The Sea of Golden Memories - the infinite blessings of remembering

Set sail upon the Sea of Golden Memories, the path of love ordained
by God Himself for your past, your present and your future.

The Blessing of Remembering

Blessed is he that remembers...

Remembers his past, his parents and ancestors,

Remembers his future, his children and lineage,

Remembers such memories before the memories are made,

Remembering that God knows the beginning and the ending,

And that God has planned it all for him 

In His perfect planning,

Blessed is he that remembers...

Remembers his prophet and his living history,

Remembers his place in the Nation of the Nabee,

Remembers the love promised by God Almighty,

Who has forbidden upon Himself to forget nor be unjust,

Golden memories to remember forever,

Never to rot nor turn to rust.

Blessed is he that remembers...

That in remembrance of both past and future,

He dons the garb of the servant,

That he may address this very moment, this present,

As both the servant, and the master.

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

I am quite forgetful. Sometimes unintentionally, and at other times, there is undoubtedly a hint of pre-meditated forgetfulness - My road tax has expired? Gee... I must have not realised it. I didn't file in my taxes? Honestly, I am such a dodo head!

And let us be honest here, it is not merely these worldly matters that I am forgetful of. In my remembrance of God, I can also be very forgetful. Neglecting the golden memories, distracted by this world, and above all, distracted by the God-awful noise my ego often makes in the hall of my consciousness. So my chances of being a good servant (let us not even attempt to calculate the possibility of being a master) is quite small. Insignificantly small. It would take some form of miracle to get me out of my Hole of Forgetfulness.

Remembering can be beautiful,
inspiring and a pleasure
indescribable in
words. 

Happily, I am assured by two truths - Firstly, that God made us to be forgetful, clumsy and often neglectful, that we may, in times of realisation of our utter helplessness, turn to Him for forgiveness. For God Himself has said that He made us to forget and to sin, that we may turn to Him seeking mercy, that His attributes of ar-Rahman (the Most Compassionate One) and ar-Rahim (the Most Forgiving One) is exalted in this world.

Secondly, the form of miracle blessed unto humanity (and all the world(s)) in this End of Time has indeed appeared in the form of Muhammad Habibullah (s.a.w.) - the Guiding Lantern for all creation, held by the Hand of God Himself, shining the straight and safe path for us to follow. Lo, how beautiful does the Nur of Muhammad (Light of Muhammad) shines. To light the darkest corner of our vanity, to dispel the blackest mist of our hubris - to bring Truth which is Beauty by any other name, into our hearts - that being Allah s.w.t.

Dzikrullah. As for this old sinner, where am I in this fascinating spiritual station of dzikrullah (Remembrance of God)? I am afraid that I am at a mean low stage - somewhere in the state of trying to remember that I should try to remember these Golden Memories.

But thankfully, God is Most Forgiving of his weakest of servants!

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

By the Perak River with Tok Temong - The Prince Part 26

As I mentioned on Saturday, over the weekend I was in Kuala Kangsar, Perak. I was there with Mikhail on a roadtrip ("Living life on the road!", my 9 year-old son says). We left Kuala Lumpur at 8am and was chased all the way up the North-South Highway by a torrential downpour of epic proportions. There was a few hairy moments as we passed by coach buses and heavy lorries trundling up the road. "I don't want to die, God! I have not gotten enough pahala (good merits) yet!!!" protested Mika as the car slightly aqua-planed across a puddle of water on the road. Don't get me wrong, the highway is a well built construct and water drains well off it. But as I said, the rain was epic. 

We were coming up north to visit the final resting place of al-Marhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibni Sultan Azlan Muhibbudin Shah. But we are also visiting the maqam (tomb / grave) of Tok Temong, the legendary and real female saint of Perak. Her maqam rests on a quiet plot by the edge of the Perak River, and on the Saturday, Mika and myself managed to visit her first. Below are some pictures we took on the first day of our trip. Oops, I mean road trip. Sorry Mika. He he he.

