DON'T BLINK! ...passengers waiting at the terminal of life

Don't Blink!

Don't mind me,

I am just passing through,

Don't mind me,

I am just passing by,

Don't save a seat for me,

Don't sign that freehold,

I am not stopping here forever,

Nothing will stop us from 

Growing old,

For I am just passing through,

A traveler in my life's winter,

All dressed to face the cold,

Waiting to drink the bitter,

A traveler passing by,

Suddenly out of the door,

If you but blink an eye

Here, in my life's winter... 

So don't think. my child,

Love and do not blink.

..................... 

It is futile to seek permanence in this reality. For this world is in truth a departure terminal. Undoubtedly, it is a beautiful place to be, with all sorts of distractions on offer, but we cannot deny that upon the instance of our birth, we already have our boarding pass for that return flight to our Creator.

I guess the apparent regularity of death in my life, among my friends, family members and my masters,, has turned my mind towards the inevitable question  - I hope my destination at the end of that not-to-be-delayed flight will be the same.

For I love them so, and I miss them so. And with them is where I want to be. I figure that you too have witnessed the passing of your loved ones, sunshine. And perhaps like me, you also now tend to look at the wares and products on offer in the terminal of this life with less attention and passion. Not because we love life less, no, it is not that at all...

It is only because life has an end, do we realise how precious it is. 

Thus by the infinite, do we comprehend the value of the finite...

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

THE MEANINGS OF AS-SALAMU ALAYKUM & THE GARDEN BEFORE THE GARDEN - The Ramadan Story, Part 17

I don't need your salam! Go awaaay...!!!

The Ego's Salam

As-salamu alaykum!

I am a Muslim!

As-salamu alaykum!

I am about to say something

Rather important and heavy here!

Hey you!

Did you not hear?

I said As-salamu alaykum!

Listen and pay attention to me!

I am about to divulge information

Of great serious-ity!

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

3 Meanings. People use words in all sorts of different ways, as my brother likes to say. And this is the same regardless of what words they are. My brother was mentioning this yesterday in the context of the greeting most used by the Muslims, which is As-salamu alaykum, meaning (as generally accepted) 'Peace be upon you'. Most people of course knows this, but perhaps we can go a little further. 

This beautiful greeting is recorded in the al-Quran in context of the Angels coming to greet the believers who have successfully endured the trials and tribulation of this life to receive the Pleasure from Allah (s.w.t.) in a number of connected verses of Chapter 13. In the 23rd, the Angels are...

(Saying) : Peace be unto you because ye persevered. Ah, passing sweet will be
the sequel of the (heavenly) Home. (Quran 13:23, Marmaduke Pickthall)

1. The Angelic Affirmation of Human Perseverance, Prophetic Intercession and Divine Compassion. When the Angels thus spoke, the greeting is their affirmation of what has come to pass for you - a celestial garden of joy and pleasure for you. An eternal abode for the patience that you have shown in your devotion, and ultimately, submission to what God had bequeathed you in this world. All the smiles and tears, all the success and failures, all the laughter and sorrow that make up our life, each and every single day we are here. But of course this cannot happen, the Muslims believe, by our efforts alone. Above our struggle is the divine intercessions of the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.), in answer to which is the unimaginable Mercy and Compassion of Allah (s.w.t.), He Who forever looks upon His creation through His infinite Ocean of Forgiveness.

2. The Beautiful Prayer. And as for us wingless non-Angels? One Grandshaykh describes the greeting as a prayer. And how beautiful is the prayer! - I am greeting you with brotherly love, and looking upon your graceful countenance, I am asking Allah (s.w.t.)... 

"O' my Lord! Let our discourse begin with peace and end with peace!

Grant unto him the peace that only You can give. 

Grant to us in our meeting the brotherly peace that only You can bestow, 

Grant us Your peace for our today and all our tomorrows."

Praying.

Whatever conversation that may transpire after that... be it about personal matters, about work, about money or health, isn't this a good beginning? May we always remember how we began!

3. The Ego's Salam or 'Overcome by the Gravity of the Situation'. And of course, humans are sometimes overcome by the brevity of the occasion - an example is when he/she is a politician / preacher about to begin some important religious or political sermon. Then he/she will say As-salamu alaykum in a heavy, serious and modulated tone... to accentuate that he/she is about to say something really, really important and that you had better pay attention.  He he he. 

My brother's view, and I agree with him, is - Oh come on, just get over yourself, will you? 

