SAILING THE SEA OF MATRIMONY - all roads and all knowledge inevitably leads to Hu... and to you.

1. Universe Within

Galaxies swim within my veins,

Stars make home in each cell of my body,

Cosmic winds rise from my lips,

As creation mingle sweetly in my eyes.

                                                     

                                  I am the intangible vessel,                                 

The wandering soul,

Tasked to find and record,

The Speech of the One.

I am the broken vessel,

Holed below my waterline,

Sailing an unbroken sea,

With a smile and verily, a fool’s hope!

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

If you are reading this, know that you are reading the memoirs of a fool. But alhamdulillah you are with a smiling fool. 

I don't know about anyone else, but I am contented to be a fool than a morose scholar, forever crying "Oh woe! Oh sadness! Oh, the things that I know!!" . Instead I am happy to constantly be amused, astonished and struck speechless by this life, on a course set by Him., until the day that it pleases Him to take me back.

But as I am still alive and writing, I guess there are still secrets and surprises left to be uncovered. And in the entwined limbs of lovers in rapture there are secrets to know, for there is nothing of value if that thing does not take you closer in your understanding of God Almighty.

Whether you are sailing across an ocean or the stormy waters of the matrimonial bed, seek God!

Consummated passion and more importantly, safety, is there. 

He he he. And to grease the machinery of your impending marriage (assuming you are getting wed) do remember this fine line spoken by a friend of mine to his betrothed...

Dear Love,

Our contract of marriage is a strange thing,
For the definitions are waiting to be explored,
The meaning of words and names are waiting to be written...

So write me, and who I am,

For I am without meaning until you tell me

What I mean to you...  

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

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Physical Gloss over the Spiritual Essence - knowledge and learning in the embrace of the Master

I asked a friend of mine recently, "Have you read Shaykh Abdul Qader Geylani?* (*a famous Sufi Grandshaykh of the Syariat (the Law) and the Tarikat (the Path)). To which he replied in the negative. And I think he was amused by my crestfallen reaction (which I think I found hard to hide) for he said, "He is not in my priority of reading..." 

So I asked him what was his priority reading, and he said, "The Holy Quran, the Hadith (verbal traditions of the Prophet), perhaps the books of the four school (mahzabs) of jurisprudence of Islam..." He felt that it is important for him to focus on these basic groundings and not be distracted by other books, which I guess appear to him to be secondary and collateral to these books.

My first (and emotional) reaction was to spring on him and shake his structure- Oh why oh why would you not want to open yourself to the love manifested by someone such as Shaykh Abdul Qader? A love of divine presence connected through the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) and the Companions and Saints? A love that you can sense, taste and feel through his spiritual discourses? Why would you not want to grab hold of this Saint's robe and let him drag you through our simple hypocrisies though it may hurt our spiritual sensibilities? Why would you not want Love at all? But then someone interrupted us and he whispered to me,

In the Kiss, In the Embrace

Love cannot be informed upon,

Love cannot be explained,

Love cannot be told from 

One person to another.

Love must be transmitted in a kiss,

In the embrace of the Master 

And submission by the apprentice.

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

So I said no more on this matter.

But the next day, another old friend of mine dropped by in the hallow of my thoughts and by this he challenged my friend's view - You say that you wish your religious study not to be distracted by other spiritual books than the Holy Quran and the Hadith and the books of the four Imams of Jurisprudence. But in your life you are reading the newspaper, you are reading about politics, the economy and society in general. You are driving and you would be studying the advertisement billboard that litter the roadside. You are reading books, journals, magazines, brochures for computers and surfing the internet and reading all sorts of things, written by all sorts of people. And this you say is okay because those reading material are not spiritual or religious in nature. 

But what is 'nature'? At another level everything in its very nature is spiritual. Whether it is about health or wealth, science or technology, people and society, politics and ideologies, banking and commerce - Such things sometimes appear with a gloss of materialism because we are dealing with the physical world and its inhabitants. But truth be told, the knowledge is coming from the same source and MORE importantly, one way or another, it is TALKING about that same source - the One Originator of all things physical, felt or deserving of our contemplation, our One Lord God.

Coming and Returning

All knowledge comes from God,

And all knowledge returns to God...

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

But I cannot share such things with him because there is of course adab (good manners) to consider. I cannot intrude into the bridal chamber of Love. So I ask of Love for Love and no more. Love will bide His time as He wishes.

Have a lovely day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

A Pebble of Love in the Nation of Muhammad - a little Italian Project

by Cristina Colombo

A Pebble of Love in the Nation of Muhammad 

Such is the nature of the Prophet, 

That if he would pick up a pebble, 

The pebble would begin chanting, 

Oh Love! Oh Love! Oh Love! 

Undone, unbroken, unmade, 

Drifting before finally the tide 

Of my desired fate brings 

Me forth upon this shore... 

Where I find artisans and princes, 

Peasants, the rich and the poor 

Of his nation crying out, 

Oh Love! Oh Love! Oh Love! 