My directions to the maqam of Tok Temong is sketchy at best. From some online
searches I managed to find the village of Kampung Temong Hilir about 10 minutes drive
from the royal town of Kuala Kangsar, the seat of the Throne of Perak. I also found online
a brief direction telling me to find the mosque in the village and head up another 100 metres
or so. And then there would be a small lane on the right. I saw one and hoping I found
the right place I headed down the quiet kampung road. There was only a few houses.
The road was still wet with the earlier downpour as my son and me slowly drove
through the thick undergrowth and tall trees. Somehow, the place felt right.

We found her alright, but I was a little disappointed to find that the maqam was fenced
and the gate was locked. But there was a small sign giving the cellphone number of the
caretaker. I called Abang Mus (brother Mus) and he said to hold for a bit as he would come.
Less than five minutes later he arrived in a small motorcycle, a dark-skinned gentleman of
41 years of age, a thin figure with an easy smile. He let us into the maqam.

This is a brief signage put up by the Museum Department. If I may translate it,
it reads, "Tok Temong was the (female) ruler of the Temong district before the rule
of Sultan Muzaffar Shah I (1528-1549). On the day of his coronation, His Majesty
was presented by her with a 'geliga embun' which became, to this day, one of the
royal coronation instrument of Perak. She was also responsible for granting
the rule of Inner Perak to the  present Perak state government.
- This maqam was built by the Museum Department in 1976."

Abang Mus later invited us to the riverside which was at the end of a long
steep concrete steps. Mika immediately rushed down.

At the riverside there is a small shelter built of wood and bamboo. There is
also a small rickety old jetty which juts out into the mighty Perak river. At the end of
the short jetty were two medium-sized stones rising above the waters. The two stones are
an important location for one of the royal coronation ceremonies of a new Sultan of Perak.
Tradition tells us that the two stones were originally one stone, but was broken in two by
an earlier Sultan (Sultan Mansor, I think) who later vanished (ghaib)
and was never to be seen again.

Abang Mus. In the background is Mikhail, beating a hasty retreat
after slipping and falling down. No, he wasn't hurt, he just hates
getting his jeans wet and dirty. Poor fella.

We had to postpone the trip to Ku Ash's maqam to the next day. While we rested
in Ipoh, Mika complained about his new Crocs that his mum bought him. "Yes, Papa...
it is almost pink!" he complained. "And it is the same size as Mummy's!" he paused
before continuing, "I bet Mummy bought it so that she can borrow it! I wish Uncle
Herman (Mika's stepdad) was doing the shopping! He wouldn't have got me this colour!!"

Well, that's it for the first day, sunshine. Sunday would be even better. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Prince. The link to this post has been uploaded to The Prince Page, which contains all previous postings relating to al-Marhum Shaykh Raja Ashman. You can access the page by clicking here.

Celestial History, The Landlady and The Kaaba

23. Celestial History

One day,

You too will play

A small part of a parable.

So play your part well

In the unmasking

Of the Celestial History.

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

Five days from now, five years from now, why maybe even five centuries from now (Good luck with that, the way we are abusing the planet), people may be looking back and reading about what we did or did not do as part of mankind's amazing history. So in everything that we do, we should remember that at some point in time in the near or distant future, someone is gonna be reading and auditing us. Gulp.

2. History and My Landlady

Without history,

Without stories,

What are religious canons

But house-rules whose boarders

Take illicit pleasure

In disobeying.

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

For a boy his age, Mikhail's head is rather big. I am hoping that
it must be full of something. Brains, I hope. Actually, I kinda take that
for granted and I try to treat his mind with respect. Stupid, he ain't.

You need history to give the flesh to the bones of religious laws. You cannot just be laying it on thick like butter on young kids, and expect them to obey. For they are hormonally and chemically constructed to test the boundaries of their parents' beliefs and dogmas. It is my own personal preference, but I find 'Sufi-esque' spiritual books to be much more humane and approachable, because they tend to treat the personalities of the past not as two-dimensional whatsits, but real genuine human beings with subtle nuances to their individual characters. And I think children appreciate this and can relate better. Because truth be told, they are far smarter than adults give them credit for.