Salam to the Perfect World. So to conclude this meandering tale, we reckon that the best way to give salam is with a smile, a skip and a joyful hop, as if the world is perfect, that there is no hate or hubris, and the certainty that the Eternal Garden awaits us at the end of our journey through this world's garden of beautiful souls, inspired by the Inspired Mercy that is Muhammad Habibullah (s.a.w.s). For actually the world is perfect, isn't it? Would Allah (s.w.t.) have given us an imperfect abode, even if it is only temporary?

Dunya, The Perfect Fascmile

Peace be unto thee, o' Dunya,

If you are transient, You are perfectly transient,

If you are illusory, You are perfectly illusory,

If you are a fascimile, You are the perfect fascimile,

And I shall take you as my beautiful abode,

The Garden before the Garden,

If only for a while.

Also praying.

43 years old, and only just starting to learn how to say As-salamu Alaykum. I am a late-bloomer, what other excuse can I give?

But you will forgive this old sinner, won't you, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

MALAYSIA ELECTION 2013 - don't be a fence-sitter... DOWN with the fence!

Dear old Mikhail, borrowing an umbrella, after a
Cukur Jambul ceremony for my partner Alex's youngest
newborn son, Siddi. Like myself, he is apolitical and does not
subscribe to any political ideologies (or umbrellas). 

Election Fever. Last Thursday a friend asked me, "So which party do you support? Or are you a fence-sitter?" He is asking me this question because of two reasons - Firstly, he knows of my discontent about our country's present political system of representative democracy, a template which was handed down to us when we obtained independence in 1957. And secondly, it is because this coming Sunday the whole of Malaysia shall be queuing at the polling stations to vote in this country's 13th General Election. With 579 candidates vying for 222 parliamentary seats and 1,321 chasing 505 state seats, and an expected high voter turn-out rate, this is one of the most anticipated election in our recent history.

Cukur Jambul involves a ceremonial cutting of
the newborn's first lock of hair, preceded with
prayers for Sidi and his deceased relatives. While
the guests cut Sidi's hair (little bits only), his proud
grandmother along with her nasyid group sang
the Marhaban, songs welcoming and praising
Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) Later there is food for all.

Fence-destroyer. I remember being stumped to answer. Which party do I support? And if I support none, am I a fence sitter? But then again, why need there be only two possible answers? There is perhaps a third possible reply, and it was the one I chose. I said, "Bro... I support no party, but I am no fence-sitter. In fact it is my fervent hope to destroy that damn fence."

Anarchist me? He he he. My reply makes me sound like an Anarchist. But I don't think I am, because Anarchists are often secular and all about destroying the old system, old ways and prejudices, to bring in the new. My like-minded friends are the opposite of Anarchists, for they are concerned with addressing modern problems brought about by 'new things' such as democracy, the usurious fiat (paper) money and global banking system. We are also much worried about the over-weening power of global corporations, the plague (yes, plague) of bio-tech revolution which is affecting the precious bio-diversity and fine balance of our natural environment. All this is new, a 21st century problem. But the solutions we seek are ancient solutions, in the living pages of the Holy Quran, and in the living story of the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.), as guided by our Masters. We always have this qualifier in our statements because, to be honest here, we are not the brightest people around, nor the most virtuous. We need our saints to hold our hand.

And what is the cure? 

Almost ten years ago I recorded a prose about the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s) and about walls and roads. The first part of the prose, which is the one that concerns us, goes like this...

The Roadbuilder

I build roads,

Not walls.

For my message

Is peace,

Not war...

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

Poor Siddi yawning. It's his sleep time now (daytime). He spends his nights keeping
his parents awake. Ergo, I often find his dad blinking away half-awake in the office.
On the day of the Cukur Jambul there was good merriment and gratitude.
Politics were forgotten, and the true important things in life celebrated -
Our family, our friends, in the Grace of God Almighty
and Muhammad Habibullah (s.a.w.s.)

The Message of Adab. The sublime Prophetic message of Muhammad (s.a.w.) touches all mankind. And it is essentially a message of Adab (good manners). For though we may differ in our ideologies and creed, if everyone is willing to treat one another with high Adab, there would be no need for all this fear-mongering, bickering, backstabbing, betrayal and slandering - the common weapons of choice in this election thus far. Often now we find in both the mainstream media and the new social media public comments and postings which are either insulting, or at best condescending and sanctimonious. Sometimes, I would like to ask them, "Who died and made you right?"

