God bless the Invisible Thread! - fathers and mothers, sons and daughters...

The Invisible Thread

There is an invisible thread

Between your heart and your child's,

And every tremor, every passion and peace,

Every fear, hope, every ambition and wish

Passes like mercury between the two of you,

So think beautiful things and thoughts,

Reflect with candour and gratitude

For all that the Lord has wrought,

Above all, that which is your child,

And the invisible thread 

That is between the two

Of you.

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

I am off to Singapore again shortly for work. So I shall miss my Saturday with Mika, my 9-year old son.

It is weary sometimes, working apart and away from your children. Not being able to come home to them. But this is just a two day's delay. My esteem for those who have to work outstation or overseas for months (or even years!) on end without seeing their children cannot be over estimated.

And the love that such parents have for their children - to work in a foreign country just so they  can give their children a better life?

God bless all fathers and mothers, all sons and daughters!

And God bless the Invisible Thread!

Have a wonderful Friday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE SUFIS OF SARAWAK - life, death, family and the pursuit of happiness

68. Death’s Door

Though you see me eating and walking,

Working and sleeping, breathing and living,

In truth, I am standing at Death’s door,

Waiting to meet my King.

As planned (and happily) as fated, today you will not find me in Kuala Lumpur, but instead in Kuching, Sarawak on the Island of Borneo. I am here to attend the tahlil (assembly of close kin and friends of the deceased) and a special mawlud (songs praising the Lord and venerating His Beloved Habibullah Muhammad (s.a.w.s.)).

The deceased in question is Abang Haji Bohan Abang Haji Osman, the centenarian father (101 years old this year!) of my partner, Abang Ariffin. He asked me to come for a good send-off for his saintly father and witness how the Sarawakians mourn, venerate and ultimately, celebrate the passing of a father, grandfather and great-grandfather. 

I took some pictures of course, and here are some of them.

It was a warm overcast sky beneath which I arrived in Sarawak, the Land of the
Puteri Santubong (one of the 7 princesses of King Solomon).

Myself,  little Ashman, the only son of Ariffin and his doughty
cousin, Naim. Ariffin just bought them those skateboards. Initially
Ashman was reluctant to ride it outside the house. "But the wheels are
gonna get dirty and the board scratched and dented, Father!" 
He he he, the innocence and beauty of youth.

The Tao of the Cat. Two mangy young cats were sleeping next to me.
Being the Chinese New Year celebrations this weekend, I thought
to myself, "Hmm. How apt." I often have this brilliant epiphanies
of the blinding obvious. He he he.

A little tired I returned to the small hotel where I am staying just a walking distance
from the house. I overslept and missed the evening Maghrib prayers, but
rushed over just in time for the night Isya prayers. But not before I was able
to take this picture of the Imam leading the faithful congregation. Man...
the things I do for this almanac. He he he.

This trip is not just about saying goodbye to an ancient soul, but to also meet
old buddies from my umrah pilgrimage in 2011. It was such joy for me to see all of
Ariffin's friends and brothers and sisters. Here is Ijan (aka Yul Brynner)
and Ariffin himself, or Haji Ipen as his own late father used to refer to him. The night
before he passed away, the father asked Ariffin, "So when are you returning back
to Kuala Lumpur?" To which my partner replied, "No... I am not going back. I am
here for good. Balqies, Sareah ad Ashman are all starting school here."
The father nodded and smiled his best smile ever.

But that night has not ended yet. For after dinner, and as promised to me by Ariffin,
the Sufis of Sarawak, consisting largely of Ariffin's family and friends gathered once
more in Abang Bohan's house... For a special mawlud in honour of the Prophet
Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) and in remembrance of the indomitable Abang Bohan.
Perhaps I did not mention to you that Ariffin's family is particularly Sufi?
Now you know. God bless you, God bless me, alhamdulillah
(Praises be unto God)!!

And so the mawlud begins... and pretty much best of all is that the passion and
power of the music, in the playing of the darbukas and clarinets are all coming from
young men, as the little kids sing the hymns and sonnets venerating their Prophet
Muhammad (s.a.w.s.). How excellent is God's creation, are all children.

Then the tempo began in earnest as Sufyan, the younger brother of Ariffin stood up
to commence the hadra (spiritual dance) and two little boys stepped out from the
crowd to whirl like the magical Sufis of old. This time, even the elderly stepped up,
including Abang Matasan despite his slip disc which he got when he carried his
father last week. He had to be assisted off the dance floor soon after though.
God bless all courageous men whose heart is filled with love.