................ 

The lesson of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) is not monopolized by any single class in the Nation of Muhammad, not the preachers in the mosque nor the politicians in their parliaments, not the kings in their palaces nor the poor in the gutter, not by the businessmen nor the housewives, not by the poets nor the writers, not by the gardeners nor the fishermen of the rivers, not by any race or nationality.. none can claim to have the sole right to speak of or for God.

Everyone, every man, woman and child, by virtue of being a Muhammaden and a Muslim, has an avenue towards the manifest mercy and love of the Lord, by any other name we call him Muhammad ibn Abdullah (pbuh). 

And such is the Lord's affection for His Prophet that for those who seek Muhammad and inevitably comes to adore Muhammad (pbuh), success is given both in this world and in the next. There is no waiting for reward only in the afterlife. For if you have fallen in love with Muhammad (pbuh), Mercy to all the Worlds, you have already died to this world, and though people will still see you working hard, living and loving, striving to attain your ambitions, in truth, you have become like the pebble, made heart-shaped by the loving hand of Muhammad, and chanting that most eternal of dzikr, "ya-Wadud! ya-Wadud! ya-Wadud!" (one of the Lord's name to mean the Most Loving One) 

Cristina Colombo is an Italian artist residing in Milan. The hearts depicted in this posting is all hers. She has a talent (as these Italians do) of turning her passion into a work of sublime, provoking art (You cannot mention an Italian without working in the word 'passion' somewhere in your description. He he he). She has permitted me the privilege to unite some of her 'hearts' to my inchoate stumbling verses. You may visit her works at her Facebook page by Clicking Here.

Have a bright and lovely day,sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no Place in Islam 

Love will show the Way

Umar and the Devil. The Companion and the Trickster - A little diversion about the nature and passion of Umar al-Khattab

33. Umar oh Umar

Tallest of the Companions,

Handsome and strong!

The Devil himself would flee

Hearing his footsteps

Stamping through

Medina.

For the Devil knew

Mankind’s

Nature and habits,

But no one can be sure

What Umar might do,

Given half a chance!

Umar oh Umar!

On an auspicious day a long, long time ago, a mighty Quraysh warrior in Mecca made up his mind to rid Mecca of the social problem that was Muhammad. But before that day ended, that man's views would change irredeemably as he became one of Muhammad's staunchest defenders, and in his time he shall be a Rightly Guided Caliph of Islam after the demise of the Prophet.

So you see, the Devil had cause for worry whenever Umar comes around because frankly, even the Devil cannot second guess what Umar might actually do if the righteous Companion ever bumped into the Trickster in some lonely city alley.

God bless the Companions of Muhammad, God bless the Saints, and may God always bless you.

Have a wonderful day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Taj Mahal of the Heart - The Divine Guarantee for the Highest Edifice you build in the Name of Love

154. Taj Mahal of the Heart

O’ lazy builder,

You already have foundations of love,

But you have not built

The pillars of responsibility.

Build! And waiver not in your conviction,

Do as the masons do,

For just as the masons build,

So must you.

Build in the hearts of men

And all you hold dear!

Build! For the Lord

Is your Guarantor of any edifice

Which you raise upon

The Foundations of Love,

In the Name of Love.

A testament still standing,

When all of men’s conceit

Have crumbled to the earth,

And all the stars in the night sky

Have twinkled out of existence.

IN AND OUT OF LOVE. You and I, we have been through a lot, have we not? We have fallen in love, and perhaps we fell out of love. We have heard the voice of another, telling us she will never love another, but somehow or rather, she did. And we did too. But do not worry.

BUT IT'S STILL TRUE. I always believe that most people, when they say that they love you, they mean it. And I bet you were sincere as you can be when you confessed your undying love for someone you have now left. Or has left you. I do not like to judge things by the present alone. Things may have come to a dead end, but along the way did you not share beautiful dreams together? Did you not snuggle in the warmth of your lover's embrace and felt, "Wow... finally I have found my place in creation. And what a wonderful place creation is!"

DIVINE GUARANTEE. So just as the prose above says, that little nirvana you built, that paradise, that perfect Taj Mahal you once inhabited with your love is still there. Kept pristine by the Angels of Memories, its marble floor polished daily, its towering columns regularly inspected for cracks. But the past has already happened, so nothing should affect your beautiful past. Even if the present has forced you to leave your paradise of love.

DIVINE PRESENCE. After all, all souls once knew of the Divine Love in the Divine Presence, for we were there, with Him. And all souls left God's presence to inhabit their mortal bodies. Just because we are not directly in the Lord's presence now, does it mean that it did not happen? That the beautiful past with God never actually occurred? Simply because we find this life tiresome and hard? Full of disappointments and bitterness?

I am not bitter. I am a little sad sometimes. Mostly I am happy. Because I like to remember the greatest love that I have ever known - God. And I remember still the Foundations of Love that He left in my mortal soil. It begins from within me and reaches beyond the 8th Heaven. And there, in the perfected love of the Divine Presence, my Lord is still waiting for me, some day in the near future I shall see Him.