Old picture of the Holy Kaaba and Mecca. The old townhouses, shops and
alleyways are now gone I am told. Some people simply have absolutely no respect
for history and sensible aesthetics. The famous new Clock Tower? A loathsome edifice.
I think that if you wanna stick God's Name on something at least make the structure
beautiful and harmonious with the surroundings and history.

1. If The Kaaba …

If the Kaaba is a diamond,

The defilers of maqams are conspiring to pry off the gemstones

That dot her ornate setting,

If the Kaaba is life,

The defilers of maqams are conspiring to choke her breath,

If the Kaaba is the sun,

The defilers of maqams are conspiring to eclipse her moons,

If the Kaaba is justice,

The defilers of maqams are conspiring to conceal her mercy,

If the Kaaba is the universe,

The defilers of maqams are conspiring to rewrite her history,

If the Kaaba is a writer,

The defilers of maqams are conspiring to be her censors,

If the Kaaba is Rapunzel,

The defilers of maqams are conspiring to cut off her golden tresses.

That is want they want.

But who can they harm but themselves?

And what can they defile but their own name?

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

Of course, what is history is open to several interpretations. So choose the books you read, and the person you follow well. Unless of course you are one of those fuddy-duddy woolly-headed Sufi sheep that bleats on and on about love and mercy. Then you have no choice really. For like rain (and I know I have about used this phrase to death), love simply happens. You do not know how the Ocean of Mercy carried you to deposit you on some Shore of Love. One day, you simply woke up from your earthly arrogance, opening your eyes and feeling the sand tickling between your toes, your soul sighs and goes, "Oh Wow."

Have a woolly day, sunshine. See you soon at the beach.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Servanthood, the highest spiritual station

12. I am a servant

I am a servant,

I have no possessions,

And wealth and faith is nothing

But gentle streamlets that course

Between my fingers.

So what can I ever, ever lose?

If you do not wish to lose, if you desire the clear victory, then there is no better station that is offered in the Universe than the station of servanthood. Servanthood in its most complete sense of the word - a servant to God, a servant to Man and Djinn, a servant to the past, present and future, a servant to all created things, living and non-sentients.

The vacancies for servanthood are always open, and it is never fully filled. For many people are deceived by power, wealth and above all, pride. And there are those, like myself, who can understand the value of servanthood, but find it a difficult proposition. For it is a poison chalice to our ego, and we are often subservient to our ego, which makes it nigh impossible to attain servanthood.

The journey to servanthood is a life journey. For such is the challenge. Do not give up, sunshine. For if you would give up, what hope would there be for a sinner like me? Come, let us walk together. Servanthood is waiting. We just need to get there...

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Where Art Thee? - Veneration of Muhammad

Where Art Thee?
I came to your City, to your Mosque
And stood before your Maqam, o' Prophet!
And I said to your Maqam...

"People tell me Muhammad
Resides within you, and
I nod my head in agreement.
But deep in my conscience
I ask myself -
How can Muhammad be contained
Within the corners of his Maqam
When all of Creation itself
Expands and contracts with
The beating of his eternal heart?"

So I ask you now, o’ Prophet,
Where art thee?

First you are conscious a little of the Prophet's history. Then you are conscious a little of his beautiful habits and traditions. Then you become conscious a little of his presence, upon which time you lose consciousness of yourself, and see all of Creation as how God sees it, through the Mercy of Muhammad. These are beautiful thoughts fit for those who seek beauty and mercy. It is not for those who seek hate and envy, for to each, we shall find what we crave for. Thus, may God guide your hearts, in whatever faith you cloak yourself in, to seek goodness and mercy, always.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Thoughts in the Tariqas - Train rides are not about the stations, but the journey itself.

121. Waiting for a train that will never arrive

The different nuances of the tariqas

Is nothing but different stations

Along the One True Path.

Lo, be warned not to be besotted

By the stations, lest you are

Left in a station, forever waiting

For the train that will

Never arrive.