Allahyarham Abang Haji Bohan Abang Haji Osman.
Before he died, he was still amazingly lucid and clear minded. One night
he suddenly stood up amongst his worried wife, children and grandchildren
and suddenly declared, to the seen and unseen...
"I do not worship any idols or statues!
I do not fear death! I only fear God!"

On that note, I must end the almanac. But before I do, wonderment comes to me as to what I have done to deserve such luminaries and loving spirits in my life. In my own book of account for this life, I have really no debits, only credits granted to me by Allah (s.w.t.) and His Muhammad (s.a.w.s.). I believe this to be true.

Have a beautiful Friday, sunshine. May your life be filled with beautiful and good people always. Especially that person looking back at you in the mirror.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE LAST SMILE AND THE RETURN TO THE TIMELESS

Less than one week ago, I wrote about my partner Ariffin, packing his family on a moment's notice, and returning to Sarawak to visit and care for his ailing father, the only man who has ever bathed me (his dad, not Ariffin). The post was entitled 101-Year Old Man, A Homecoming, An Uncle and Friendship.

Alas, now it is my sad duty to report that Ariffin's decision is inspired, for this morning at about 10am, I received a message from him on the cellphone that his father, Abang Bohan, has finally relinquished his hold of this mortal world, to return to the Divine Presence. 

Ariffin adored his dad, a man of distinct presence, and the only 100-year old man I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Two stories about them comes to my mind now, as I sit here in my bedroom, and the cool evening air wafts in like love's gentle comfort. For I too, in my little clumsy way, adored his dad.

Is this guy a Sheikh or something? First I recall Ariffin's happy return to the office after one of his (many) umrah (pilgrimage) to Mecca and Medina. But this time it was extra special because he brought his mom and dad too. And I remember seeing pictures of the pair with Ariffin pushing his ancient father on the wheel chair. "I treated him like a V.I.P, bro..." Ariffin shared as he smiled, "...in fact some people were asking me quietly.. 'Is this man some sheikh or something?'" Then he laughed. 

Dad's New Car! Then I recall sometime in 2011 (I think), as we lounged in the office after Ariffin returned from his hometown of Kuching. "Guess what I did, bro!" Of course, I didn't even bother trying and simply asked my partner what he did.

"I bought my father a Myvi (a little hatchback car)! " Then he explained, "One day I was sitting with my dad when suddenly he commented that he wished he had a better car than the old Kancil which he potters around in. You know... like the cars that his children now drive. So without hesitation I visited my friend's car dealership nearby and immediately ordered a Myvi. My friend was surprised because I didn't even bother test driving the car at all. When the car arrived at my dad's house, I quickly called him to come and see his new car. He was so excited that he ran out (albeit as well as a 90 plus year old man can run) when suddenly his kain pelekat ( a traditional wrap that Malay men wear) came undone and fell around his ankle. I helped him up and into the driver's seat and sat next to him. But after a while my dad just sat there and had not even started the car. So finally I asked him why isn't he starting the engine, to which he replied, 'Well... what did you expect? This is such a surprise!! Can't you see that my hands are trembling!!?"

Then Ariffin became silent and with a wistful look in his eyes, he confided to me, "Bro, I didn't think about the money and how I am actually gonna be paying for the car. Because the look of sheer joy in my father's face is worth any amount of money. If he had died there at that very moment, I myself would be happy because then my dad would have passed away in utter joy and it was I, who put that last smile on his face. After all he has done for me, it is the very least I can do for him..."

You know, our parents are not perfect. And even Ariffin admits one or two incidents which he felt that his father made a judgment call that may have been less than right. But that is what judgment calls are all about. Sometimes, when finely balanced between the pros and cons, even the best father or mother can get it wrong. But in the case of Abang Bohan, I think his correct judgments far outweigh in his favour. And I hope to fly down to Kuching soon to visit the family and pay my respects to this ancient man and the grieving family that he has left behind.