So all is good, you see?

Have a beautiful day, sunshine. And if you are in love... build. And do not be shy or reticent in the edifice that you wish to build with your lover. God has already shown you the way, yes?

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

If God is Best, why settle for less? - Prose of Ramadhan Part 70

Why settle for less?
(Ramadhan Verses 35)
O' little man,
O' slave of your passion,
Do not choose in haste,
Whether in a state of delight
Or cold sorrow.

Pause and stay your choice,
Wait until tomorrow.

Give your most passionate deeds
For God, the only safe host
Of passion.

Do not burden people
With your undying, 
Give your yearning
To the Only True Undying.

Do not give your heart away
That most priceless treasure,
Give your heart unto Him
Who will give you more
Than your fair measure.

If God is Best,
Why settle for less?

If you love someone, let him/her be. If you love somebody, set them free - Sting had something to sing about that... (Click Here)

It is the able lover who will set his lover free. It is the able friend who will have the conviction of purpose, the certainty bordering madness who will set his friend free. Free from the chains of his words and actions, free from the tyranny of his cutting words. For a true friend will not feel hurt at all, he will feel love, and look beyond the words, seeing with the keen sight of a believer. Beware if you have such a friend or a lover. For he or she will see beyond your hurtful words and protestation. You shall not understand him or her fully, but you are blessed to have their company. For it is only with God are they truly happy, and they do not place the burden of their undying (fill in here... love / hope / trust / belief) in you. To them, you are always a reflection of God, however awful you can be. I am speaking as one who can be truly awful (just ask anybody) to his closest and dearest.

In any relationship between one person and another, God is not just a helpful third, God is, in truth, the One and Only, and we are naught but mirrors. Or so I am told.

Have a joyful Thursday night, my Mirror, my Trinity, my Love.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

The Highest Passion is Patience - Prose of Ramadhan Part 16

88. Passion 2

Sobriety and Patience

Is better than Passion,

They become wine to those

Who have passed the state of intoxication.

Being a sinner in disguise, I have no experience worth mentioning about the spiritual path. But from my friends, who are worthy in many aspects to comment about 'the path', I have found some interesting lore. And one is that patience and sobriety is higher than any passion. However in that context, I have changed my mind since recording the prose some seven years ago. Because sometimes, it is passion that you need to fuel sobriety and patience. So perhaps it is wrong to equate passion with mind-toppling prose or action. So let me adjust the prose to say that the highest passion is patience. Yes. I like that. The Highest Passion is Patience.

13. Adoration is not love (Ariffin)

O’ wayfarer,

O’ wanderer,

O’ student of the Unseen,

If you have sup enough wine,

Then throw away the wine glass,

And take this lentil soup…

That to adore

Is not to love.

Resist adoration

When it becomes

The End of Love

And not merely

Love’s expression.

I often laugh at the puzzle and hijinks that some people stumble into in their adoration of the Masters. I think it is sweet (if sometimes surprising!). People looking from outside will regularly condemn the Sufis for their 'exaggerated love' for the Masters. But it is merely a question of perception and what you actually mean by religion. For the Sufis religion is life itself, and life itself is religion. So life is not about a quick change, an instant turning of a new leaf like that of a page. Life and religion is more like a book, with a foreword, prologue, epilogue, footnotes, chapters, bibliography and an index. 

So what chapter are you at, sunshine, in the book of your life?

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

My One Constant Abiding Romance

91. My Lord flirted with me

My Lord flirted with me yesterday,

In the aftermath of a storm,

In the cool and damp air of

A corner in His creation,

Green with life and love.

Green wet grass beneath my feet,

Green moss and crawlies that climb

The trees that kept me company,

And in the monsoon drain, the roaring water

Brown with silt from the

Hilltop above.

And My Lord winked at me,

Sending lonely drops of water

Plummeting from the leaves of the shading trees

Into the puddles that lie by my feet;

*wink*

*wink*

*wink*

Creating ripples of my Lord’s

Recreation with me, in an ever

Expanding arch and weakening force,

As if the Lord is Himself bashful of me.

*wink*

*wink*

Feeling a little embarrassed and shy,

I took leave of my Lord’s signs

And rejoined my family

Waiting for me, in

The warmth of my

Aunt’s house, and

In the love glimmering

In my aunts’ eyes.

And not a moment

Have I been sitting,

Until 'the Question'

Is again asked by

My aunts,

“When will thee marry?”

Sigh.

God will always be God to me. The prose was recorded sometime in end 2008, at my beloved Mak Su's (my late mother's youngest sister) home. That afternoon it rained heavily, and I wanted to take a breather and was walking her neighbourhood. Her house is at the foot of a tall hill. I do not know when God may flirt with me. But when He does, I like to jot it down. I record sweet events and memories of a Most Loving, and Most Surprising Suitor of all... aka our Lord God of all humanity and creation. It is my job, you see.

