THE LONELY SHORE - of certainties and openness

The Lonely Shore

I am a lonely shore,
A sandy bank
By a deep, rich sea.
All manner of people walk on me,
Leaving their footprints
Coming out of the waves,
Their enduring wandering
Ending Hu knows where.

In the imprints in my heart
I can see their path
And the beliefs
They say they believe in.

But I cannot live
On another person's belief,
So I ask that God Almighty
Give me my own belief'
To believe in,

And not leave me
Forever a lonely shore,
A sandy bank
By a deep, rich sea.
......................

Keep it open. Do not close your heart, sunshine. Do not say or act, "Yup, I know it all. I don't need to know anymore. My mind and heart is made up..." For the simple truth is, truth is not as simple as that. And when you are seeking to be the dust beneath the feet of saints, or watchdogs at their door, you have to keep nimble and awake. Awake to challenges to your own certainty, awake to whatever God Almighty may arrange to come your way, "Hmm... let us see how Taufiq deals with THIS, that old Mr,Know-it-all,,,"

The firm toehold. But we must have some certain rock. An unchangeable principle, a toehold in our heart that we must protect, Perhaps, if you are a Muslim, it would be our declaration of faith (the syahadah) - I bear witness that there is no god but God, and Muhammad is the Messenger of God, These are the words that make life, truly worth living for. Indeed, in its words is the true flowering of humanity's potential and promise - and your own, whatever be your dream or talent.

Keeping the values. And the final point is this - may we never ever, in our efforts to keep to our syahadah, do or say or permit anything to happen that directly or, more often that not, indirectly destroy the very values and connection of the Divinity and our humanity that is part of our syahadah.

For in our lifetime alone we have seen enough blood, enough depravity, enough lies and hypocrisies, all done 'in the name of God'. Do you not agree, my love?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

FORMLESS, FORMED, FORMLESS - a little reflection on traditional sunnah archery

The Form of Archery and Life 

(or Formless, Formed, Formless)

Formless, the intention is sparked

Like a light within a light,

The intention is formed 

As you pick the arrow

And set it upon the bowstring,

You raise the bow

Drawing the bowstring,

Then you aim and release the arrow,

Thus completing your intention,

Your intention returns to its formless state, 

The arrow is flying, whirling through the air

Landing at a place pre-destined an eternity ago,

Landing at a place only God will know where...

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

An old friend said to me, "You know, it is pointless to be disappointed when the arrow misses the target. And it is as pointless to rejoice when the arrows hits the bulls eye."

Eh?

"Why be torn between two polar extremes of emotions, when you can have a constant state of calm happiness?" He continued. "After all, the form of archery, the physical aspects of the sport, and the formless state being your intention to follow the sunnah archery of our beloved Prophet (saws) is already a blessing in itself!"

Really?

"Yes... really. And if you do not believe me, then ask the regiment of angel archers that is shooting arrows with you because you are honouring the traditions of the Habibullah (saws)..."

I am obsessed by an obsession. I don't know how long it will last, but I am so happy to see my brother, my son and all my nephews similarly captivated. 

So do be careful, sunshine. Don't pick up that bow and arrow if you do not want to spend hours and hours shooting arrows, fixing arrows, repairing and installing targets. And to be thrown into a circle of friends who are kind, generous, hilarious and exceedingly good-looking. May Allah bless their big hearts!

He he he.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

NOT EVERY EYE CAN SEE. NOT EVERY EAR CAN HEAR

Assumptions

Not everyone who is breathing is living,

Not everyone who is reading is learning,

Not everyone who is hearing is listening,

Not everyone who is talking is sharing,

Not everyone who is bent down in prayer is praying,

Not everyone who is smiling is happy,

Not every eye can see,

Not every ear can hear, 

Not every success is sweet,

Not every failure is bitter, 

.........

Think long. Drink deep your wine of contemplation. Every person you meet, every happenstance in your life, each breath, each moment is worthy of an infinity of reflection. 

So put down that iPhone. Shut down that Samsung. Disconnect for awhile and show courtesy to your friend and family, to your dinner companion, to the stranger sitting next to you in the bus. They are looking to you for a little mercy, a little compassion. And mercy is often heralded by sweet human courtesies. 