In our light moments, we both refer to Ariffin's dad as the Buddha, because he kinda looks like Buddha, venerable, ancient and timeless. And now I guess he has truly left us to return to the Timeless, our One God, Allah(s.w.t.) and the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.).

al-fatiha

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

101-Year Old Man, a Home Coming, an Uncle and Friendship

Friends

In the firmament of my sky,

In the questions and answers

As to who am I,

In the light of my day,

And in the rising of the Moon at night,

Verily, I know God chose my friends right,

No matter where we are, no matter what we do,

I know God bequeathed

Unto me my faithful,

Loyal friends,

...To overcome all tribulations,

To make good our place on this Earth,

As the Race of Adam and Eve,

As the Nation of Muhammad,

As a servant of God...

... He who dwells

In the infinite horizon

Of every man's heart!

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

My long standing friend, partner and founder of our law firm is leaving Kuala Lumpur. He is going home with his wife and three kids to Kuching, Sarawak (in the Island of Borneo) to devote his care and attention on his ailing father, Abang Bohan.

ABANG BOHAN. Abang Bohan is an exceptional man of 101 years, if Allah permits his coming birthday this year. He has 12 children and heaven knows how many grandchildren. As another exceptional (if somewhat awkward) tribute to Abang Bohan, is that he is probably the only human being, apart from my blessed late mother, and my dear auntie Sophia (Makndak) to have actually bathed me. But my mum and auntie bathed me when I was a little toddler, while Ariffin's father once bathed me 4 years ago. It was a spiritual shower of sorts, to cleanse me of some dodgy karma that has dogged my life up to then. In his nonagenarian frame (in his late 90s back then) was a light of knowledge and piety, and with some chalk, lime, water and a blunt butter knife, he administered me. He gave me some blessed oil, and a talisman of tin to arm myself, tied in a knot around my waist. For all these medicine and care, my love and respect for this ancient man is sincere and real. 

Mika. In frustrated tears trying to master cursive writing under the watchful
help of Herman. Later Mikhail complained to me, "Mummy was not
positive. She just laughed, Papa. Then she took a picture! But later
I went into her room, and I found a book. It was called
"Why Men Marry err... the bad 'b' word (Bitches, I think. he he he)"
Why did she buy the book, papa? Is it about her??"

UNCLE H. In an additional twist of fate, another man has come into my life, albeit indirectly through my ex-wife, Gina, and his name is Herman, her new husband. I had little doubt of his character even early on, but through my son Mikhail and his mum, I have heard nothing but good report about him over the years. He dots over my 9-year old son as if Mika is his own, checking on his internet usage, helping with his homework, ironing my son's school uniform and even cleaning his school shoes. And last weekend, when I had to miss my son's early birthday party (his birthday is actually this coming 31st January) as I had to go to Singapore for work, it was Herman who was running about getting the balloons, food and presents sorted. I have often asked Mika to call him Dad or Daddy, but Mika still insists on the formal prefix of 'Uncle'. Perhaps one day he will realize what a bargain he got when his mum married the 'Uncle'.

I want to share these stories with you, because I think it is important for me to spread a little cheer. We cannot really tell how God, in His Sublime Mercy may reward and bless our lives. Through a  centenarian or the new husband of your ex-spouse.

May Allah(s.w.t.) bless them always. And may the Prophet (s.a.w.s.) guide my friend Ariffin in his return to his hometown. He cannot imagine how much I shall miss him.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Baghdad in Singapore, 'Development' in Mecca - work, heritage, religion and of course... food!

I went down to Singapore again for some legal work last weekend. I may gripe and bitch, I may moan and sigh, but truth be told, I like working. It gives me a sense of purpose, an urgency that is sometimes missing in my life. Sometimes it is a telephone call from a customer that actually wakes me up from my mid-morning 'oh-what-am-I-gonna-do-now' procrastination. But don't tell my customers that... they might want a legal fee rebate.

We had problems telling the Singaporean clientele where to meet us. "700 Beach
Street..." We said, and they would normally ask, "Yes la... but what is the name of
the building?" The name of the office tower is actually 700 Beach, being also the address.
Funny how things that should make life simpler ends up making it
a little more complicated. He he he.

But it was not all work of course. After a tiring but well-sorted day, we headed down to the Arab Street locality of Singapore. And I took some pictures also...

Alex, our head of property and banking. Awake until 2.00am sorting out the
contracts and signing schedules for tomorrow's session. I could barely keep my
eyes open by then. Over the weekend we sorted out 39 signings with an approximate
contract value of a hair below RM40 million. Our client would be happy.