Aunties will always be Aunties to me. And as the years pass since my divorce, their plaintive cries and pleading for me to marry again becomes more and more desperate sounding. "We will not live long..." They argue, "Get married while we can still help..." They plead with great earnest and sometimes even acting the Cupid, "If you don't have anyone... you know, my friend's daughter is a teacher / doctor / lawyer and ...." As they continue to press their kind help on helpless me.

Well, I do have a little someone. Indeed, if I have not met her I probably wouldn't even be blogging. And I hope to fulfill my aunties' frantic prayers one day soon. With a little help from God, of course - My One Constant Abiding Romance...

See. I can flirt with God too. It is easy, really.

Hehehe.

Pax Taufiqa. 

LIGHT UPON LIGHT AND THE INCREDIBLE EQUATION

Who were you?
O’ Taufiq,
What were you?
Who were you?
How could you ever be
Anything or anyone,
Before in your life,
I came to be?

O’ Taufiq,
What delight did you feel?
What sorrow did you drown in,
Before you ever knew Me?

Whatever you were,
Whoever you were,
It matters not.

Not now,
Not when you are
Finally with Me.

Your life,
And your memory
Begins now, o’ Taufiq,

With Me.

LOVELY RAIN. I was driving home through the wet streets of my neighbourhood. Just a couple of yards ahead on the left is my house. I am very happy that it rained this evening. My room faces the evening sun, and for a couple of days it felt like a sauna. I have an air-conditioner but it’s broken. I haven’t replaced it because I procrastinate. Tomorrow, I will say. Or next week. Or perhaps next month. So each night I am at the mercy of nature.

THE AC IS DECEASED. As I was driving with my friend, Munim made an observation. For I was exclaiming, “Alhamdulillah, it is raining!” Then I said, “Well, Munim, my air-cond may be kaput, but if it was working fine I would probably not feel as happy as I am right now. In response Munim nodded sagely, saying, “Yea, dude. Sometimes not having something permits you the privilege of experiencing happiness in a way not open to others who have that something.” Hmm. Then I guess I should count myself lucky that my AC is deceased. But I wonder if I will feel as blessed the next time the late evening sun turns my bedroom into an electric grill. It is the hardest test, and the easiest lesson in the world… for often I have heard a Master say that…

The Incredible Equation
Being Nothing (you) Makes the Appreciation of the Only True Something (your Lord) possible.

LIGHT UPON LIGHT. I guess another key to happiness is learning to play with our expectations. And to remember that life, like love, must be taken ‘as is’. True Love, the high Lamp in the firmament of Divine Mercies will give this to you, I think. But do not read this as fatalism. The only thing that will perish when you drink your cup of love is fear and uncertainty. ..

A CUP OF LIGHT
Pick up the Cup of Love and
Take that sip of Light, sunshine.
Drink and let begin your life and memories,
The ‘Light Upon Light’…and
The Inexplicable Mercies.

Two new prose in less than 24 hours. This is a rare thing. And the only thing more wonderful is the fact that you are reading it. Now that is truly the Lord’s gift to me.

Have a wonderful day, luvvies.

Pax Taufiqa

He Says She Says - Is it Love or is it Fairness?

He Says She Says
They say they want Love,
But they complain
When the food is too cold,
When she spend too long to get ready,
When he rather be with his buddies
Than spent the night watching Sex & the City.

They say they want Love,
But they complain
When he forgets to say I love you,
When she forgets to pay the bills,
When he laughs at her new hair do,
When she scoffs at his dreams.

They say they want Love,
But they complain
When she says she has a headache,
When he’s off to golf before daybreak,
When she thinks he’s putting too much weight
When he does nothing and simply says its ‘fate’.

They say they want Love,
But they complain
When she burns the soufflé in the oven,
When he says that mother belongs to a coven,
When he forgets to take out the garbage,
When her beauty starts to wither and age.

They say they want Love,
But they complain
When it feels like the affection is not equal,
When the feelings are not always mutual,
When they think they have given so much
And what they get is woefully little.

This is not Love they want…
What they want is Fairness.

Something to think about, sunshine. This thing called Love that we crave? It is more magnificent than mere fairness. Indeed, if everything is 'fair' there won't be any need for Love. or Patience. And what a dull life that would be, bereft of passion and patience.

Pax Taufiqa.

The Fruit Lady and the Lawyer

39. The Lament of Abu Bakar & Then Some
If only I was blade of rye,
About to be cut by a swing of the scythe.

If only I was lost and nameless,
Nothing even to my deceiving self.

Like a book unread,
Gathering dust on the shelf.

This is one of those poems which was posted earlier (Click Here - Anonymity in the Oneness of God, Abu Bakar, Mary and that Descartes Dude). I am a disorganised sinner. You must forgive me for posting a poem or prose one day, and sketching the accompanying drawing in another posting. If I am totally confusing you, trust me that it's totally unintentional.