The Fence. So however attracted you are to any party's slogan or promises, don't build your fences too high until you find it so difficult to understand the other side's point of view. Are we not all human and do we not all err and in perpetual in need of God's forgiveness? Who is to say we are right or wrong? Or whether we are on the right side or the wrong side of an argument?

Tall Fences

Come to your senses,

My would-be martyrs!

And rely not on man-made borders

That keep outsiders outside!

For today you may be within,

Come tomorrow you may be without...

Then we shall see how well you fare

Clambering up your proud fences

Built tall and fair

With your incessant and foul pretenses...

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

Wahhabism. We are also concerned with the persistent influence of Wahhabism in Malaysia, that strange extremist off-shoot of Islam, propagated with the sword and oil-money from the Middle-east. And the worrying trend of the two dominant 'Islamic' parties (PAS and UMNO) in Malaysia flirtation with the Wahhabi-centric political clerics and celebrity ustaz (religious teachers). Wahhabis are expert fence builders, and have a nasty habit of declaring people who disagree with them as apostates. Anyone who flirts with such people are flirting with spiritual poison.

I used to vote back in the days when candidates and their supporters, of whatever race, creed or political affiliation used to have decent manners. This year I shall not vote and continue to prop up these political fences that divide the people of Malaysia. Why should I when every election cycle seems to bring out the worst in many people? If my fellow Malaysians vote this coming Sunday, I wish them well, and hope that however you may mark the ballot paper, it does not colour your perception of the Oneness of God and the Mercy of His Prophet.

Madad (support us) ya Saydeena Muhammad (s.a.w.s.). Lead us back to our traditional good adab as exemplified by you, best of creation and God's own appointed Mercy to all the Worlds, for the sake of all humanity. The ringing song of Marhaban... marhaban... marhaban lingers in my heart still.

No party colours here. Just thirsty seekers looking for the Nur  (Light).

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

PLAYGROUND OF THE SOUL - chance encounter with a servant of Peace

Playground of the Soul

This is not just a mosque,

This is no mere house of worship...

This is a playground of the soul,

A garden of the spirit

To seed and till your happiness...

This is where you will see flowers

Rise, bloom and fall

In all hours of the day, 

Enchanted by the Lord's heavenly call.

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

Last night, as I was making my way to intercept young Ustaz Malik (the man with the golden voice), I was suddenly waylaid by an elderly gentleman. He introduced himself as Abdul Salam (Servant (Abdul) of He Who is the Source of Peace, Safety and Perfection (Salam, one of the Divine Names of God)). 

Being the forgetful dummy that I am, I cannot recall his face although he says that he has seen me around our neighbourhood. When we embraced I felt a burning warmth when his cheek touched mine. In my fanciful retrospection, I felt that it was the warmth of love.

So nothing to report but the chance meeting with kindly affectionate strangers in the Playground of the Soul. 

Have a lovely day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

I Am Writing a Prose of Postures & Words - the Muslim Five

I Pray a Prose of Postures & Words

First it was a choice

And a passing fancy,

Secondly, it became an obligation

And a pious chore,

Then it became a choice once again

And I did as I pleased once more,

Before returning as an obligation

And a firm habit,

Then it became a part of history

That I am writing...

A prose of postures and words

Passed through the ages.

Now I claim to know nothing,

But take it all

A day at a time,

Five times a day,

From sunrise to sunset.

The Prophet once shared that of all things in this world, there are three which evokes his great affection... “Made beloved to me from your world are women and perfume, and the coolness of my eyes is in prayer.”

How fond I am of people who have found similar affections in their lives. There are undoubted meanings within meanings contained in the Prophet's traditions, but of the three, I am today curious about prayers. And this is what one man shared with me just a moment ago...

"Life is about perception, and in your perception you create and carry the world within you. From the moment you open your eyes until you close them for the last time, you bear the burden of your actions, and the actions of others in the world of your consciousness. The prayers obligated upon you is not for God's sake, but for your own sake - To rest awhile, to take stock of the past few hours, to lean against the Oneness of God in the Oneness of your intimacy. To turn away from the world but for a few moments to gaze upon the True Reality in your honoured state of servanthood, prostrating as you are, before the Utter Mastery of He Whom we all worship."

I asked him in response, "Have you felt so passionately in your prayers?" He laughed and replied ruefully, "If I did, do you think I would still be here? No, my friend, I am not 'there'. But the journey to get 'there' is beautiful. So I am thankful for what is granted now, and hopeful for what may be granted later."

May you find peace and tenderness in your own prayers, sunshine, however you may be praying to our One God.

Pax Taufiqa

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Fences, Saints and Feral Dogs

108. Tall Fences

Come to your senses

My would-be martyrs!