Next morning, if you are a local of Jalan Sultan, you would find me at a restaurant
called The Sultan's Kitchen. If it was anywhere else in the world, such an outlet
would probably be selling Indian Muslim, Arab or Turkish food. But as it turns out
it was entirely Chinese. I had a strong cup of coffee to wake me up. As I sat outside
I saw an old Chinese man making his round collecting cans of soft (and hard) drinks
at the garbage bins outside for recycling money. It is a poignant reminder that even
in this very rich city state, there is poor among us, always. I think Jesus said that.
So that is my Jesus thought for the day.

In the evening, we walked the famous Arab Street, and wandered into the small
alleys and side streets nearby. We found a Haji Lane. And it was one way, so
we made our way as per the arrow...

There appears to be something going on down there. House techno music were
booming and crowds of people were mingling. This calls for further investigation
of two men with some time to spare in this city of lions.

People (mostly young kids and two weather-beaten lawyers) were standing around
shuffling and dancing in that I-don't-really-know-how-to-dance-but-I-will-fidget
-a little-so that-people-will-think-I-may actually-know-how-to-dance sorta way.
I call it the zombie shuffle. There was also a depressing realization by myself that me
and Alex were probably the oldest geezers in the vicinity. But Alex didn't mind at all.
Alex is a man with no emotions whatsoever.

I really wanted to get up close to take some shots of that fancy turntable that
the DJs were playing with. But I was too shy and this is the closest I approached
the Red-Bull sponsored street music team.

Who says there is no old culture in Singapore? Alex reckon that this cozy little
neighbourhood would soon be demolished to build towering condo apartments,
shopping malls and office blocks. But I don't think so. I really don't believe that the
Singaporean government (being the overbearing super micro-managing behemoth
that is is) is the kinda of organization that would overlook a neighbourhood to be
developed. For what it's worth, they have actually encouraged (and enforced) a
time-capsule in this Bugis district. So you would still find quaint old shops with
quaint old entrance and grill. I like.

And in the centre of it all is the Sultan Mosque, a declared national monument
(and still operating mosque) since 1976. In Mecca, the Arabs have gone ahead to
annihilate the old hotels and small street shops around the Masjidil Haram (where
resides the Holy Kaaba) to build grandiose hotels, shopping malls and a gigantic
clock tower overlooking the Muslim world's number one place and focus of worship.
Again, ironic how the secular Singaporeans know better how to treat their Sultan Mosque.

We finally ended up here before heading back to the hotel. This little itsy bitsy
tea shop is reputed to sell the best cheap milk tea in Singapore. But I must report
that I cannot agree with such an assessment. The Kampong Glam restaurant across
the street serves better tea. But then again, that is my taste...

For supper I bought curry puff (or karipap in our dialect), a pastry
with curried chicken and potato fillings. It was a bit bland for our
Malaysian tongue. There is Alex, looking in disbelief at the size of
the karipap. And truly the proportion of this humble street food was
a wonder to behold. As we stood up to walk back, a stranger passed by and
said that we shouldn't waste food like that, because we still left some karipap
on the plate. Alex actually brought back the leftover to eat as
we walked back.

You dont' have to go to Baghdad to get to Baghdad Street.
On the way back to our budget accommodations to rest.

I haven't written for a couple of days already. Alhamdulillah, I am happy to be in Kuala Lumpur. Singapore was fun and interesting (which is good because it looks like I may have to go down again this coming weekend), but there is of course no place like home. 

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE BEST WAY MIRRORS CAN BE BROKEN - an allergic reaction

Talking to Yourself

You are talking to yourself only,

As you walk and cast your reflection

Upon the mirror that is called the World.

All the good, all the bad,

All the pretty, all the ugly

And all the in between.

Is you.

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

Allergy. Everyone is helping. My hands don't look very nice presently. It is full of scabs and spots which appear to be caused by an allergy outbreak. The doctor has prescribed antibiotics and antihistamine which didn't really work. I also supplemented that with a Chinese herbal remedy (full of dried roots, barks, fruits and fruit skins of laichee and wintermelons) which I had to boil into a blackish brackish ointment to soak my hands in. It kinda helped to heal the open cuts but didn't really help with the actual allergy, and the spots kept coming out. After a week I went to see the doctor again and he stopped the antibiotics but continued with a stronger antihistamine and a gel to rub on the skin. Finally yesterday, Ani, my loyal clerk, gave me a strange jello made from sea weed. I have rubbed my hands twice, and I think my hands feel a little better. I am also taking probiotic supplement pills, as suggested by Mr. Ikhlas, which also seems to be helping. 