Know that your Masters are

Not infatuated by the train terminals,

For they know the true reality

Of train travel, and they are

Not swayed in their attention

By the stations that dot

The railway line.

Look! Look closely at

The ticket you are holding,

Don’t you see?

There is no last station

To end your journey.

Hehehe.

How blessed are you.

How blessed are you and me.

Amongst those seekers on the path (tariqa) of enlightenment, much is said about spiritual stations (maqams). But they never actually tell you what is in the stations, only that if you are in one station, the only next action suitable for you is to go to the next station. There are quite a few tariqas out there, I am sure you can google them and find out.

There is certainly some attraction when you are in a spiritual place. A heightened sense of empathy and certainty - empathy for the human race, and certainty in your faith. But however beautiful the view is here, after a while you KNOW life must go on, and YOU must go on. You become restless and ask God for further guidance.

Life is about choice and destiny, yes? And in this journey of knowledge of yourself and of God, perhaps there is indeed no end. No full stop for the enquiring soul, who is constantly yearning for understanding of a God whose delightful clues constantly draws you one step further, to one more station, one after the other.

May you find your path unending in Beauty, Love and Mercy, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa

The Siths to the Sufis - The Bombing of Sufi Shrines

GOOGLING. Just from a 3 minutes googling about 'Sufi Shrine Bombing Pakistan', the following news were found...

"25th October 2010 (BBC). Six killed in the bombing of a Sufi shrine in Punjab province of Pakistan.
3rd April 2011 (CNN). A suicide bombing at a Sufi shrine in central Pakistan's Punjab province on Sunday killed at least 41 people and wounded more than 100 others, police said.
July 2 2010 (Bloomberg) -- Pakistan’s death toll in yesterday’s twin suicide attacks on the shrine of a Sufi saint in the eastern city of Lahore rose to 41. At least 175 people were injured. The first bombing took place at 11:20 p.m. in the basement of the tomb, an area reserved for ablutions, and the second bomb exploded minutes later in the main prayer area which was crowded with worshippers who gather every Thursday for special rituals, Khusro Pervez, Lahore’s commissioner, told reporters. The shrine of Persian Sufi saint Syed Abul Hassan Bin Usman Bin Ali Al- Hajweri is also known as Data Gunj Baksh."

WHY ARE YOU SILENT? When these Muslim bandits killed hundreds of Muslims in these shrine bombings where were the protests and condemnations from the elders and some so-called Ulamaks (Islamic scholars) and politicians? But when one lunatic (Osama ben Laden) is killed, the hue and cry from the bearded brigade were overwhelming. This behaviour and silence (which is of course equivalent to tacit approval) disgusts me to the core. And I am a sinner. A stupid know-nothing ignoramus. These people are smart with degrees from Universities. Why are they doing nothing?

26. Dissipated and Embarrassed II
The deniers and naysayers
Are herding the people
To a corner of reality
Meant only for animals!

As animals have no cemeteries,
And no thought for their passed kin,
So too are these despicable teachers
Teaching people to behave
Like animals,
And forget their ties
To their ancestors,
And to cut the chain of love
That binds those who appear alive
To those who appear dead!

In their way from
The single point of singularity,
They are exhibiting gross manners!

Stop thine ears and
Heed not their siren calls!
For they will tell thee that
They are calling thee to God,
But you will want to have nothing to do
With their conception of God!

DEATH AND DESTRUCTION FOLLOWS THEM. They have forgotten Muhammad ibn Abdullah, Beloved of God, Greatest of Creation - and for this error, wherever these Muslim bandits go, death and destruction follows. It is just right that all sensible people, both Muslims and non-Muslims treat such people with caution. For their heart is rusty from judging people, and their conscience is empty because they use God as the one-size-fit-all excuse for all their mayhem.

I am a sinner, so I don't matter. But you, sunshine. You are the breath of reasonableness and compassion, whether you are a Sufi, Kabbalist, Muslim, Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu or Wiccan. You must reject these bloodthirsty idiots parading as so-called Jihadis. They are no Jihadis. They have no inkling what the word 'Jihad' means. They can grow their beards long enough to trip their legs, but there is no wisdom in their lore. There is only hate and hubris. They are the opposite to the good guys, they are the Siths to the Sufis.

