TWO BOW-LENGTHS - sunnah archery, whirling dervishes and the unity of Allah (swt)

Two Bow-Lengths

Beneath ten million stars

Across the plains of America

High in the mountains of the Himalayas, 

Deep in the sea of the Pacific,

Hidden in the dunes of old Arabia,

In the Artic tundra,

On the steppes of Russia,

In the hollow of a rainforest

In rural hilly Malaysia

We whirl...

Following the one

Brought closest to the One

Till he was at a distant of but two bow-lengths

Or even nearer.

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

All roads lead to God. The art of the whirling dervish and the prophetic tradition of archery appear to be two very different activities. That is true at one level, but at another level it is essentially one and the same, just like the God we all pray to. And if you follow the spiritual path, there are many, many more levels for you to traverse. Across a seemingly impossible divide between the temporal and spiritual, the physical and the mystical. Slowly, you will notice the blurring of borders between religious ritual and daily life, between this world and that world. 

And most importantly, between you and I, between us and them.

The last sentence in the prose references a Quranic verse depicting the arrival of God's Beloved Muhammad (saws) beyond the last veil, through which not even the Archangel Gabriel would pass. And it was there (wherever 'there' is) that Muhammad Habibullah (saws) was brought to the divine presence of Allah (swt), God of all Creation. As the Quran informs us...

While he was in the highest part of the horizon

Then he approached and came closer

And was at a distant of but two bow-lengths or (even) nearer.

(Quran 58:7-9, Yusuf Ali)

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

In this month of the Prophet Muhammad's (saws) birth, the Muslims are busying themselves in remembrance of their beloved Prophet, polishing the old connection and reasserting their passionate love for the Habibullah (saws) in the celebrations of his prophetic attributes. Why, even sinners such as I cannot but get dragged along for the ride...

So have a good one, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE HADRA, THE BEAUTIFUL INHERITANCE - love is forever attracted to Love

92. Whatever, Whomever You are Looking For

I am your Home and your Homecoming,

I am your Beginning and your Ending.

If love is what you are looking for, love is with Me,

If light is what you are looking for, light is with Me,

If truth is what you are looking for, truth is with Me,

If safety is what you are looking for, safety is with Me,

If friends are what you are looking for, they are with Me,

If Muhammad is who you are looking for, he is with Me,

Whatever, whomever you are looking for, they are all with Me.

And if you are looking for your self?

You too are with Me.

So why look else where?

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

The Hadra. Some sit, some stand, some whirl, some jump, some walk, trot then run in a circle. A little bird perched near my ear tells me that the Hadra, a supererogatory ritual of remembrance, veneration and praise of God Almighty and His Beloved Muhammad (saws), often performed by the Sufi Orders are returning to the shores of the Malayan Peninsular and elsewhere in the South East Asian archipelago. The Hadra is performed on many religious occasions as well as important events like birthdays, weddings and even tahlils (supererogatory prayers for the deceased).

This is good news for the seekers looking for the understanding of the self, which leads directly to a knowledge of Allah (swt). And to undertake this worshipful search with hope, joy and happiness. 

It is something new for some people, but for some elderly friends, they look on a recent Hadra performed at a wedding reception and exclaim with surprise... "Why, we used to do this when I was young!"

As I said, this is indeed a wonderful missive for those looking towards Allah (swt) with hope and joy. After decades of Wahhabi-centric propaganda, it appears that people are returning to their beautiful inheritance, their original roots which stretches through centuries of the great Companions and Saints of the Prophet Muhammad Habibullah (saws)...

Surely, o' deniers, you do not think you shall always have your way here?

And this is naturally so because I believe that most people are lovely. And love is forever attracted to Love, beyond the forms and formalities of blind ritualism of religion.