White gloves. Today Heche purchased for me a pair of white cotton gloves. I have to travel with Alex and Ariffin down to Singapore over the weekend for a massive signing appointment with buyers of a new condo development in southern tip of Johor. I would wear the gloves if my hands have not dramatically improved by then. Don't wanna scare the clientele. It is not infectious of course, but you understand...

Breaking the Mirror. To be honest with you, I was a bit frustrated over my allergy.. and my own mirror surrounded my thoughts and amplified my concern. But now I cannot ignore that it is sometimes our own maladies and sickness that brings out the best in people around us. Our family and friends, so curious and concerned with my present condition. And despite what the above prose says, this time I think there is no mirror there at all between me and my fair-wishing friends and kin. They are gentle caring creatures, and they broke through my mirror of frustration to give me hope, and insyaAllah, a cure.

And that is the best way mirrors can be broken. Through compassion.

...try this. It might help.

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE PAST IS THE CONDITION OF THE FUTURE - so how will we chart our destiny if we do not know how we got here?

"We are not famous as soldiers or warriors. Only as journeymen on a journey.
It is not the dagger that we brandish, only our faith, our ordinary
way of life, the shovel and our sweat that made
this land of the Malays blossom."

Why a contract is thick. Without breaking a sweat, 2012 is flying speedily into the past with only three days left for us to complete whatever fate has planned for us this year. Today, I have a few contracts to review, some opinions to draft and some letters to send. I guess I will also be starting on a due diligence on a bank loan. It doesn't sound very interesting, but it is actually. For behind every contract, every loan and court case are human beings and their passions and ambitions. The Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s) said that whatever agreement you may have, write them down. For we sometimes forget our promises, and the nuanced considerations and 'what ifs' that make up a human transaction. All that 'what ifs' and human nuances... those are the bits that make a legal contract thick. 

A family project. I met my friend Mr. Ikhlas, yesterday morning. And later we were joined by another friend, Abu Hussin. At the end of our extended conversation, Mr. Ikhlas agreed that we should head over to the Historical Society to find out whatever I can about my family's past and ancestors. A couple of my uncles started the project, but alas, they passed away before they could complete it. I think it is time the project is continued.

After all, how will we ever chart our future if we do not know how we got here in the first place?

Have a lovely Friday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

Fana, Fun and Work - end of year whinging

17. Putting the Fun in Fana

Do not blame us for feeling happy

Being at the side of our Saidi

Swimming we are, in a sea of manna

Leaving footprints, on the shore of fana.

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

Fana is often referred to as the spiritual state of annihilation. There are different phases of fana for a mureed (student) to reach. You have the state of fana with your Master, the state of fana with the Prophet (s.a.w.s.) and the blockbuster box office state of fana with God Almighty. Well... this is what I am told. I cannot vouch for any such station as I am not even a mureed, merely a sympathetic bystander.

Right now, at this very moment, I am in a state of fana with my work. Overwhelmed with it. And at the end of the year of all times. I was kinda hoping things would ease off a little coming into December, but alas not. As it is, it looks like me and Alex will have to make another business trip to Singapore this weekend. But I guess this is a good fana also. The income feeds and clothes me, my partners and my small band of workers. So that we might live another day, to perhaps move one small step towards the other fanas.

God bless you, sunshine, in whatever work you are doing. Because for fana or manna, work you must... Hehehe. Yeah... it is not all just fun and games. Alhamdulillah!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Just As You Are - people are real, corporations are a myth

A friend.

Just As You Are

Tis’ better to be a master of a small boat,

Than an able seaman of a giant liner,

Tis’ better to be the lady of a cottage,

Than the maid of a mansion,

Tis’ better to cast a small shadow

Than to cast one bigger than yourself,

Diminished, I return to my small abode,

Diminished, I stroll down the quiet road

To my small heart and my small ambition,

To my books and my music,

As I seek solace from my Lord

And hear Him assure me

Time and time again,

Though I deserve no assurance…

 “Others may not see you as a star

But you are quite enough

For Me just as you are.”

…………………………

As a lawyer (for I am one), I take some pride with knowing 'stuff', thinking I 'understand' the world and the working of the human mind. I like to believe that I know 'what's what' and above all, that with all this vast knowledge, I won't let anyone make use of me. 