Many people assume themselves to be part of humanity, but they are often away, Lost in the distractions of Twitters, Instagrams, emails and Whatsapp. "I am here, I am alive and real.", their companion is beseeching them for attention and empathy, but alas they hear but do not listen.

So let us disconnect for awhile, and reconnect with each other. There is still so much goodness in this world to give, to receive and to share.   

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Truth, God and the Bridle of Adab - the best virtue is good manners (adab), and real truth only manifests itself in the Divine Presence of Truth

Speaking the truth to power

I spoke truth to power

When I said good morning to my father,

I spoke truth to power

When I said goodbye upon my mother’s passing,

I spoke truth to power

When I said my marriage vows,

I spoke truth to power

When I spoke at the divorce proceedings,

I spoke truth to power

When I raised my voice at my son,

I spoke truth to power

When finally I said that I was sorry,

I spoke truth to power

When I orated in a crowded hall,

I spoke truth to power

In my prayer and its private intimacy

I spoke truth to power

Every second of my life,

But to Love, to the Power behind the power

I spoke the truth to the Truth

When I promised Him that

I shall adore Him and no other.

 ……………………………………….

Over a couple of days, an old friend has been trying to share with me the lessons of truth, the Truth, and Love. It took him some time because I am kinda thick and slow with the uptake. But this was the outcome of our secret liaison...

Speaking the truth (in its proper sequence). We should always speak the truth. That is virtue. But there is always many different truths that we can choose to share with our listener at a single given time. So the sequence of truths that we disclose to our listener is our choice. And it is Adab (good manners) that we choose to say the truth that does not grate the listener, that does not belittle or anger the listener. Instead, speak the truths that soothes the listener and encourages him towards hope, knowledge, humanity, compassion and mercy. And this is better, because the best virtue is Adab.

Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.), the Bridle of Adab.

Real truth is with Truth. Real truth and openness is only in the Divine Presence, that is why in the third last line of the prose, truth is being spoken to Truth (Haq), which is one of the mighty names and attributes of God. This happens when our senses and our limbs, our past, present and future antecedents admit to our own failings and weaknesses... our confessions of guilt and impropriety before God, who is happily(for us) also known as the Most Compassionate (ar-Rahman) and Most Merciful (ar-Rahim). So do not be discouraged by our very human failures and follies. He who created us, verily, knows us best. Better even than our own timid selves. 

Why argue? So unless it is a fundamentally life and death situation, why argue with someone? Even if truth is on your side (or so you think), let the conflict pass you by... after all, it takes two people to make a fight. Restrain your argumentative ego to the Bridle of Adab. I do not think there is a better way, insyaAllah.

Have a happy, care-free, argument-free day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Sinners Guide to Reading the News and The Agenda of Inclusiveness

Pick your Agenda. Or in the new world of data-mining your internet history,
the Agenda will pick you. He he he.

As part of his mandatory community service to pay for all his past sins, this sinner is compiling some rules for reading and watching the news. It is a one-size fit-all baseball cap to fine tune your brain in reading and distilling the vast 'information' tsunami pouring out of the newspapers, internet and television...

Rule 1: Facts are not Neutral. It sits in an Agenda.

Rule 2: Yes. Everyone has an Agenda. Even Julian Assange. 

Rule 3: If you are reading or watching any particular News, you are likely the target of the Agenda.

Rule 4: Don’t just watch the News. Read the stories behind the News. And the stories behind the stories.

Rule 5: Business News – There is no such thing as pure price discovery (there never was, to be quite honest), only price propaganda for the Agenda.

Rule 6: Don’t react. Think about your reaction. This will scupper the Agenda.

Rule 7: When did mainstream become mainstream? But both mainstream and alternative news sites have their own Agenda. 

Rule 8: Advertizing and Psycho-technics - News are advertisements for the Agenda, and driven by the Agenda. 

Rule 9: There are no real News Reporters, per se. Only News Makers. So even Journalism advances an Agenda.

Rule 10: So what is the Agenda then, Mr. Smarty-pants?

Yes, sunshine. Even these guys have an agenda (or agendas),

Good question. Some agendas are well documented and follows the normal grain of ideology, race and religion. You know... right wing, left wing, centrist, nationalists, patriotism, Atheism, religion, race, socialism, communism, capitalism and all other sorts of -isms that mankind has created to mirror their views and unfortunately divide humanity. 