MY FRUIT-LADY. Well, I am not nothing. I am me. And I bet you are not nothing too. I think that so long as we are not nothing, we gotta make something out of our un-nothingness. Whatever we are doing, we ought to be the best that we can be. Below my office is a fruit seller. A chinese lady who sells slices of guava, papaya, watermelon, jackfruit(sometimes), sour and sweet mangoes, pineapples and wintermelons. Her business model is simplicity itself. Slice the fruits into the appropriate sizes, keep them in a small plastic display with ice blocks to keep the fruits cool and fresh. Then wait for the customers to come. There is nothing to it. But I have been observing how she works. Minimum movements, maximum efficiency with no wasted action as she carefully slices and dices the watermelon with graceful practised strokes. A skill no doubt honed over years of diligence. She works beautifully and harmoniously.

LAWYER? I am a solicitor, and I wonder whether I can say the same about how I work. Do I look beautiful and harmonious too when I am crouched over a contract document? Hehehe. I bet I don't. I would like to one day. But until that day comes, I shall continue to observe and study the chinese lady with her small fruit stall.

Have a fruity day for me, pet.

Pax Taufiqa.

Abu Bakar, Muhammad, the Gunny Sack and Gabriel Part 1 - Origin of Whirling

55. Attachments, expectations and satisfaction
Without attachment
There would be
No expectation.

Without expectation
There would be
No dissatisfaction.

But if you cannot be displeased,
Verily, you can never be pleased,
And was not Abu Bakar
Pleased with God?

So have attachments and expectations,
For that state is demanded of you.

Say... though you find
It difficult still to believe, that...

"I have no expectations but God,
And Muhammad is the
Messenger of my Expectation."

"I have no attachment but God,
And Muhammad is the
Messenger of my Attachment."

THE WHIRLING. It is one story that the Sufis whirl because Abu Bakar whirled. And this is how (it is said) to have happened...

HE GAVE AWAY EVERYTHING. When the Meccans arrived in Medina, the Prophet organised a Baitul Mal (Public Treasure) to provide assistance to the Muhajirins (Literally 'the Immigrants' - meaning the Meccans who followed the Prophet to Medina to escape the persecution by the Quraish in Mecca). Answering the call of Muhammad, the Ansars (Literally "the Helpers" - meaning the local Medinans who are providing support and shelter to the Muhajirins) and Muhajirins both donated whatever they could afford from their wealth or poverty. But above all was Abu Bakar, who donated beyond what he could afford, even down to the clothes on his back. So on that auspicious day, Abu Bakar, most close companion to Muhammad Beloved of God, literally had nothing, not even the clothes on his back.

THE GUNNY SACK AND THE ANGELS. But he can't stay hidden indoors forever, and he wanted to meet the Prophet. So alone in the little house that accommodated him, Abu Bakar happily found some ragged gunny sack and had the bright idea of stitching up some robe or cloth that he may be able to wear. He was unaware that as he commenced his sewing, he was being watched from afar. A congregation of Angels earlier saw him donating everything he ever had, and they were awed by his selfless generosity, "Oh what glorious soul, oh what magnificent specimen of mankind..." they intoned. "What is he doing now?" they puzzled, "Where is he going?" they asked. "He is going to see the Prophet, Muhammad, my brethren...", someone amongst the angelic audience said. "Then he cannot walk alone! Someone amongst us must accompany him!" - the host of God were in a state of high agitation.

GABRIEL AS HIS COMPANION. Suddenly a voice rang out, "I shall accompany Abu Bakar, my brethren." It was the Archangel Gabriel. The rest of the angels silently agreed (Well, who's going to argue with the Boss Angel?).

Abu Bakar was satisfied after he put on his newly stitched gunny-attire. At the very least, I am decently dressed, he thought to himself. He then left the house, but not long in walking he was suddenly accosted by a man, also wearing a similar gunny-sack-cloth. The man (who was in fact Gabriel the Archangel, Herald of the Holy Revelations) inquired gently of Abu Bakar, "Kind sir, where are you going?"Abu Bakar replied, "I am on my way to see Muhammad, Prophet of God". The man then asked whether he could accompany Abu Bakar, to which he consented.

THE QUESTIONS. After awhile, the pair arrived at the Prophet's home and was led to his presence. Abu Bakar was settling down when the his companion suddenly asked the Prophet, "O'Rasulullah (Prophet of God), who is this man?" gesturing to Abu Bakar who looked a little astonished. The Prophet replied, "He is my closest friend, Abu Bakar." The man then said, "O' Rasulullah, ask him, if he is pleased with God." Muhammad addressed his childhood friend, "O' Abu Bakar, you heard his question. Are you pleased with God?" Abu Bakar stood up and replied, "O' Rasulullah, I am ever so pleased with God and what He has granted me, Alhamdulillah!(Praise be to God!)"

GOD'S REPLY. The man acknowledged Abu Bakar's answer and said, "Tell him, o' Rasulullah, that I am Gabriel, and God sends His Greetings of Salam (Peace) to Abu Bakar." Muhammad the Mercy of the Worlds, then turned to Abu Bakar smiling and said, "O' Abu Bakar, God Himself sends greetings of Salam unto you!"