And rely not on man-made borders

That keep outsiders out,

For today you may be within

Come tomorrow you may be without.

Then we shall see how well you fare

Clambering up your proud fences

Built tall and fair

With your incessant and foul pretences.

Marx was right. Religion is often the opiate of the masses, not being the fault of the religion itself. Today religion can be an olive branch, but tomorrow it may be an assault rifle. Religion grows the form of what the man holds within. If he is ruled by his heart and conscience, he will be dressed in his heart and conscience, and whatever he does will permeate with love, mercy, kindness, delicacy, patience, tolerance and empathy. If he is ruled by his ego, his action will often reflect the hate, hubris, envy, jealousy, bitterness, despair and sorrow that he nurses within.

We are our worst enemy. For my own religion, I see a defining group who has the habit of labeling what is Islamic and Unislamic. They meander through the body and society politic, delivering judgments with their words and eyes. No, they are not the politicians and preachers only. They are also us, we ourselves who in our daily lives often judge people. Questioning the veracity of their spirit and soul. But who questions the questioners? Such people often build up fences, saying, "We are the right ones. You are the wrong ones." But who's to say that is true? Already they are wrong, for acting without etiquette, which is the essence of the Adab (good manners) of Islam.

Love. Both good and evil has its pretences. If you want to be good, leave the pretences of piety and goodness behind. Stay awhile here with me, on earth where both saints and sinners can mix, do not deny that we are imperfect in so many ways, and that only common empathy and compassion stands between our peace and the war of feral dogs. It is raining now, so you see... even the sky agrees with me.

Have a perfect Sabbath and xmas, sunshine. And happy solstice too!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Responsibilities of Husband and Wife

37. Responsibilities of husband and wife

It is sometimes said that

The responsibility of

A husband is greater than

The responsibility

Of the wife.

But how heavy is

The wife’s responsibility

To accept the husband

When she thinks

He is wrong

In his responsibilities?

O’ Adam,

Make it not difficult

For Hawa to perform her duties,

O’ Hawa,

Make is not difficult

For Adam to perform his duties,

And verily,

In the Lord of Adam and Hawa

You will find eternal recompense

For what patience both of you show!

I am not married. I once was, and I have a son to prove for it. My client jokingly likes to call me 'recycled goods'. I myself used to refer to myself as 'damaged' with 'reasonable wear and tear'. But I think I am neither. I am just me, one of many hundreds of million or perhaps billion of souls out there hoping one day for an opportunity to marry.

I hope to be a good husband one day. As you too perhaps hope to be a good hubby or wife. It is not the easy path, but if you choose this way, then I wish you all the best and may you find the wisdom and patience to gain the eternal recompense of the Lord of Adam and Eve. I am thinking about all this because within this one year, a bushel of friends are planning to get hitched. Jolly exciting stuff!

God bless you, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa.

Dead Camel and Dhab Lizard, Guava and Zam-Zam - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 25

I cannot remember who the manufacturer is... but someone should buy the ice cream making machine (it is the same Italian-made machine in all the shops) and bring it to Malaysia! The smoothness of the ice cream is miraculous. Each scoop brought me closer to the Divine Presence. Ya Huuu!



Camel balls and Camel ding-dongs. Well, they are made from camel anyway. Quite nice.



A Camel lost his heart somewhere. Very good if you suffer from asthma. Not very good for the dead camel. How does it taste like? It tastes like rubber. Chew a balloon and the taste is similar.



And this is the famous Dhab (desert lizard). It did not come cheap so some of the boys chipped in to buy it. Even before the pilgrimage, Ariffin was singing praise of this Arabian delicacy, so obviously I was very tempted. I had some and this was what I told him later, "Bro, it doesn't taste like chicken at all. If I was to imagine how lizard meat would taste like, then this is exactly how it tastes like!" But to be fair, Dhab is eaten mainly because it is said to have medicinal properties.

From this into the stew pot.

And into a small bottle. Dhab oil is normally purchased by men for their medicinal properties. I am sure you understand.

It is not all dead animals we ate in Mecca. I ate lots of fruits too. I became especially fond of a small version of our Guava fruit. It is soft, green-yellowy and is sweet and savoury. Just writing this now makes me drool. I ate baskets of it when I was in the Holy City.