Have a wonderful day, sunshine. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE DERVISH IN THE FLOWER POT... and his Lord of beguiling beauty and riddles

The Dervish in the Flower Pot

I found him entangled among the branches and leaves,

The little dervish caught in a flower pot,

 Upon his head rested a yellow turban,

Upon his lips rested praises of God,

And teardrops glistened like jewels

On his flowing robe of white.

The mark in remembrance 

of the Prophet and His Lord.

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

No Mundane Day. I saw this flower at a florist right next to the mini market where I normally buy groceries. It is some atonement for my sins that I notice such things. I do not know why, but it gladdens my heart. Giving a beautiful gloss over my otherwise mundane day.

We all have our work to do. Our  daily schedule of chores, appointments and datelines. But I think, if we step over the threshold of our house into a brand new day, there is always some divine garnish that awaits us out there in the world. And often it is in the most unlikely and surprising of places and times. 

"If you look for good, you will find God. And if you look for God, you will find Good.", so an old friend of mine says. But sometimes, you may be looking for neither, distracted as you are by the imposing realities of being mortal and very much human, with all our faults and forgetfulness. 

God does not forget. So I guess it is our blessing to be made by a Maker Most Loving of His creatures that He does not wait for us to turn to Him. He will intervene, as He does... daily, to remind us of Him. Through beguiling beauty, riddles and nuances which is all His own. Drawing us to Him like a cat to milk. Like a mureed to the mursheed.

"...meow... meow..."

Have a lovely day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

THE HADRA... Immortals whirl and Nightingales sing!

The Hadra

You see guitars, drums, clarinets and cellos,

But I see instruments of worship with sounds hallowed,

You hear pop songs and think they sound wrong,

But I hear echos of choirs and heavenly songs,

You see kids jumping and dancing mad,

But I see bright young souls yearning

For the Hadra they never had

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

The Hadra. According to the Wiki.. "Haḍra (Arabic: حضرة‎) is a collective supererogatory ritual performed by Sufi orders. It is often held on Thursday evenings after the night prayer, on Fridays after Jum`a prayer or on Sunday evenings, and can also celebrated on special Islamic festivals and at rites of passage. It may be held at home, in a mosque, in a Sufi hospice or elsewhere. The term in Arabic literally means "presence"..."

Whirling Calling Praising

Whirling, whirling, whirling,

Words pour out of mortal hearts,

Calling, calling, calling,

Prayers stumble from human lips,

Praising, praising, praising,

While the tired pass the night in sleep

Immortals whirl and Nightingales sing,

Drinking the Ocean timeless and deep!

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

I have been out of touch with the band of dervishes that make their spiritual home not far from my house. Been busy, ya' know.... with dunya (worldly) matters. He he he.

Missing Kuching. The pictures above however are not from my neighbourhood, but was taken in Kuching, Sarawak on the island of Kalimantan/Borneo. I was there in February this year for the funeral and tahlil of a good man.

Many things in my life have turned and changed in the course of these past couple of months. I wanted to write about them now but strangely it is The Hadra that is written instead.

Perhaps there is a reason that I am unaware of. But sometimes it is okay not to follow too closely the clouds that pass through our thoughts... after all, we are just sinners here.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

LET LOVE WRITE YOUR LIFE - sadness, God and surrender

Only One

I save my most bitter regrets for my Lord,

For only He has an infinite mercy ocean for me,

I save my saddest tears for my Lord,

For only He knows me best and

Only He can attend to my sadness most consummately,

I save my greatest hope and dreams for my Lord,

For to make them all come through for me,

He need only to say 'Be!' and it is done,

But lo, His cherished hope for me is greater

Than I shall ever know, so He does as He wishes,

This is my Lord, God, the Truth, the One!

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

We learn many things in happiness. But we also learn a great deal through sadness. And the trail of tears that has dotted my life's path has taken me to strange beautiful places. Into the eye of the whirling dervishes. Into the congregation of the lovers of Muhammad (s.a.w.s.). Into the smiling gaze of a saint. Into the embrace of a Friend of God.