I too have an agenda. I am just not too sure what it is. I am a Muslim, I am a Malay, so there are some beliefs that I lean towards. I like to eat. I don't like conflict. I can be lazy sometimes. I have diabetes. Like it or not, your entire person influences your thoughts and aspirations. I like to write. I like to sketch. I love music. Even Kylie Minogue and Abba (I think Abba is so underrated). All this forms the foundation on which I write this Almanac. But above all this (I would like to believe, I may be fooling myself after all. I don't discount that possibility), I am most fond of the teachings and experiences from the Sufi Masters and friends that I am aware of. For however I define what I am, the inclusiveness taught to me by these fine fellows helps me break down the walls that we sometimes prop up because of our own origin, upbringing and social, ideological and religious prejudices.

So people may talk to you about this Islam and that Islam, this Muslim and that non-Muslim. But things are not as simple as that. If you are a Muslim, and if you believe that the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) is the Seal of the Prophets, the Prophet for the End of Time and God's anointed Mercy to all the World(s) and all the Creatures, then a sense inclusiveness must play some part in your faith. And this sense must encompass all mankind, whatever their piety, creed, race or religion. And this also includes the animals and the natural environment of the world.

I guess this is my agenda (for now). Inclusiveness. It is not about agreeing about everything. It is about agreeing to sometimes disagree. Isn't this what the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s) has taught you, o' Muslims? O' Arabs?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Wonder of God, Muhammad the Treasure-Hunter and the Treasure

O' My Servant, It is I...

I was a little tired,

Weary of the demands

Of this world,

Weary of this tired old pearl

That has passed down from Adam and Eve,

Through all our ancestors and finally

Right here and now, to you and me...

I stepped out into the sighing evening gloom

When suddenly, happily from nowhere in particular

A wind came and stayed constant,

Cool and with the slightest of rain

It banished away my hurt, weariness and pain,

I looked up and saw the clouds clearing away

And a bright blue twilight sky

Shining down on us poor souls,

And hearing a voice speaking -

O' my servant, it is I...

It is I who comes to His servants

When uncried tears form around

The wellness of their hearts!

And I am asking, "Lo, what is this

Pool of bitter sweet tears that forms

Around the Throne of My servant's heart?!"

And knowing as I know you all too well,

"Ah, My poor servant needs Me! Such is the pain

That cannot even be shed by the tears

From their eyes!"

Thus, you find Me here,

It is I...

It is I...

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

Magic. People look for magic and miracles. But it is all around us and it is all within us. It is in what we say and do, in what we feel and think. And yet, they are asking - miracles! magic! miracles! magic!

The Wonder of God. What for do they want such baubles and trinkets of Divine Power? Verily, is this world not enough for them to contemplate upon the Wonder that is God? Is not our bodies, our sight, hearing, senses of smell and sensation not enough? And truly, how absurd is humanity sometimes, that we are blinkered and do not see the gift of love that is our mind and heart. This is enough. This is more than enough. I think the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) found it strange why people are so enamoured with miracles and magic. Is not what you see, hear, feel and sense of this world not enough as witness unto the Wonder of God?

The Treasure

People seek power and knowledge

To acquire the treasures of the world,

But you are the treasure, of this world

And of the world Hereafter.

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

Muhammad the Treasure-Hunter. The Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) is the anointed treasure-hunter of God. This is only rightfully so because we are all treasures from the Khazanah of Muhammad (Treasury of Muhammad) granted unto him and for his reason alone. Do not let the Prophet(pbuh) do all the searching, look for him too! You have hands that can work, you have feet that can walk, you have eyes that can see and ears that is happy to listen to guidance. And even if you have none of the above, Glory unto God, you have your mind and your heart! Listen to where it desires to go... forever it is desiring the company of Muhammad Habibullah(pbuh), the Lord's Mercy unto all nations and worlds.

Am I not sharing a truth, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Dawn & Dusk, The Virtue of Constancy - Monday blues after a long holiday

Dawn & Dusk

Dawn and dusk,

Day and night,

Right and wrong,

Black and white,

Twice a day and

Many, many more times

In our lives,

We cross the line between

What the Good Lord enjoins

And what our ego enjoys.