ABU BAKAR WHIRLS. Carried by an overwhelming feeling of happiness, his heart ablaze with God's greetings of peace and entwined by pleasure, Abu Bakar then started to whirl, with his right hand raised and open to receive the blessings of this Divine Pleasure, and his left hand open and extended to pass on the rahmat and baraka (blessings) to the assembled companions, and now today, to me and you as you read this.

Thank you for sharing your time with me, sunshine. I am so happy to share this story with you.

Pax Taufiqa.

My Father is Straight And Sometimes Even Roger Federer Sucks.

A SMALL GIFT FROM PATER. Last week, my father went to the 50th Anniversary party of a close friend. When myself and Heche went to pick him up we noticed he was carrying a party pack full of goodies. This morning as I was getting ready for work he suddenly pass to me 3 tiny booklet (in velvet brown covers) which turned out to be the Surah Yaasin (one of the most oft-recited chapter of the Holy Quran), the Asmaa ul-Husnaa (the 99 names of God) and a Collection of short prayers. None of his best friends would say that my father is especially religious, being the sort of guy more concerned with life and the living (after all, he’s a doctor). But in his earlier retirement years, I did notice that he was reading a book about philosophy (for dummies!) and other assortment of brain-breaking books. Of late however he has given up on those tiresome tomes and prefers to watch tennis on TV or taking his grandchildren out for meals. I am glad, because to be frank I would rather he enjoy his retirement as best as he can and leave the heavy reading to us (meaning me and my elder brother, Saiful).

MY FATHER IS STRAIGHT. My father is a straight man. I am not saying anything about his sexual inclination or his participation in a comedic act - it’s just he’s plain honest. Painfully honest at times and not the sort to mince his words. As a result he used to inevitably step on people’s egos in his old days heading the Ministry and later in the banking sector. But he never actually meant to hurt anyone’s feeling, it’s just that his standard of duty and dedication has (sadly) gone out of trend and often conflicts with the rather easy-going who-cares attitude prevalent in our society nowadays. He says it as he sees it, you know.

SHORT-FUSED? My father has a short-fuse and the world (or God, if you wanna say that) is playing with him. It’s as if the more my dad blows his top over some small niggling irritation (traffic jam, misunderstanding at the cashier, misplacing his cellphone), the more fate tests him with these petty annoyances. My brother noticed that nothing ever goes wrong when he alone goes to pay the utility bills (for instance), but on any given day when he has to bring my father, then without fail some silly contretemps (“... But can you EXPLAIN to me the bill item HERE!”) would occur and my father would get mightily pissed. Hehehe.

FEDERER! Maybe ‘short-fused’ is the wrong adjective to call the good doctor. Maybe ‘passionate’ is the better description – One night, our maid was woken by screams of anguish and pain reverberating from our living room. It sounded like my dad and it was in the early hours of the morning, so rightfully she was panicked. She rushed out to the living room and cautiously peeked. It was my dad alright, but he was in no pain (unless you call it emotional pain), he was just watching Roger Federer on TV losing in a tennis match. My father was simply expressing his disappointment at Federer’s poor performance.

"YOUR MOTHER…" On the rare occasion when I am with him shopping, my father would often reminisce about my late mother - “Ah, your mum loved this vegetable”… “She really liked to eat the noodle at this shop here”…”Mamma came back from Jerusalem with boxes of cabbages and pumpkins, saying she just didn’t know what else to buy.” My dad misses my mother in so many ways, I think.

Well, that’s my dad. Never a dull moment. Does he read this blog? He is techno-shy, but recently he did indicate interest in a laptop, so later perhaps. In the meantime, why don’t we keep this little posting between the two of us, sunshine. Hehehe.

Our fathers are quite something, aren’t they? God bless them!

Pax Taufiqa

The Straight Path, Womankind, the Coke Bottle, Valentine's Day and Love

The path is straight.

But the journey is full of bends and turns.

For the journey to God is like getting to know a woman.

It is a way of corners, curves and turnings.

God bless Sarah mother of Isaac!

God bless Hajar mother of Ismail!

God bless Mary mother of Jesus!

God bless Aminah mother of Muhammad!

God bless all our mothers, sisters and daughters!

Oh women, you are mysterious and lovely.

And in your hands you hold our hearts captive and besotted!

When our grandfather Adam was asleep, how by God was Eve created?!

Through you, may our willful self and ego be cheated!

Grace in abundance, creation walking in munificence with a halo that makes heavenly lamps flicker!

An arrow speeding to my heart from a Cherubim's quiver.

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VALENTINE'S DAY. There is a small ruckus in my country about Valentine's day. It is not a big ruckus, because we Malays tend to avoid being busybodies. But there is of course a noisy minority representing the political Islam activists. They are harrumphing and agonising in the media about how Valentine's Day promotes adultery and is a Christian event. I am glad the Christians woke up and in the Star newspaper reported that "The Christian Federation of Malaysia has stressed that Valentine’s Day is a secular observance which Roman Catholics and Protestants do not commemorate as a religious festival. Its chairman Bishop Ng Moon Hing said Christians in Malaysia were hurt by statements made which linked Valentine’s Day to sins and Christianity."

