THE HOBBIT, A MOVIE REVIEW - of dragons and gold, of God, the Sufis and the human ego

The Hobbit. Last Thursday evening, I grabbed hold of Mikhail to head for the first-day screening of The Hobbit, An Unexpected Journey. Mikhail enjoyed himself, despite two toilet intermissions during the 3-hours plus film by Peter Jackson. But for his father (a.k.a. me), as a Tolkien geek, it was just as close to cinema nirvana as I could hope to achieve, reveling in Peter Jackson's expansive and sensitive adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien's first ever book of the Lord of the Ring world. The Hobbit was written for his son, Christopher, you see. And from this humble literary effort by an Oxford Don (for Tolkien was indeed a Professor of English in Oxford - after he left my alma mater, University of Leeds), the LoTR franchise came forth and conquered the global box office with tales of Wizards and Balrogs, Rangers and the Riders of Rohan, the Hobbit Halflings, Elves, the Dwarfs, the Orcs and of course, Sauron, the Dark Lord sitting on his dark throne in Mordor... where the shadow lies.

The Book(s). Being written for a young readership, The Hobbit story is light and easy to read, and does not come near to exploring Middle Earth's history, characters and concepts later developed in Tolkien's trilogy of The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and The Return of the King. There is one more important book in his later works, and that is The Silmarillion, an even more ambitious effort which encompasses the creation of Middle Earth universe which resonates with the idea of Eru (being God), and the fallen divine favourite, Morgoth (as the Devil) who is revealed to be Sauron's master. This close resemblance to Judeo-Christian (and might I add, Muslim) lore is not unexpected, as Tolkien was a believer and a practicing Catholic. 

The Movie. Being also the shortest book of all four volumes of the Lord of the Ring world, it took us by surprise that Peter the Kiwi has managed to extend the film adaptation into a nine-butt-aching hours of three movies, the first now being The Hobbit, An Unexpected Journey. What this means is that Peter Jackson has a greater cinematic canvas to bring to life the story of the dwarf kingdom of Erebor and their golden horde, the priceless Arkenstone, Smaug the Dragon, his attack and capture of the Lonely Mountain and the expulsion of the dwarfs as ragged exiles, a humiliated and overthrown race. On top of this enthralling story, the director has also managed to better capture the emotion and characters of the book, the two key personalities being Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the defeated dwarf tribe of Ererbor, and of course the reluctant 'burglar' himself - Bilbo Baggins the Hobbit.

Helping the Dwarfs to return home. For myself, one of the best moments in the movie was when having escaped the Goblins, Thorin (who has always held great doubt as to the suitability of Mr. Baggins to survive the dangers and tribulation of the wild quest) confronted Bilbo and asked him why did he continue to stick with the ragtag band of dwarfs, on a foolish mission to regain their home and expel the dragon squatter currently occupying their fortress mountain of Erebor. After all, Bilbo has a cozy life and a beautiful little home for himself already in the Shire and has no need to assist the dwarfs in this foolhardy quest. To which Bilbo replied that it IS because he enjoys a home for himself that he is moved by empathy to help the Dwarfs return to their own home, far away in the Desolation of Smaug, in the place called the Lonely Mountain. For the little hobbit, having faced so many dangers and difficulties with the dwarfs, now truly understands the lonely pangs of a traveler in the wild, dreaming and yearning to return home. A sentiment that is shared by all of us, the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve, as we too, make our bitter sweet journey through this life, to one day return to the Divine Presence... insyaAllah...

The Hobbit & The Sufi

Each of us, Men, Elf or Hobbit,

Has a Smaug to conquer,

A Dragon to call our own

And to tame,

That is our Ego.

And each of us, of high or common birth,

Has a horde of gold to regain,

A gold without the 'L',

That is our One God by any

Other name.

In a journey to a homecoming

Blessed in the Divine Presence,

To return and to rest,

and end our tearful wandering. 

In every kernel of human thought, in every tinkering of the tireless human imagination, there is a spark of truth. In every book ever written, there is a secret door to God. And I think I found one in the Hobbit.    

I hope you have enjoyed this little review. It was unexpected!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Divine Allegory - God, the path and the rose of wisdom

You turned and you pointed, and when I looked in the direction You were indicating I saw a vast horizon of which I was unaware before. We stood at a great height and from here the

distant sea was visible with its sparkling reflections of light...

A Friend. Thus wrote a friend, the beginning of a short-short story. It is nice to meet a friend. Yafiah Katherine dropped by recently and as is the norm, I returned the courtesy and paid a visit to her at her site entitled Wild Dervish Writes - a Sufi Look At Life. If you would like to know how the prose ends, you may visit her by clicking on the picture below. She is also an author, a postgraduate presently doing her thesis and invites you to swot on Sufi books that have influenced and inspired her. You may glean such tomes here in her Amazon Sufi Book Store.