Thank God, I have you. My very own Jedi Knights of the Futuwat.

Pax Taufiqa.

Jesus, Rabia, Moses and the Pigeons - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 14

JERUSALEM, WEDNESDAY 23RD MARCH 2011, 4AM. What do you do when you are up and wide awake at 4am in Jerusalem? What else can you do but wash your underwear? My sainted mother would have been so proud. Anyway it was difficult to return back to sleep, not when Arjuna was snoring like a buffalo in heat in the next bed. As light dawned upon a cold (very very cold) and rainy morning in the Old City, I wandered out to the balcony for a cigarette. While shivering and puffing in my towel, I noticed that just across the road was a lawyer's office, "R.M. BEDOUN ADVOCATE" (zoom in on above pic). It crossed my mind to pay a visit to my learned friend later in the morning, but alas our tour schedule did not permit it. I stamped out the cancer stick on a bed of flowers and went indoors to the warmth of the room and my friend's melodious snoring. I remember wondering that, if we both snored at the same sound frequency, whether we would actually cancel out each other's snore. I never found out the answer.

WARM MILK is an excellent beverage when you find yourself being whipped by a bracing cold breeze in wet wet Jerusalem. It appears that despite what Abu Ayob said (No rain at all this year), we Malaysians have brought our Malaysian weather to the Holy Land. We are rainmakers. You can do the same too. Just try washing your car. While sipping my white drink, my friends returned from morning prayers at the al-Aqsa (yes, Taufiq... there was something better to do then washing your underwear). Less than 5 minute later a group of French Catholics returned from their morning worship too (probably not in the al-Aqsa). I timidly ventured a bonjour, and the old bidies replied cheerfully back Bonjour!

WHERE IS THE BUS?! Ariffin, myself and Ijan (who looked like Genghiz Khan in his furry hat) out in the entrance of the Holy Land Hotel. Waiting and waiting (and waiting) for the tour bus to arrive. As it turned out, the bus arrived almost 2 hours late, thereby pushing our scheduled tour, already precariously hanging on the ledge, into the ravine of the impossible. It will have dire effect later when the bus had to cross the border and reach Queen Alia Airport, Amman by 6pm to catch our flight to Medina.

THE DIVINE ELEVATOR. We visited the Chapel of the Ascension (on the Mount of Olives), where Christians (some at least) believed that Jesus ascended to heaven after calming down his companions following the exaggerated news of his death. Right next to the Chapel was a surau (small mosque). The signs says it clearly I think, but Ariffin, being Ariffin, went in anyway. I was shy and only took pictures from the outside. Yup. I should have just gone in. The secret of a successful pilgrimage is knowing when to follow the rules and when to disobey them. But I always get mixed up.

Well, there you see it - the Chapel of the Ascension, or some calls it the Dome of the Ascension. Both Muslims and Christians frequent this spot, much like many other holy places in this amazing city. One faith would enter the Chapel, examine the inside and probably pray to God, then the next would enter and repeat just the same.

Probably the most celebrated feature of the Chapel is the reputed footprint of Jesus. I looked pretty closely, but I cannot see it. Well, try and zoom into the picture and see if you can trace the outline. Maybe you can do better than me.

I noticed a pair of pigeons in the ledge of the Chapel. It would be the first pair of thousands of pigeons which appear to inhabit all the holy places that I would soon to visit, ergo the Maqam of Moses, the Prophet's Mosque, and the Masjidil Haram in Mecca.

"Well...? Are they Muslims or Christians?" one pigeon asked the other, perched on their bird's eye view of our group. The other replied in pigeon talk, "I don't know, Earl. They look kinda the same from here..."

"Jesus? You are looking for him? And so is Herod and the Elders? Well, I think he went thataway..."