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Rightfully, the main argument if you desire, is that Valentine's Day is a rather shallow and mega-commercialised social event that makes florists and confectioners happy. I do not think that any kid even know of the historical / mythical origin about St. Valentine and his day.

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THE RELIGION OF LOVE. The fact of the matter is that all people concerned with the health of their religion is utterly convinced that the commercialisation of religious festivities is a bad trend. Valentine's Day (assuming it is one), is just one of many examples of galloping commercialisation of faith. And no religion has escaped this appalling consumerism virus. I say this is true even if your religion is the faith of Love.

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COKE. The Coca-Cola bottle picture is of course a visual reference to the famous bottle's shape which is often commented as depicting the female form. It is drawn by this rather talented artist Mark T. Woodland (Click Here).

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But I do not wish to be a complete party-pooper, so if you are celebrating with your love today, Happy Valentine's Day, sunshine. But alas, Love gives us no rest - and He is celebrated every day, with every breath that we inhale and exhale. Ya Huuuu!

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Pax Taufiqa

Instrument of the Devil, Impatience, Saintly Clerks and Me

AT THE DENTIST. I am not a patient man, but there is however one situation where I am not just patient, literally I am PATIENCE itself. As a paragon of consideration and compromise, I turn into a statue of perseverance at my dentist. Every atom of my being suddenly patient, transforming me into an inert life form – a barely sentient glob of flesh and blood in the dental dungeon. I am NEVER IN A HURRY when I am at the dental clinic. In fact I am never in a hurry to get to a dental clinic. You know… all those contretemps and happenstances that causes you to delay or postpone your dental appointment. Suddenly, you have to paint your room, suddenly, you have to reorganize your shoe rack. You know, riiiight? And in such cases, I never bitch or complain about having to postpone seeing my dentist – “Not available this week? Gee whiz! Never mind, maybe in 3 month’s time? No? Dr. Rachel can see me sooner? But WHY? Really I don’t mind at all, I know she has a busy practice… Perhaps sometime next year? Hello? Hello?”

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RED MIST. Despite my numerous postings about patience, I am probably the most impatient man in Malaysia. I can become an ogre when the red mist of rage washes over my eyes - Especially when I am alone and there is no company to calm me down.

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INSTRUMENT OF THE DEVIL. I remember when I first started practicing as a lawyer in 2000. In those days, me and my partner did mostly conveyancing work (real estate sale and transfer), which inevitably requires dealings with the Land Office. And in those days we were still typing on Land Office forms, as not many departments have digitized their documents. I remember coming to the office one Saturday, with 24 (yes, Twenty Four!) blank Memorandum of Transfer Form to be typed out for a conveyancing file. Of course, I just need one form to be typed, but knowing my very limited typing skill, I thought 2 dozen is a good back-up in case I mess-up typing a form. For you see, in those days you are not permitted to use correction ink. And no rubbing with the eraser too. Surely, I was being over-cautious, I thought.

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Well, as it turned out, I managed (barely) to type the 24th form correctly, after 2 hours of bedlam and 23 copies of typing failures. If you walked into the office at that time, you would see a sea of torn crumpled papers strewn around the feet of a mad lawyer, his hair disheveled, his eyes probably cross-eyed and crazy-looking. To be honest, if it weren’t for the busy road under my office (which was on the 3rd floor), I would have thrown the typewriter out of the window.

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I don't go crazy with typewriters anymore. Now I leave it to the infinite patience of my clerks. The girls are amazing, and I am ever in awe of their patience - So young, yet so wise. What I write about, they live...

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7. Patience, that Beautiful Steed!
Patience! O’ Lord,
Of such things that will help me,
Help me attain this!
Patience in happiness and sorrow,
Patience in wealth and poverty,

Patience,
Graceful and most loved,
That beautiful steed ridden
By Your Prophet and Friends!

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Have a nice day, sunshine! May you find patience however you may be tested.

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Pax Taufiqa.

True Love, Humble Pie and Other Assorted Troubles

Field of Love
I do not understand why,
Now in my 39th year,
Am I called to bear arms
Once again, in the Field of Love.

Many have fought here,
And many have died here,
Breathing their last gasp,
"O' Love, Thou art near!"

Many have struggled,
With Love's hows, whos and whys,
And in the night I can still see them,
Twinkling like stars high up in the sky.