Hikmah. In this short and often ill-used life of mine, I have at least found out certain hikmah (wisdom) through observation and also rolling through the mire of my mistakes and error. Oh, it is not something extraordinary or secret. The hikmah is there, apparent as the Sun, and perhaps just as blinding (obvious). 

God speaks in Allegories. In the Holy Quran, verse 24;35, God says that He speaks to mankind in allegories. And this is how my friend Yafiah is speaking to me and you, through her stories and prose. Now the trick of it all is for me to realise that God is speaking to us all the time in allegories. He weaves His story and His Love and Lesson all around us. He's is all there for us to be aware. But being aware is the hardest bit of all, especially when we are tested...

Forgotten Allegories

I forgot that God was speaking to me in allegories 

when I was scolded and came away bitter and angry. 

I forgot that God was speaking to me in allegories 

when my hopes were broken and I felt myself broken. 

I forgot that God was speaking to me in allegories 

when in the middle of nowhere my car had a flat tire. 

I forgot that God was speaking to me in allegories  

when I became ill and felt my body on fire. 

I forgot that God was speaking to me in allegories 

when I came to money and ill-used all my wealth.

God speaks to me in allegories all the time

But how easy it was for me to forget! 

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

Hindsight. Of course, in hindsight, we inevitably learn and realise the truth. That the 'good' and 'bad' occurrences in our lives are nothing if not God speaking to us. Then we are able to find the balance, and read what God intended us to understand all along. The trick and wisdom is for us to realise this truth without hindsight, and realise it as it happens...

A Rose of Wisdom. This is the Rose of Wisdom that I seek from God. I am told that such divine bloom can be found in the Garden of the Prophet (s.a.w.s.). Now that I know of this rose, I am asking for it. Can you show me the way to the Garden, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Fear God for what you might miss out - about God, Prophet, mankind and other useful information...

Fear God

Fear God for what He may grant to you,

For instead of giving you

What He desires for you,

He gives you want you desire.

……………………………..

We do not know what's good for us sometimes. Probably, most of the time. I think this is a plain simple truth. And although we may know that God always wants what is good for us, what God actually wants for us (and of us) is often a point of debate and conjecture.

So to avoid all sorts of silliness, God has sent down holy books, Messengers and Prophets to mankind, the last holy book being the al-Quran and the last Messenger being Muhammad ibn Abdullah, the Seal of the Messengers, the Chosen One, the Most Beloved of God(pbuh). God saved the best for last, you see. Just like in every good movie you have ever seen. And even this gripping, nail-biting ending is being drawn out over many, many years, as the spiritual station of the Prophet Muhammad(pbuh) rises and rises and rises.

So fear God indeed, for many reasons. Another reason being that you might miss out on His Most Excellent gift to us and to all Creation... our Prophet Muhammad(pbuh).

I must leave you for a while, sunshine. No postings at all tomorrow as I am going for a day trip to Singapore. Yes, for work. And yes, on a Sunday! 

No rest for the wicked...

Hehehe.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

I WILL KEEP YOUR SECRET AND YOU WILL KEEP MINE - a little story about merciful secrets

In a book I once read, the title of which now evades my memory, is a short little Sufi tale. The tale really just revolves around a subtle dialogue between God and a Saint. And like all delicate things, it is open to be misconstrued and misunderstood. But this warning can be given to almost any book, so we shall proceed nonetheless. I am doing this because I think it is a beautiful reflection of the intimacy between God and His Creation. Alright, here it is...

The Story

In the story, the Voice of God was heard by a Saint. God said, "Shall I disclose to the people about you and the secret thoughts and feelings emanating within your heart? Shall I tell them of your hidden sentiments, far-flung as it is from the ordinary and outer form of your faith, so scandalous that the people will catch you and stone you?"

The Saint did not ponder long before he replied, "O' Lord! Shall I tell the people of Your infinite Mercy, so that they will never again bow and prostrate before You in prayers?"

To which God answered, "Alright then. I shall keep your secret and you will keep Mine."

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

Rest your eyes, for you look tired. Rest your soul, for you are weary of looking. Sit by this story and take what goodness and secrets there are for you to take here. God bless and may you have a perfectly wonderful day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Living with the Worst Comedian EVER in the Whole Wide World

My father. The Comedian. *Sigh!*

I was in my room when Mikhail popped in. "Come on here and give me a hug!", and Mika dutifully gave me a good bear hug. I like to tease him and in an astonished tone exclaimed, "Hey! I smell a perfume on you! A girrrl's perfume! Have you been hugging girls in school?!"