RABI'AH AL-'ADAWIYAH. Her maqam was just next door to the Chapel of the Ascension. (But before we continue, let us be clear that when we refer to 'maqam' it doesn't necessarily mean 'tomb' or 'grave'. For many maqams, it is essentially a place of significance of the dead Prophet or Saint. He or she perhaps prayed or even lived there for awhile during their sainted lives. It makes sense really, as maqam also means 'station'. So you can say that this Maqam of Rabia's is her Jerusalem Station. Where she is in fact actually (and finally) buried is in the knowledge of her Friend, God. Well, station, substation or shrine, we were very delighted to finally arrive at Rabia's maqam. Most did not stay long in the subterranean cavern, but myself, Saiful and Ariffin remained for awhile longer with the presence of this amazing female saint, who was so sought after by many, many male saints of her day. If you do find yourself on Mount Olive, remember to contact and make prior arrangements with the custodian family of the shrine. They hold the key to her maqam.

ON THE SLOPES OF THE MOUNT OF OLIVES is a famous Jewish cemetery. Believing Jews would love to be buried here as according to their faith, whoever is buried on this holy slopes shall be the first ones to be judged by God and ergo, not to dwell too long in limbo. Our guide informs us that it can cost as much as USD90,000 for a single plot here. But if what theJews believe is true, I think it is a worthwhile investment to avoid an eternity in limbo, don't you?

MAQAM OF MOSES. After taking pictures in the freezing rain, we finally left Jerusalem on our way to the Shrine of Moses. (I will use the term maqam and shrine interchangeably. Why? Because I can. Okay, no more back-talk). After about 45 minutes drive across a grey and brown desert, the highway passing by many construction sites (what the heck are they building in the middle of this desert wilderness?), we finally arrived at our destination. Moses's Shrine stood in a solitary building complex (small-ish) far from any human settlement. Outside, Arab traders were making brisk business in ice-cream, rosary beads and a camel ride - "This camel, is the grandchild of the grandchild of the grandchild of the 300th generation of a camel that Moses once rode!" Okay, I am making that up. But you must remember that Jerusalem and Palestine-Israel has been in the God-bothering pilgrims' guidebook for centuries.

I was shy with the memory of the fiery red-headed and red-bearded Prophet. After all, he was known to be a strict Prophet (and I am not using the term 'strict' lightly here). After meandering about the compound listlessly, finally I took courage and entered the surau.MOSES KALAMULLAH, PROPHET OF GOD. In the cosy green carpeted interior I pulled out my journal, full of prayers and messages for Prophets from my friends and family. I went through the wish list of my friend Shal the Longhair, my brother Zahurein, my second brother Saiful and lastly my auntie, Mak Ndak. Then I spoke a little, sharing my feeling of happiness to be here, my desire for a better future, about my hopes and dreams. I even spoke of my regrets and sadness. I complained about my weariness of spirit and body. I think I may have drifted to sleep, because next thing I remember was a gentle nudge from the Shrine's custodian. Everyone else have left the surau. I gathered up my cane and bag, said goodbye to whoever was listening and walked out again into the cold desert air. Outside I met, Arjuna and Saiful. They smiled at me, and then took the picture of me below. It was lovely. And yes, as I mentioned earlier, there were pigeons here too.

It was a lovely visit, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa.

Drunk like a Cat - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 8

Juzz a leetle beet more, my good man. Hic!

I don't know how long I can make it being this way. I am kinda indiferrent and calm at this moment, sprawled as I am on the floor of the Kuala Lumpur International Airport. But if I allow myself a moment to think about what is about to happen (God Willing), this trip to Jerusalem, Medina and Mecca... and the planned visitations to the resting place of the Prophet and Prophets, Saints and Companions... well I get a little dizzy. I lose my balance between past and present. I lose my sobriety, I become intoxicated.

The wonderful thing about this kinda of intoxication is that I will have no regrets. I shan't be worried about my picture turning up on the internet looking like a darn fool.

Wait... Am I gonna regret this picture...!?