INDECISION AT LOVE'S DOOR. In early 2009 I wrote the above poem. I was tempted, you see, by the opportunity to love again after almost 2 years of singlehood. For a long time I paused and pondered in front of Heche's door, a statue of indecision, turned into stone by the eternal questions - “Shall I? Shan’t I? Shall I? Shan’t I?” And I guess that was it not for an intervention by Fate you would probably still find me there, harrumphing and sighing, “Shall I? Shan’t I?” in front of love's door. Well, Fate intervened and I entered her domain… Not knowing what lie behind its beautiful door. It didn’t take me long to find out…

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EAT YOUR HUMBLE-PIE AND ENJOY IT! I think that love can also be defined as the opportunity to consume endless trays of humble-pie. I blame Heche for my weight increase, which can be attributed to my high-fat, high-cholesterol diet of humble-pies that I am forced to consume - Because, my friends, when it comes to humble-pies, Love is an extremely busy baker! Oh, boy, this pie sure is yummy!

TRUE LOVE. There is this story about the Prophet – One day, a man approached the Prophet and he said, “O’ Prophet of God, I love God and I love you!” The Prophet feigned to have not heard him. Again, the man said, “O’ Prophet of God, I love God and I love you!”. This time, the Prophet turned to him and said to the man, “Don’t say that.”

For the third time, this stubborn man said, “O’ Prophet of God, I love God and I love you!”. The Prophet gazed at him, smiled and replied, “If so, prepare for trouble to come unto you like a sudden flood rushing down a mountainside!”

I think there is a clear analogy between the Prophet's story and Love’s Door. Love – whether love for God, Prophet and Saints, familial love, or love between friends, or even a romance between a man and a woman, it is not something merely to be spoken or written – Love must be exhibited – and Love must be tested. It is therefore the opening poem of the Sinner’s Almanac above that I actually wrote more than 7 years ago…

118. Teasing
What is love without a little teasing,
A little sorrow, a little pain,
A little drought before the rain,
A little sting, a little bleeding,
A little snowfall before spring. .

Who am I to talk of love? I am after all, a poor practitioner of this eternal art. But I have hope in you, sunshine. That you shall continue to be a true lover, learning such tips as the Most Beloved may show you, in whatever disguise that He may come to you in your life. I believe He is near you, always. For you are much too beautiful to be left alone, don’t you know? But remember, in the domain of love you gotta eat your humble-pie and enjoy it!

Tomorrow is Thaipusam day. For my Hindu brethren who celebrate this holy day, I bid you a gracious and fulfilling Thaipusam.

Pax Taufiqa.

Related Posting - The Mystery of God, True Love and the Rose of Infinite Petals

Mika Mr. Big Heart, How to Recognise a Saint, and Being Saintly

Driving through a wealthy neighbourhood one day, Mika observed, “Wow, Papa, these houses are HUGE!”

I am not poor. I am okay. But in my life, we have seen happy people living in a tiny house, and I have seen frustrated and sad souls surrounded by all the luxuries that this life can offer. I know of an elderly woman, who travels from one family home to another, with no fixed address or house to call her own, but who has the clarity of mind greater than someone half her age. She is beloved wherever she minds to stay.
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Along that point, I said to Mika in response to his observation, “Mika, if you live in a small house but have a big heart, you are okay. On the other hand, if you live in a big house but have a small heart, you are in trouble.” He was quiet and thoughtful, so I asked him, “What about you, do you have a big heart?”

“Papa, I have the biggest heart!”, he responded excitedly.

I queried my son further, “And how come you have a big heart?”

He turned to me and said with great serious-ity, “Because I never give up, Papa.”

I was struck by Mika’s reply, as I anticipated his stock answer, which would be “Oh, because God and Nabi Muhammad is in my heart, Papa.” Mika’s words takes me back a couple of months ago when I bumped into Nun Tuck’s blog. The very first posting which I came across was one entitled “Saints are sinners who keep on trying.” Click here to read this wonderful article.

You can be a bona fide saint or you can be plain old saintly. You can try to be a saint if you want, but I know of no saint who actually wants to be a saint. It is a 24/7 job with parallel responsibilities running along the different dimensions and pseudo-worlds. On top of that, as a de jure Saint, you have to deal with the appalling manners and constant bleating of sinners like me...
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10. Blue Mosque
Someone has given me
Sinan’s building plans,
Though I know not
How to even build up a sweat.

Someone has given me
The key to Baghdad’s library,
Though I lie easily,
So whatever is learnt is easily forgotten.

Someone has brought me
To the attention of a Master,
Though when I was in school,
I was indifferent.
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So why not be saintly, my friend? Just keep on trying and don't give up (on sinners like me).

Pax Taufiqa.

Footnote: ‘Blue Mosque’ is from Chapter 4, ‘The Eighteen Verses’. First picture is of Mika and his cousin, Aqil attending a thursday night God-remembering (Dzikr) function.

Love - The Governing Light, A White Fire

O’ Governing Light!

O’ Governing Fire!

White Fire!

The Governing Love,

Beyond passions

That poets use to sprout wings and fly,

Beyond happenstances,

That lovers use to breach the peace!

Love that governs,

Love the ministers,

Love that guides.

Tis’ sweet beyond

The drunken ribald

Of minstrels such as I!

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From chapter 26, "Stay Clear"

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Pax Taufiqa