"Naaaaw, Papa!" he protested.

"But you DO smell of girl's perfume!" I insisted.

"No, Papa! I have been hanging out with Aidan, Yu Shen, Amirul ...." 

"Really? Funny how your girlfriends' names are like boys'."

He rolled his eyes exasperated, "Because they ARE boys! Papaa.... stop it!"

Hehehe. Satisfied, I concluded, "I am so funny, right?"

He didn't reply, but sat on the bed quiet like. Then without facing me, he suddenly asked. "Knock! Knock!"

"Who's there?" I replied in the time-honoured tradition.

"Papa." 

"Papa who?" I inquired.

"Papa the Worst Comedian Ever in the Whole Wide World."

Teasing Mika. Being a son of mine, it is open-season for teasing 24 hours a day, 7 days a week by me and his uncles. That is the heavy cross my son has to bear. But he is getting good at his courteous retorts, I think.

Both Mika and myself were coughing a bit last night. "I am just like you, Papa." My son observed. "If you are sick, I am sick. Like Papa, like Son, you know..."

Yes, Mika. I know.

The Cosmic Kindergarten. I find life to be one long education in a cosmic kindergarten of God. Mikhail's first name is Muhammad, in honour of the Messenger. It is my life-long love and vocation to know more about God, more about Muhammad, more about my own son, and in no small way contributing to my own understanding about myself.

So far there is nothing to praise in me, being the stubborn sinner that I am. But by reading and listening to the stories about God and the Prophet, and learning human nature from the little clone of myself that is Mikhail, I take refuge in the goodness of their hearts

20. The Storytelling Time

Ah! Like children are we,

In a storytelling time

At a cosmic kindergarten!

You are sitting and listening

To the Messenger telling you

About God,

And what God is and isn’t.

You are also sitting and listening

To God telling you

About His Messenger,

And what His Messenger is and isn’t.

According to your faculties and condition,

Some may understand a lot, while others less so,

But all are deeply loved

By the Owner of the Kindergarten

And His Storyteller.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. God bless all children...

Pax Taufiqa

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

If the Model is Exquisite, do not wonder why the Painting is Beautiful - of Ghosts, Rumi, God and Friendship

Sigh. Why can't this crank just leave me alone.

Rumi is quite Da Man, you know. And although I have known of him for some time, I can never really wrap my turban around his prose. Just like Ruzbihan’s, they are so elevated and transcendental that my brain kinda break down and refuses to budge despite my loudest exhortations. So I say that if Rumi’s prose is so high and heavenly, then obviously I must drag Rumi and his fabled lore down to my low standards. So I am sorry if you are looking for elevated love in this almanac. I don’t think you will find any here. There is an elevator in the building, correct, but the arrow is always pointing down, because you know, I am that ‘low kinda guy’. Hehehe.

Rubbing Rumi

Did Rumi not say,

“How will your mirror

Be polished if you are

Irritated by every rub?”

Well, I am Rumi’s proverbial mirror.

And yes, Mr. Rumi…

I do get irritated by every rub.

But maybe it is you who is

Rubbing me the wrong way!

Ha.  Ha.  Ha. My beard is funnier than his jokes.



I don’t write poetry, actually. I just write. I have no notion of the aesthetics nor am I an avid reader of poetry. What actually happens is that I just pay attention and listen to any ghost willing to impart some understanding of God, the Prophets, the Companion, the Saints and humanity generally. And just like an artist with his model, if the subject is beautiful, how else can the artist draw her. If God is so utterly beautiful, how else can I write of Him?

Friends. Well, Rumi or Ruzbihan, Ariffin, Rusty, Rose, Lee, Petr, Ema, Matasan, George,  Zulkarnain or Katmon… so many friends and so many faces. How I wish sometimes I had ten thousand extra hours to sit with my old and new friends, to listen to their stories and jokes, to commiserate at their loss or sickness. Just to be a part of their wonderfully rich lives. I am a sinner, but by God I am surrounded by beautiful people. Far and near, alive or dead, their tales seed my life with hope, and their love and compassion shame me to be a better person.

Ghosts? I do not actually see them. But their voices are loud and clear. I read them in books, and I hear them in the oral traditions from people of all sorts of spiritual colour. And all of the good ghosts are saying, "Do not let our good stories die with us. Do not let everything that we struggled for, Love, Faith, Truth, Kindness, Humility and Beauty perish with us."  So I listen. Then I write.

Thank you for reading what I write. Have a happy, happy Sabbath, pet.

Pax Taufiqa.