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

Sincerity is natural enough sometimes when it is spurred by regret and passion. Consistency in sincerity is much, much harder. I think our One God puts it best...

By (the Token of) Time (through the ages),

Verily Man is in loss,

Except such as have Faith, and do righteous deeds, and (join together) in the mutual teaching of Truth, and of Patience and Constancy. (Quran 103:1-3, translations by Yusuf Ali)

After a good four days' break to the northern state of Perlis for a wedding, I awoke today a little unprepared for my regular Monday routine. Fortunately I have left tokens of work to be completed scattered about to remind me - in my bedroom, in my bag, in my car, on my work table, in my cellphone and less visible sometimes, in my head. And there are of course a mound of emails in my inbox left there by my clients and Alexander (my partner in crime).

In the Surah al-Asr, the very final lesson that we are asked to enjoin each other is constancy. And I reckon it's because we can be very, very honest sometimes, we can be exceedingly patient some times, but to carry both with constancy is the true measure of the human spirit.

So you are lucky, sunshine, that you only get me through this blog. I do not think I am an easy man to live with. On a daily diet of Taufiq, you may find me just a little bit too much. If there is talk of sincerity, patience and honesty in this almanac, it is not mine, rather it is about those who keep close to me and tolerate me.

See, this is me being honest and sincere. May we share and heighten our understanding, that such virtue becomes a more common place occurrence in our daily life. For it is perhaps too uncommon for me.

Oh well. Have a great Monday anyway, sunshine... because however it begins, the day can only get better. If anything, that is the singular enduring belief that I always nurture in my sinful heart. Sinners are like that. We have to be, to face this world with some optimism. He he he. Hu... Hu... Hu...

Angel: Where is this enduring optimism of yours this Monday morning,  o' mortal?
Me: Just bring me my cup of coffee and I will show you!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

LOVE (for men) IS... - a time to laugh, laugh and love!

I did a lot of research and spoke to a lot of couples for this posting...

Love (for men) is…

Love is… having your own personal psychiatrist 

(you know… where the patient actually thinks she’s the doctor?)

Love is… having your own personal assistant-cum-stalker (you know… where your amour asks you – “You were ‘getting ready’ to leave for work one hour ago. Where were you for that 45 unaccounted minutes? Who were you with??")

Love is… having your own personal trainer and LIFE motivator (you know… when you finally give up the ghost of excuses and finally admit to her, “Well, maybe I like having a gut? Maybe I like wheezing after two steps up the stairs? Maybe I don’t want to conform to Marie Clair’s idea of manly beauty? Maybe I am just lazy? Maybe I don’t want a big house in the suburbs? (I just want to inherit it) Maybe we can be happy without all these inconvenient truths? Maybe this should be a quiet car journey for once?)

Love is… contemplating throttling your amour and being held back only because (1) She is stronger than you (2) You have not practiced your alibi (3) It is just too much hard work. (4) You have watched too many episodes of CSI and don't think you can get away with it. (P.S. This is actually from Chris Rock’s stand up show)

Love is… wondering (silently) how perfectly happy you were when you were in ‘the Friend Zone’ with her, and did not have to deal with her hidden insecurities, dementias, hormonal imbalances and manic obsessions. And wishing that you don't have to lie so many damn times.. "Wow! Your peanut butter cookie is amazing! No, of course I enjoy going shopping with you! Of course there is nothing more interesting for me to do (like watching the paint dry)!"

Love is… looking at her and wondering, “Oh God… what have I done to deserve this….???” 
In both sense of the phrase.

He he he.

But finally, Love is… not having learnt a single thing from our experiences, and to fall hopelessly, despairingly, perfectly in love all over again. We must be stupid, we are.

That is Love (for men)

……………………………

Is this love or is this emotional-stalking... I really don't know. Help!

Heche regularly complaints to me, "It's all about God and the Prophet, then it's about God... then the Prophet... then back again about God. What is the point of going out with a blogger if he doesn't write about ME?"

I try to explain to her that I would lose credibility if I write fawning and let's face it, boring monologues about our 'perfect relationship'. No reader would be interested in that. I bet you would go "Oh yuck. A happy loving couple, oh SO interesting."

So I recorded the prose above about an imperfect relationship. Especially from the point of view of men. Because, coincidentally I am a man. And boy, am I imperfect.