Arjuna is the sort of fellow who can charm the hind leg of a donkey. We were at this shop earlier, and to gain his goodwill, Arjuna allowed the salesman to go through his photo album in his Blackberry. The guy was actually from Myanmar. He was disappointed that Arjuna had zero naughty hottie pictures but we parted as friends. Later during lunch we passed by the shop again. It was closed and the salesman was having his enormous mound of briani rice and grilled chicken. He saw us and immediately called and opened the shutters. Arjuna, being the gentleman, did not take much coaxing to join him for lunch. I love Mecca.



To show you that I DID NOT spend my entire time in Mecca just satisfying my physical appetite, I did visit the Masjidil Haram a couple of times to fulfill a different sort of appetite. And of course, when you are there, you must drink some of the Zam-Zam water, the blessed water from the well originating from the time of the Prophet... and even longer before that. How does it taste like? Well, err... like water, but a little heavy. I don't know how else to describe it. If you are nearby my office, drop by. I still have a large container of the stuff.

Thank God it's Friday, sunshine. And thank you for dropping in.

Pax Taufiqa.

There Is No Compulsion In Religion, the Carpet Salesman said... in 1300 A.D.

Sometime in 1300 AD (or earlier perhaps), a group of Muslim traders travelled to the Malay Archipelago. These men brought incense, carpets, spices, jewelleries, trinkets, dates, other dried fruits, as well as their belief in one God. It was no plain sailing. To get here they had to resort to desperate measures... especially when there is a storm at sea and a sail is lost. Fortunately they always had one fat Sufi and his baggy pants. So I dreamt, and this was what I drew some years back...

I have no doubt that the travellers were a motley bunch. Some were young and impetuous, others elderly and learned. There were undoubtedly also a smattering of no-gooders, conmen and sinners amongst the crew and traders. On the whole, these intrepid guys found the natives - my ancestors, very charming and not terribly savage. To put it succinctly as one Englishman who came much later observed, 'The people are nature's gentlemen' (kinda vague, I know... but it sounds like a compliment).

The newcomers didn't hardsell their religion which they called Islam. They didn't stand on a barrell and started admonishing and scolding my ancestors for drinking... for pirating... for having almost no sense of punctuality... for dressing less modestly... Well, generally for being themselves. After all, according to these Muslim merchants, there is no compulsion in religion. These Muslims were tolerant and understanding, you see. They are not the judgmental busybodies we have now maligning our society. In Fonzie's term, these guys are what he would call "Cool".

But slowly and surely, they started to become familiar to the natives until finally, they were accepted as a part of the community. Things were coasting along fine this way, until one fateful day, a village elder, chieftan or Raja must have approached the smarter looking of the traders and asked, "Now... Tell me about your religion."

And the rest, as they say, is history.

This is my posting of appreciation to these galant merchants, these lovable rogues and learned saints that sailed into this region and brought with them the Love of the Prophet and the Light of God. They are not like some Muslims these days who cannot even stand the sight of an uncovered woman in the compound of the mosque. For these people, these saints... the world is a mosque, so how can you choose who to prohibit from entering a divine commune with God? They remember and live by the ethos of Muhammad, who was once heard to say...

“This (whole) world was given unto me as a mosque, holy and pure.”

Have a beautiful day, sunshine, and thank you for dropping by my little almanac.

Pax Taufiqa.

The Sinner and the Devil's Henchman called Auto-Formatting

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!

IRONY OF LIFE. I have been taking too much iron tablets, I think. I write a lot about the virtues of Patience. Be patient, I say. Do not get angry, I counsel my betters. The truth is it would be difficult for you to find someone more impatient than me.

THE HATEFUL WORLD OF AUTO-FORMAT. And this is especially evident when I am writing. Oh, I start well, my friends, feeling 'the love' for my fellow humans, contented and at peace with the world. So evident of sweet sentiment, I would commence my writing on this blog. Then, for some inexplicable reason (Oh, I am sure anyone acquainted with HTML, can explain. But I am a lawyer, you see) blogspot's autoformating starts to interpret my writing differently from how I write and commences to auto-format my paragraphs.

I AM NOT WYSIWYG - Now the tragedy unfolds as the blog editing engine insists on saying that I have set a paragraph and 5 line spacing between the paragraphs, when it is patently not my intention. And when I click on the 'preview' button, it changes my text from a tidy 20 liner, into a 60 liner with huge empty spaces between the paragraphs and pictures - making my blog look ugly and unprofessional. Just like me, the blogspot engine is not 'What You See Is What You Get".