He he he.

Well, a couple of days ago I was well and truly 'used' by my  client. Completely dropped into the crapper and expected to learn to swim in the deep end of the pool. He he he. But I didn't drown. I managed to get to the pool's edge, but only just. Funnily enough, it was not from any help from my client, but rather the 'other side'. My client was a corporation, and the other side were individual human beings. I guess it should come to no surprise that people are better than corporations. After all, corporations have no feelings or morality.

Even politicians (and this is saying a lot!) are better than limited liability corporations. For at the end of the day, they are still human beings, representing themselves and their personal opinions and ideals, however moral or immoral it may be. A company is a means by which businesses derive maximum profitability with minimum accountability, as a corporate veil comes down upon man's greed and avarice, hiding its unquenchable appetite for money and power behind 'cute', 'friendly' and 'green' slogans, cooked up by their advertising and PR consultants.

I am still bitter at being used, I guess. He he he.

But I am here, and I am still alive and writing. I have done nothing deserving of this, but I have your kind company. So despite all this complains, life is, as always, actually beautiful. Alhamdulillah. 

Thank you, sunshine, for dropping in. Have a wonderful sabbath.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Gossamer Screen - beauty is the projection of power.

Beauty and Power

Beauty is just one

Of many devices

By which God projects 

His Power.

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

Singapore. I flew to Singapore yesterday for a day-trip at the behest of one of my clients. Like little legal gnomes, my group of lawyer friends guided and witnessed the signing of more than 40 contracts for the purchase of apartments by the well-to-do citizens of the southern city-state. I do mostly corporate stuff, but I sometimes help out my partner, Alex, in this conveyancing work (sale and purchase of real property), and I do enjoy dealing with retail customers... talking to real human personalities up-front, rather than through the corporate veil of companies and organizations... For you see, people think differently when they are spending their own money, as opposed to the company's money. It is a welcome change.

Beauty. The rain has been pouring like nobody's business these past couple of weeks, and as we took the morning flight I saw white plumes of cloud rising majestically in the sunny sky. And it was the memory of me and Alex flying fearlessly in a tin cylinder through the heavens that made me think later this morning - that beauty is the projection of power.

Eternal Beauty. And how strange it is for most people to fall for transient beauty when the eternal beauty and power of God is there, clear as day, looming over our lives like the clouds and storms in the sky, or intimately close to us, in the form and beautiful aspects of our children... 

The Gossamer Screen

You have witnessed it yourself, 

God is projecting His power 

upon the  thin gossamer 

screen of your life.

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

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

A Ship of Salawat on the Sea of Dzikr - thoughts and musings under the emerald eaves...

Strange thoughts may come to you, walking under the emerald eaves...

I went walking yesterday afternoon. In between preparing a due diligence report for a solicitor friend and a billion Euro deal, I sneaked out for a walk. Don't worry about the billion Euro thingy, for it is my experience that the bigger the value of a contract, the lesser the likelihood that it will actually succeed. But you never know, I guess.

It is important to walk away sometimes. Even for only 30 minutes. Away from the laptop, the phone calls, the sms-es and the WhatsApp. Away from the newspapers, away from the office. As I strolled under the emerald eaves of the park, I would listen to my Ipod. Although I sing terribly, I love songs. And in the Ipod is a playlist of songs I named 'The Red Rose'. It is a compilation of rock love ballads, pop love songs, folksy music and mawlud songs venerating and praising the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.). Of course, perhaps the songwriters never originally intended the songs to speak of the love of Muhammad and God, but I have an ear for such things. He he he.

Salawat for the Prophet (giving worthy greetings and calling upon blessings of God for the Prophet), which is the fundamental basis of mawlud songs, is important to Muslims. It is the necessary accompaniment to the Dzikr (remembrance of God). It is like a ship traversing calmly across a sea. It is like a stroll in a park, when all animate and inanimate things just feels good.

I soon finished my walk and returned, alas too soon, to the mundane stuff of billion Euro deals.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. A billion Euro here or there means nothings if you are not happy. So look for happiness.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

"You dislike being ignored? Now you know how I FEEL LIKE!" says God - a wedding, public speaking, the human ego and the path less travelled

Truth... 'Tis You?

What Truth Possesses You?

There is only One Truth

But the truth that takes hold of you

Differs according to your nature,

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are guided by love?

Lo, what truth posesses you

When you are possessed by hate?