If your mate reads the prose and tells you he feels otherwise, then I am sorry... he is a dirty lying bastard. But it's okay... don't go dumping or breaking up with him. After all, he is still YOUR dirty lying bastard. And nothing can ever take that away from you.

Tis' a lovely Wednesday, sunshine. Time to laugh, laugh, and love!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Eidul Fitri, Mika, my Mother, Sponge Bob and the Solace of the Cemetery - pictures tell stories

Early in this morning of 1st Syawal, as droves of Muslims made their way to perform the Eidul Fitri prayers at mosques all over Malaysia, Mak Ndak (my auntie), Mikhail and myself sneaked towards the Bukit Kiara Cemetery which hosts the final resting place of my mother, Arba'yah binti Hj Mohd Hashim. While there I took some pictures (as is my habit in all cemeteries). And these are the stories that the pictures tell...

My mother is a gardener. My auntie Mak Ndak tells me that she was that way even
in her childhood days, always pottering around in the lawn outside my grandfather's
house in Kuala Kangsar, the royal seat of the Sultan of Perak. It was her gardening and
digging about that unearthed a small trove of ancient golden plates. I think that the number of people
who discovers hidden treasures is quite small. And those who discover them by accident
is even more minuscule. I do believe my mother was born under a lucky star. As a
gardener I thought she would be pleased to have a bouquet of yellow roses posed in
a small tin watering can. Me and Heche found it at a florist just the evening before.  I think
it turned out pretty, don't you agree?

There she is, the indomitable Mak Ndak- Giving her greetings of peace to the spirit of my late mother, her
much beloved second youngest sister, and making her doa (prayers) for my mum's peaceful and joyous
 after life. As we left much later, I heard my auntie whispering under her breath, "InsyaAllah (Godwilling),
Ba'yah, I will be joining you here one day..." I know I am being selfish, but I found myself praying that
the fateful day will be delayed as long as possible, for my Mak Ndak has been a pillar in my home and
a reservoir of memories of my mother that is simply priceless to me. Allah knows best...

While we were at my mother's grave, Mika wandered away and crossed over to the section
of the cemetery for babies and little children. I looked for him until I saw him returning from a
distant way, looking rather pensive and busy. What was he up to?

He came across a little grave of a baby, and crouched down to read the
inscriptions, that would normally state the name, date of birth and death of the dear child.

Then he abruptly stood up and gazed across the babies' graves, as if he was looking
for something or someone. I could not contain my curiosity much longer, and
I asked him, "Hey, Mika... what are you doing over there?"

He replied back, "I am looking for my friend! Remember... the baby that I gave a
present to? Remember...?" Indeed he did. When we were here last time, he stubbed
his Crocs on a stone and his Sponge Bob character fell of his Crocs. He left it at
the grave of a baby as a gift. But he was looking at the wrong place, because I remember.
So I said, "I know where your friend is! Come over here first, Mika, you need to help me
find another grave for Mak Ndak..!

For my Mak Ndak wanted me to find the grave of her late aunt, Hajah Aminah Saad. So with
Mikhail in tow, we started to make our way down the line of graves near my mother's. It is not
far from there, Mak Ndak said. So Mikhail started to check the inscriptions on all the readable
grave stones, sometimes commenting, "Hey Papa! This one died in Ramadhan... I guess he
is kinda blessed, right?" Right, Mikhail. After a while we came across a grave stone with exactly
the same black marble as my mom's and after pushing aside the shrubbery that blocked it, found
my late grand aunt's final resting place. Mika and myself were flushed with pride to find her.

So Mika did the honours and recited the al-fatiha for his great grand aunt, Hajjah Amina
binti Mohd Saad. I am somehow pleased that he has made acquaintance with our
ancestor. I think my mom would have been pleased too.

Mika in his one-Croc Sponge Bob continued his search for his friend. He found his 'friend
and 'the gift'. It was nestled between the grave and the stone marking which gives the number
of the grave in the cemetery's registrar of the dead. I was apprehensive that perhaps someone
may have simply thrown away the Sponge Bob, perhaps thinking it to be a mere litter. But instead
an unknown person took the little toy and wedged it where we found it.

I asked Mika if the baby was a boy or a girl.
"It's a boy, Papa!" he said after checking the tombstone.