Perhaps I am lucky this way, I don't know. There is no hangover to suffer, no bills to be paid at the end of this Maqam Crawl, unlike a pub crawl.

I have to leave pretty soon. Tabung Haji (The National Pilgrimage Fund) are giving a pre-flight talk. I wish I can write more. Perhaps later.

Have a good day, sunshine. Tonight I am a traveler.

Pax Taufiqa.

Auntie Nab, Rabia & Salman in Jerusalem - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 7

(If unclear, please click on picture)

Rabi'ah al-'Adawiyah. She is a saint. Perhaps the most well known and revered of woman saints in the lore of the wise masters and their foolish students.

Auntie Nab. I have heard of her of course. A couple of years back after my mother passed away, I spent time with an old, old friend of my mother, Auntie Nab. She is an integral part of my life because she was the ‘matchmaker’ between my mom and dad. I guess you could say that without Auntie Nab’s timely intervention, I may have never been born.

Auntie Nab is a reader and admirer of Rabia. Women are often fond of Rabia because she always has something to say about man and our weaknesses – exposing our little petty vanities for the world to take lesson (and often giggle at). Like this story…

Hasan and Rabia. One day, Hasan al-Basri (ancient big-time saint and contemporary of Rabia) made a point to visit Rabia. But he did not take the bus, neither did he walk, ride a camel or any of the many mundane ways of transport available to him in those days. Hassan flew. Saints get to do this magical stuffs once in a while. Rabia was outdoor when Hassan came swooping down like an angel from heaven. And as he was descending, Rabia called unto him, saying, “O’ Hasan, even birds can fly!”

Jerusalem. Such is Rabia that she even has things (many, many, many things, in fact) to say to God Himself. I hope I shall be visiting her soon. Her maqam (tomb) is near Jerusalem (or maybe in Jerusalem?), and it is part of the itinerary of the tour for Tuesday. Am I excited? I am, but being it is Rabia herself, I am approaching her with deference (and not a little caution). It is always a good idea for men to be circumspect and careful when dealing with women, especially women saints.

Salman al-Farsi. On the same day we shall also be visiting the maqam of Salman al-Farsi, a great and beloved Companion of the Prophet. My hands trembled when I read the itinerary because I know him. He is a wonderful human being… a true Lover of the Beloved of God.

Have a lovely Monday, sunshine. Today, I am a traveler.

Pax Taufiqa.

.

Sometimes I am Just TOO Good.

Sometimes we are good and sometimes we are bad. At other times we can be really bad, and perhaps even too good. Hehehe. Just kidding... We can always be better. You go, sunshine! I am afraid I am still batting with egos, angels and djinns in the little sinners league. Just keep a seat for me, wherever your spiritual station may be, will you?

.

Have a great Friday, sunshine. Today I am leaving the city and heading into the woods.

.

Pax Taufiqa.

.

Footnote: Toon is from unpublished archive circa 2004.

The Defilers of Maqams

1. If The Kaaba …

If the Kaaba is a diamond,
The defilers of maqams are conspiring to pry off the gemstones
That dot her ornate setting,

If the Kaaba is life,
The defilers of maqams are conspiring to choke her breath,

If the Kaaba is the sun,
The defilers of maqams are conspiring to eclipse her moons,

If the Kaaba is justice,
The defilers of maqams are conspiring to conceal her mercy,

If the Kaaba is the universe,
The defilers of maqams are conspiring to rewrite her history,

If the Kaaba is a writer,
The defilers of maqams are conspiring to be her censors,

If the Kaaba is Rapunzel,
The defilers of maqams are conspiring to cut off her golden tresses.

That is want they want.

But who can they harm but themselves?
And what can they defile but their own name?

(No.1, from 'The Nineteen Verses'. 'maqam' in this context means the grave and tombs of the Companions of the Prophet and the Saints that dot the earth like bright pearls of divine grace)

I am not diverting from love and the theme of love. This is what we call tough love. It is still love, but this embodiment of love has sharp cutting edges. It is the opposite of hate and is gamely waiting to give the defilers of maqams its gentle loving attention.