Medina and the Chapter Ya Sin - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 20

WHAT A PITY. One of the first emotions which I crossed my heart when I gazed upon the gilded entrance into the actual tomb of the Prophet was “He looks caged… What a pity.” Later that night while chilling with my companion, Afizan, he also voiced the same feelings – “I don’t know, but when I gazed before the Raudah, I felt pity – that he is visited by thousands upon thousands of his followers each hour of the day, yet he looks imprisoned behind in the Raudah (Literally means ‘the Garden’ and denotes the resting place of the Prophet inside his mosque, Masjid Nabawi).” I thought I was the only one feeling such emotion, but I guess I am not alone.

EASILY PLEASED. While I was sitting by the pavement on my first day in Medina, suddenly a young arab youth sat next to me and asked to borrow my lighter. He said “How are you, brother?” It was a greeting which he obviously thought little of, but to me it meant everything. Finally, a local of the City of the Prophet greeted me as a guest. He then said thank you and left me to my contentment. It doesn’t take much to please me. Not in Medina especially.

CHAPTER YA SIN, VERSE NO. 82. I spent a lot of time in Medina with a room mate whom I call Arjuna. He is a sincere person, charming, energetic and has lived an interesting life though he isn’t very old. In one of our many chats, he had this to share. “I have a teacher of the Tarikat (Sufi Order) in Indonesia. And one day he told me that in the Chapter Ya Sin of the Holy Quran, in particular verse No.82, the bit where it goes “…kun fayakoon…”, it means that God says “kun!” and the Prophet replies “…fayakoon!” Below is the actual verse in Arabic Script and as translated by Abdullah Yusuf Ali.

Verily, when He intends a thing, His Command is, "be", and it is!
(Innama amruhu itha aradashay-an an yaqoola lahu kun fayakoonu)

So in summary, what the Sufi teacher is trying to say is that all happenings in Creation from the Year-Minus-Zero till now occurred and is still occuring upon God saying “Be” and the Muhammad replying “And it is!”.

I nodded my head appreciatively, “Cool, cool... I never heard that one before.”, and thereafter kept my silence. Later that night however I remembered our conversation and wrote it down in my journal. For me, it was the best thing so far that I have received in Medina. A third bundle came in the form of a poem to a sinner as he made his solitary walk back from his midnight soiree at the Raudah. And that prose shall be in my next posting about the pilgrimage. But for now I leave you with a little poem recorded some 7 years back, ‘the Nabee’ here meaning the Prophet, Muhammad...

38. Make Me Pretty
o' Lord,
If I am a gift to the Nabee,
Then wrap me up in Your Beauty.

Powder my nose with discretion,
Shade my eyes with compassion,
Scent my breath with remembrance,
Colour my lips with conviction,
Lighten my brow with humility,
And comb my hair with chivalry.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. God bless you.

Pax Taufiqa.

The Evil Queen & The Pearls of Wisdom

11. If all are beautiful
O’ love,
If it pains you to feel that I,
Your lover, has withheld something from you,
Know that it pains me more,
That you think I do it out of anything other than love.

Know, o’ love, this to be true,
If all are always granted gifts, there is no meaning to gifts,
If all are always joyous, there is no meaning to joy,
If all are always beautiful, there is no meaning to beauty,
And alas, happiness becomes an empty word,

A shell whose pearl has been stolen,
A fairy tale bereft of witches and evil queens,
Deposed of any wisdom.

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

.

EVERYTHING IS KNOWN BY ITS OPPOSITES. I read this truth somewhere, and now I cannot recall the book. I should really, because in the scheme of truths, this is what Yoda may call the Awesome Truth.

.

EVIL? NO BIG DEAL. Evil likes to think it is special. Hannibal likes to think he is a genius sadly inclined to eat man-meat. But the sole purpose of evil is to define good. Goldfinger likes to think he is the main character, but no... its James Bond. The Evil Queen thinks she is the star in the fairytale, but no... its Snow White. The jealous stepmom dreams of glory and wealth for herself and her daughters, but no... the heroine in the tale is soppy Cinderella.

.

.

PEARLS OF WISDOM. The pearls are there to be fished out from the Sea of Thoughts. But the most luminuous can only be drawn with the support and guide of the Prince of Pearls, the Sky of Mercy, the all-praised Muhammad ibn Abdullah. If wisdom is what you seek, go to him. And it would be good to bring something to barter with, and the wise normally recommend a commodity most precious above all the golden horde of tyrants. The commodity of Patience.

.

Through the prism of love, whatever is granted to you, whatever is withheld from you, all is done or undone in the Name of Love. And if that is the case, my friends - why do we ever need to despair at all?

.

I am just thinking aloud here. Heche is busy tending to her garage sale, leaving me to my thoughts and fancies. Thank you for accompanying me on this balmy Saturday evening here in Kuala Lumpur.

.

Pax Taufiqa.