"L!O!V!E!", he typed FURIOUSLY. And after spending maybe just 30 minutes to write, I would end up wasting another 40 minutes trying to get the blog formatting right. Then the cursing and swearing under my breath would begin... I will be typing words like "L.O.V.E.", "Patience" "God's Divine Grace" and "Peace..." and hitting my poor laptop's keyboard with the opposite sentiment, impatience, anger and my frustration with this blog's editing engine boiling over.

So every blog I write becomes a test of my ego and anger. Hehehe. And boy, how often I fail! But today the editing engine appears to be feeling contented and friendly. Thank God!

Have a patient day, sunshine. Don't be like me.

Pax Taufiqa.

Contemplation in the Garden of Stones & Silence

11. Garden of Stone, Peringgit
I struck out from my party
And headed to the Garden of Stones,
There I sang, knowing the inhabitants were listening.
Upon returning, my brother asked,
“You went to the cemetery just now,
What did you bring back?”
I smiled, not knowing what to say,

A little later do I realise;
That for the price of a poorly rendered song,
I returned with greetings of peace
From the people of the Garden, all kind and wise.

I am fond of cemeteries. Many years ago, I was working downtown, and behind the tall office block and hotel was an old cemetery. During lunch time, I would sometimes wander around the graves of the common and prominent. The poem above doesn't recall such event, but rather a specific cemetery in the state of Melaka, adjacent to the Peringgit Mosque, reputed to be one of the oldest mosque in the locality. The cemetery certainly looks old with some of the gravestones not actually made of stone or marble but from some hardy type of wood. They look more than 100 years old, and may have been there since the 19th century.

I find cemeteries peaceful. More peaceful even than mosques and churches that normally sit adjacent to them. I have no fear of ghosts or ghouls, considering them distractions. I am more fearful for the living and breathing humans who are still capable of doing hurt onto themselves and others. In the garden of stones (and wood), the dead are resting, and listening.

Our humble prayers to those departed souls - that they may find the peace, love and grace of the Divine Presence that they yearned for while alive. And that we may one day be united with the people of our past and trade love stories concerning God, the Prophets, the Saints and Angels.

Have a perfect day, sunshine!

Pax Taufiqa.

Sinner's Sunday Reflection Part II - An Event Occured

Religion, like Love, do not change me. It reveals who I really am. Sometimes I wish I never stumbled into Love’s trap. With all its bait of honey, joy, happiness, paradise, contentment and beauty, Love is ultimately an event. Perhaps THE EVENT of them all. And like events, it has its moments, only to drift away a second later.

But Love is also the brightest and truest mirror of them all – and when Love catches your reflection in its bright shiny surface – what does it reveal? Ah, my friends – you have come to know me, the sinner, for all I am worth. In order words, worthless really. For the longer I spend my time fussing with my make-up and posing like a peacock before Love’s Mirror, the uglier I appear to become. All my unsightly hairs, warts and blackspots appearing on my soul’s skin like truth out of the swamp of my contemplation.

Then I turn away quickly, protesting, “This is not me! This is not me!” But if this is not me, then who is this ugly duckling looking back at me across the mirror? And if this is not me, then where am I?

What a turn of event, isn’t it, pet? Just an hour or two ago I was posting up a typically happy-sinner poem, and now here I am – tired and worn, battered and torn.

Happiness? It is also an event, and comes and goes without our fully comprehending it. Okay, I was not ecstatic, but at least I was contented awhile back. Then out of the blazing blue, a sms arrived into my cellphone, full of dissatisfaction. I opened the sms, read it and switched off my cellphone.

No doubt even this Sad Event would pass away, I know. Really, of that I am certain. But while this sorrow lingers, who else can I turn to? Who else can accept this sinner, with his appalling habits and laziness? Yes, sunshine, I have to turn to God and His Prophet. I turn to Love as the Only True Essence, seek its embrace and cower my face into its welcoming bosom. “The world is painful today…”, I would mutter, “Oh, I am so happy I have you to turn to….” I say this with no arrogance, because when all of creation is hurtful, only the Creator suffices to cool my injured pride.

After all, from Love, I have nothing whatsoever to hide.

I continued to sigh alone in front of my emo-breakfast. Then suddenly, whispered into me by a long dead soul were these words –

The world is used in two ways,
As a carrot to bait you to the Lord,
And as a stick to chase you to the Lord.

Either way should that not make you happy?

And look closely at the world again,
And at the hand holding the carrot and stick,
Does it not look strangely familiar?
Does it not look strikingly like yours?

Reflect, sinner!

*Sigh* Well, what can I say... the dead dude is right after all. So I am switching on my cellphone again. You can call if you wanna, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa.