Separation Between Us. We have personal identities, separate and distinct from one another. There is the 'me' and the 'you', not to mention the 'us' and the 'them'. But this distinction is only true at the very most shallow end of our ocean of understanding. The truth is that human beings are much more porous and absorbent than we care to admit. We are like a sponge, absorbing our surroundings and the people we interact with.

Understanding Through Prosperity and Adversity. So we are asking Allah (swt) and His Prophet (saws) to bring us to favourable circumstances and in the company of favoured souls. But we are also asking God the Illuminating One to teach us humility and understanding if life in testing company and circumstances is to be our fate. For in both conditions of 'prosperity' and 'adversity' there is much to learn of our soul, and the mettle of our courage and patience.

Peace. So give salam (greetings of peace) even to your enemy(assuming you have one), for he holds within him an understanding of your own self. And truth be told, how you act with someone you disagree with can reveal more of you than the manner you act with someone you adore...

Do you not agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

BEING NOT WORTHY, AND BEING HAPPY WITH THAT...

My arwah brother Saiful (Poone) with saintly friends in Jordan

Not Worthy

You may think I am too praiseworthy of you,

But I saw the goodness in you that you try so hard to hide,

You may think I am too forgiving of you,

But I saw the humanity in you

And saw instead the errors in me,

You may think I am too helpful to you,

But I saw in you a light, and the light said, "Aid me to light him."

You may think all these of me,

But truth be told, 

I will never be worthy of you,

And it is this tale 

That will keep me company

As I grow old.

.......................... 

Cousins, Mika and Imran

I reckon there is always someone in our life who would fit the acclaim of "he / she of whom we are not worthy of". It could be your mother, your father, your sister, your school friend, your wife, your teacher, your minister or even your butcher. It is a humbling thought for me. And by God, do I have a lot to be humble about.

He he he.

All praises to God, alhamdulillah. But there is no harm, indeed I think it is a necessary avenue that we come to the all-praise worthy One, a.k.a God, through our estimation of people, simple everyday folks or giants of history, that are praiseworthy themselves. And of course that brings us knocking on the door of Muhammad Sayyidina Miftahur Rahmati (The Key of Mercy), His noble family, companions and saints that is to this day still peddling their wares, knocking in turn upon our hearts, and asking... "Let the Light in, turn on the Light..."

Beneath the quilt of my life, I am warmed by the people who have come into my life and left me, and those who are still here. I am a little tired, but I am not sleeping forever yet. Who knows when... but for now I am happy to share this Earth with you, sunshine. 

And I know I am blessed, for I will never be worthy of you. So the only way left for me is up, up, up! It is these thoughts that makes me feel so good of God, ya Ahad, ya Samad...

He he he.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

MY LOVE, MY GOD, MY LONELIEST - of God, the beggars and the destitute, and the circle of empathy that binds us all

My Love, My God, My Loneliest

I rejoice at the happiness of people,

Smiling like a fool,

Then God interjected and said,

"I want happiness for you too."

"But God..." I answered

"Forgive me, for my happiness is with You,

Many have betrayed their sense of loneliness,

But You stand out as the loneliest of all."

So here I am.

Let them enjoy their happiness...

In their marriages, trades, births and kisses,

My happiest time is my time with You,

My Love, My God, My Loneliest.

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

The Odd One Out. God is the odd one out. He says He is the One and Only. And there is nothing, nothing comparable or can be associated with Him. And He once said, "I was a hidden jewel and I wanted to be known."

I don't know if God can make it more plain and simple for us. He wants our company. Indeed, He created us that we might delight in His infinite facets as the hidden jewel. A jewel utterly unique and unlike any other on earth... That's God for you.

Our Community. But God also created us to be communal. And has created us to be a creature needing companionship. So we seek our family and friends, our lovers and spouses to share our life with. And this is our life.

If God wanted, He could have maintained a humanity of one race, creed and colour. But He has permitted the evolution of many races and creed, many nationalities and cultures. For what? To create conflict, bigotry and hubris? No... so that we might learn to understand one another, tolerate and love the things that makes us different, and the things that we all still share as humans... the need for love, security and prosperity.

And in the course of our life, if we do bump into a solitary figure, a lonely hermit living in the fringes of respectable society, I hope we will remember that he too shares a longing. A desire to be known and to not feel lonely. And in this way, God the Loneliest and Loveliest completes the circle of empathy that joins all of mankind together.

So do not turn away in disdain at the beggar, the alcoholic drifter, the street-walker peddling their weary wares. For somewhere in their hearts, there is God.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

GOOD ATTRACTS GOOD - now that you are not here...

Now That You Are Not Here

Dear gentle soul,

Now that you are gone,

I constantly pray for you,

As I know you are constantly praying for me,

Dear gentle soul,

You were not meant to be long here,

Beneath the eaves of this forest of trees,

And the tall roofs of the minaret spires,

Where are you walking now that you are not here?

Now that you have nothing left to fear?

Dear gentle soul,

The middle child of two beautiful souls,

Will you give my greetings to our mother,

Now that you are with her and not here?

Dear gentle soul,

You shall now never grow old,

And your love will never grow cold.

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

My late brother, Saiful Bahri, whom I call Abang Chik (meaning, literally older younger brother) and you call Poone would undoubtedly say to me, "Enough already laaa with the poems (us Malaysians like to say laaa at the end of everything to stress a point)". But if he took such an unexpected and discourteous exit from this world (well, God fated his passing, but I am still going to blame Poone), I think I deserve as much time as I want to write about him. Because, frankly, I won't be posting anything at all here in the Almanac if I am not writing about my dear brother.

Mak Ndak, my auntie sitting near the foot of Poone's grave.
Well, that's what I call her. My brother called her Mak, meaning mother, for
she cared for him when he was just a baby, as my parents
had to travel overseas for my father's further studies.

Last week, a very excellent friend of my brother called Boy (though he is not a boy anymore) dropped by the house to ask for directions to find Poone's grave in the cemetery. We did not talk for very long, but I was deeply touched by what he said. "You know..., if I get to heaven, I would wish my father and mother to be there, my wife, my children... and Poone."

From all these unnecessary accolades about my brother, I rather take it that my brother was a jolly good fellow. And I think in his all-too short life, Poone also collected a bunch of jolly good fellows as friends.

Good attracts Good. That's what I think. Don't you agree, sunshine?

Have a lovely Monday now.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way