Before we left, Mika gave the greetings of salam to his friend, and once more
recited the al-fatiha (the Opening Verse of the Holy Quran).

Amiiiiin.... (Amen)

Before we left, I asked Mika to wedge Sponge Bob back to its original place.
Mika complied and said, "Yeah, Papa... the baby will find it easier
to grab Sponge Bob and play with him from there..."

We returned to my mother's grave where Mak Ndak was waiting for us patiently.
Mika turned to face her grave as he recited the al-fatiha. "This is the fourth
al-Fatiha I am saying for Tok (Grandma)!" So Mak Ndak and myself dutifully
raised our hands in doa behind him. His recitation was longer than normal before he finally
sighed a profound, "Amen!" Then smiling impishly, Mika confided in me...
"I did two bonus doas for Tok!" That's Mika for you.

I don't think I am a good dad. I set way too many bad examples for him. For like it or not, as adults, we become de facto teachers, by the things we do or by the things we omit to do. For the young, whether he or she is our son, daughter, niece or nephew will inevitably look up to us as an example. I pray that where I am amiss, God and His Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), and the Companions and Saints will cover my son, Mikhail. For I am someone truly sensitive as to his weaknesses. And boy, do I have my weaknesses... 

But when it comes to the cemetery and graves, sunshine, I am happy with Mikhail's contentment and curiosity around so many dead people. There are many adults out there who still cringe with fear at the mere whif of graves and the deceased, which I think is a rather ridiculous and short-sighted attitude. After all, we are all gonna end up here one day. Alhamdulillah, may we be gathered by God the Most Compassionate and Most Merciful in a worthy and noble company of kindred souls. Amen.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

In Jordan now reigns The Living Caliph - Heirs of the Shepherd vs The Three Horsemen of Despair

The Horsemen of Despair are forever our nemesis. We ride out against them
yesterday, today, tomorrow and everyday!

21. Heirs of Shepherds

The Three Horsemen of Despair

Ride in and out of our history books,

Garbed in the absence of Light

That folk call blackness

They spread misery and uncertainty

Beneath their banners that declaims;

Ego! Anger! Envy!

Their followers grow in numbers,

But between Points of Light and invincible fences

The heirs of Shepherds guard

And guide the frenzied herd

Into the Consuming Sea of Mercy.

…………….

I think very few people are willing to hazard a view that, “Oh wow, we are living in wonderful times!” There is no need to look far for problems, you can click the news on your computer and you can read about them in the newspapers. I think some newspapers should change their name from the Daily Herald to the Daily Trouble. Things are difficult the world over, and if we are not careful, trouble would come knocking on our door, asking to be let in. They often come in the guise of the human ego, anger and envy.

But however the world may turn, however high the price of oil and food is climbing, things are moving as planned. Of this, we must have a certain faith and belief – we cannot choose the times and epoch of our existence, but if you are born in these troubling days, it must mean only one thing – that you are meant to be here, with all the latent potential and promise within you to face whatever challenges fate may throw at you.

Against the Horsemen of Despair we have our own Horsemen for these times, often they are riding on the mount of humility, patience and servanthood. If you ask them they will say that they are nothing. But in these times when everyone wants to be famous and celebrities, that is REALLY something.

And do you know what else is quite something these days? The Living Caliph, King Abdullah II of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. These little signals and clues are emanating from Lefke in the Island of Cyprus… From the Heirs to the Shepherds of God.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. Thank you for coming by.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

ISLAM'S CALIPH ON THE THRONE OF JORDAN? - Islam came as a stranger and will come back as a stranger... Therefore give glad tidings to the strangers...

The Noble House

Forgive me o’ Love,

I am only asking what You are asking,

Decrepit and weary, and the meanest of creatures,

I am looking at the Light shining,

After almost a century

Of history in waiting.

God bless the Prophet,

God bless the Master,

God bless the Noble House

And its noble King.

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

Almost 100 years ago the mighty Ottoman Caliphate which stood the test of time for 700 years collapsed from the internal and external influences. Thus began the dissolution of an ancient order lasting more than 1,300 years from the time of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) - beginning with the supreme companions and the four rightly-guided caliphs and through the dynastic manifestations of the Ummayads, the Abbasids, the Fatimids and lastly and most enduring, the Ottomans. Right from the beginning there were disputes and the extent of the reigning Caliph's authority expanded and waned accordingly. But for 1,300 years any Muslim anywhere could at least recognise the final authority of the Caliph, whether it was in Medina, Damascus, Baghdad, Spanish Andalusia, Egypt or Istanbul.