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are guided by mercy?

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are possessed by vengeance?

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are guided by patience?

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are possessed by haste?

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are guided by knowledge?

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are possessed by ignorance?

Lo, what truth possesses you

When you are guided by humility?

Loe, what truth possesses you

When you are possessed by hubris?

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

Peaks and Valleys. And on, and on and on... we live our daily life being pulled in the eternal tug of war between love and hate, mercy and vengeance, patience and haste, knowledge and ignorance, humility and hubris.

I don't know about you, sunshine, but these are the peaks and valleys of my own, and each moment is defined thus, and so each moment for me, truth is manifested, being either the Truth of God, Most Compassionate and Most Merciful, or the many coloured truths of my ego - being self-centered, selfish, self-absorbed, envious and narcissistic.

Public Speaking. Things become more interesting as you step out of your shell and into the public arena. Although I am a lawyer, I am more of a draftsman rather than a litigator, working behind the scenes, advising and counseling. But of late I have taken a step out of the dusty bookish realm of drafting into the arena of public speaking and lectures. And I have been forced to face up to my own (often hidden) self image and pride. To find the balance between representing myself as a sensible 'respectable' man and avoiding the all-too-easy trap of vanity.

Below Average, You Say?! Happily, the review so far have been mixed - Downs like approaching a participant in the front seats to ask for the time, only to find her happily sleeping, Ups like receiving a call from the organizers to hold another lecture, and again Downs like being told that I have been marked average for my content but below average for my presentation. Ooh... the pain my ego felt.

He he he.

What in God's name is that fat man droning about?
The sinner at a wedding reception last night. Yet another
experiment in public speaking. But the happy couple (Messrs Syed Khaled
and Cherry Fifi) said they liked it. But otherwise, appearing to be ignored by 1000 people
is always a good lesson for the human ego. He he he. Now I know how God may sometimes feel like.
 I highly recommend it. And tomorrow night, I will be forming a trinity of speakers to give a talk on the
economic impact of emerging economies to the new 2012 batch of
of medical students of at a University here, and no doubt, to be largely
ignored by hundreds more of below 20s undergrads. 

I wonder how politicians and preachers maintain their sensibility when basking in the ego-boosting, heady and bewildering atmosphere of a clapping and adoring audience? I believe that all great terror, corruption and evil came somewhere from this failure of leaders to find a suitable remedy.

So I guess sometimes it is good to be told 'Sorry, but you kinda sucked!'.

He he he.

But all's well that end's well... The wedding reception was an unqualified
success (not counting me that is), and here is the husband and wife happily
surrounded by their friends. The wife was not so happy later when one old and
dear friend (no, not me.) jumped her, and accidentally pulled down her
veil and broke her beautiful tiara. Oopsie. On the way back the friend confided in me and
Heche, "I think I will keep out of sight for one month, until Fifi forgets..."

Have a lovely Sunday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

When Passion and Work Converge - result is blissful and happy activity

Hullo, sunshine. I have been awfully busy today. Sitting. Well, not just sitting, I was writing and sketching too. It looks like the talk scheduled to be given by the sinner on contract law will indeed happen next month. So I have been hard at my presentation slides like a mad beaver (assuming beaver are hard-working animals). It is two weeks overdue. My bad.

To show that I am not lying and have been sleeping the day through, below is one of the first slides concocted...

Please don't click on the website in the pic. It's not yet constructed.

Hehehe. Does the lawyer in the picture look familiar? I guess I have grown fond of the fat bearded fella in his sunglasses that has been residing in the cartoons of this almanac. Or perhaps, I don't have the time (or the talent) to come up with a new character. It is possible. But I cannot tell you how delighted I am to be this busy... because when my Passion (sketching and writing) and my Work (legal practice) converge, the result is blissful and happy activity.

I am gonna rest now, sunshine. I shall leave you with one of my earliest cartoons. I am sure it has been posted earlier, but I think it is always a good reminder that however strange the other person looks, or sounds... however peculiar his culture or religion is to you... however irritated or angry you might be by the other person's behaviour or words... and lastly, however tempting is the idea that there are people who are 'others' and there are people who are 'one of us'... that actually, deep beneath our skin and running through our veins is the same crimson coloured liquid that breathes life into us all. Such are the signs within our very bodies of Oneness of the Creator of all humanity. Don't you agree?

God bless you on this early hours of Sunday morning...

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way