The caliphate appeared to have ended in 1924 when the Young Turks movement, led by the fearsome Kemal Ataturk, abolished the institution of the Caliphate.

About four days ago, a Shaykh based in Lefke, Cyprus has announced and called upon the legal opinions (fatwa) of Muslim clerics the world over to confirm the rightful claim to the Caliphate in the person of His Majesty King Abdullah II, King of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. Already people are laughing and mocking the pronouncement of such an unlikely personality as the son of the late King Hussain of Jordan. He appears so westernised, so amenable to talks with the Israelis, and his father was a confidante of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, and so... well, how shall we put it politely, not fitting the expected profile of a mighty Caliph. Why, even the wife appears 'progressive' and not traditional. What a shock. What a scandal...

A C.I.A. stooge of the Great Satan, they will say. A traitor to the Arabs and Islam, they will accuse him of being. All this is presently occurring beneath the mainstream media radar. If you google about it there will barely be any coverage now, perhaps one or two muslim on-line forums having a good laugh about it.

The Prophet (pbuh) once said that at the end of times, "Islam came as a stranger and will come back as a stranger... Therefore give glad tidings to the strangers..." Thus I, a hopeless sinner and miscreant, for what it is worth (not a bean, really), am giving glad tidings to this pronouncement, strange as it appears to some Muslims, and to the King of Jordan, whom many will say is a stranger to the throne of the Caliphate, the Amirul-Muqminin of the Nation of Muhammad.

Unlikely? In the history of Islam it has often been the case...
I think God simply don't like being second-guessed.

As far as I am aware, the King of Jordan has not said anything whatsoever. But the Shaykh's pronouncement has already been made and it shall not be withdrawn. Will His Majesty accept? Only time will tell...

And finally, my glad tidings to you, sunshine, on this beautiful morning.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

PostScript - 2nd Posting on the Living Caliph Click Here

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Nothing and No One is anonymous to God

The Shaykh. Jamming it up.

I didn’t know of Ku Ash before now. But when I first saw his picture I was profoundly struck by a very rare feeling that began with ‘his face looks so royal’, and came to find out he actually is. I thought, if that reality shines through a small picture of him in simple Sufi clothing, then perhaps another profound feeling I have is real, that his exalted status as Shaykh is also simple clothing for a true and very rare Prince in the spiritual world, beyond all religions. 
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His physical life was clearly a Jewel that communicated the essence of God, as much of a bridge for adults as his beloved candies were for the children, perhaps suggestive of even sweeter gifts to come. It reminds me of how our physical presence and actions and words are the jewels of communication, but it is always the essence of God’s indescribable Silent Love that is being communicated. Shaykh Raja Ashman’s life itself, and the sweet memory of him, will continue to always be a shining bridge for, as a favorite quote says: ‘Things that are real are given and received in Silence’. 
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The sadness and grief from his unexpected passing must be unbearable. It is deeply sad for me too and I didn’t even know of him before now. Thank you for sharing his beauty with the world.

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

Thus commented an anonymous reader about Ku Ash in the earlier posting entitled In Life as in Death, there is no Reality, only Experiences (Click Here if you wanna read it).

I don’t know him (or her), but there is nothing I can disagree with this person’s observations. Except perhaps that last bit about not knowing of him. Because even if he did not know of Shaykh Raja Ashman, by God, I believe he (or she) certainly knew him, and better than me.

Nothing & No One is Anonymous to God

There are billions upon billions of stars in the night sky, almost all anonymous to me. 

But there is nothing anonymous to God... 

Not the biggest star in the biggest galaxy, 

Nor the smallest grain of sand beneath your toes 

As you walk by the Sea of Mercy. 

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At this holy place, 

All of humanity converges. 

Just a short note, readers. Bless your strawberry-scented hearts. Oh, and thank you for each and every thought that you jotted down here, from the shortest comment to the longest appraisal. Your words have turned this sinners' hovel into a salon of love. Thank you, thank you, and thank you.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way