I light my own fire of regrets. But Allah (s.w.t.) sends the rain. Sometimes like gentle summer drizzle, a golden shower. Sometimes like the thundering clap of the monsoon storm, flooding my world. 

Funny. I wanted to write something else, but these words appear. It reminds me of an old poem recorded almost 10 years ago...

94. Nib

I am the nib of the pen,

The ink in the well,

The paper You hold in Your Hand,

But what You will write, my Love,

I cannot foretell.

Have a lovely weekend, sunshine. Let Love Write Your Life.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

No Better Love Than This, No Better Life Than This

No Better

I give one percent and You give ninety-nine percent,

I take one step and You make one leap,

I think of You and You are already on the way to me,

I think of writing to You and Your postman is already 

Waiting at my door, ready for the delivery...

You are ever ahead of me, encouraging me to You...

You are ever behind me, covering my back,

This love You have for me...

Is there any other place to be

That is better than this?

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

Nothing much to say today, sunshine. What is to be written here is already written.

May you find peace with your Lord. There is no better love or life than this.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE ASTRONAUT AND THE SUFI

The heart is shaped by Cristina Colombo.
You may visit her Facebook page by clicking on the Heart.

The Astronaut 

I came upon her here,

Hundreds upon thousands of miles away from home,

Whirling and drifting like a Jasmine flower fallen from heaven,

Airless, lifeless and soul freezing cold,

I came upon her as a stranger, 

Whatever shall I say to Ground Control,

And who in Houston would believe me?

...That on the Moon

I found a whirling Sufi?

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

Do you find this strange, sunshine? It is not as strange as this world we live in. For if we are destined to meet, we would meet in the limitless horizon of the heart, further than the furthest galaxy of this Universe. Yet nearer to us than our own jugular veins. At a place sanctified by the presence of God Almighty, the All-knowing!...

We verily created man and We know what his soul whispereth to him,
and We are nearer to him than his jugular vein.
(Quran 50:16, Marmaduke Pickthall)

Verily, with Allah, anything is possible.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

It Is Not Just About Whirling - breathe the Huu Part 2

Last Wednesday night gathered a conference of birds - men and women and children, young and old,
Muslims and a flock of non-Muslims, dressed ordinarily or clothed in the Naqshbandi Tariqa dress
and headgear, or adorning the Mehlevi  robes with its high headgear and turban... came to see and
listen to an exposition on whirling by Sheik Ahmad Dede Pattisahusiwa. At the end, we witnessed
the attestation of faith by seven seekers, as they embraced the Light of Islam and
 the Traditions of the Prophet (s.a.w.s.), yet I believe that everyone who came
that auspicious night left somehow changed.  Because it was
not merely about whirling... 

As the Sheik spoke, he explained, and sang and whirled. Oh,  he was not whirling all night long.
But at the metaphysical sense, at the place where we leave behind our physical senses and enter
into the Realm of the Lover and the Beloved, of Ahad and Ahmad, he was continuously whirling...
Casting beautiful words and examples like honey for the bears. And we were all honeybears there,
hungry for nectar of the whirling dervish. But (not surprisingly, I guess) his kind and loving words
fell from another place, beyond the conventional idea people have about the whirling Sufis and
even beyond the conventional idea many people have about the Religion of Islam.
Because the ideal is more than just about whirling... 

Before anything, the Sheik spoke of the Master of the Zawiya, almarhum Shaykh Raja
Ashman Shah ibn Sultan Azlan Shah. As how the Prince, in his lifetime, invited the
Sheik to come and visit Malaysia and the Zawiya. In this transaction, born in life and
consummated after the passing of the Prince, we felt a profound sense of gratitude...
Of benefiting from the love between two brothers in love,  Poor old Longhair choked
as he referred to the Prince as "...a friend." Love Lights were written in air with the
ink of faith, mercy and beauty. Such things adorned the Zawiya last night and many
tears were shed and many more hearts captivated.
Because it was not about whirling only...

Perhaps this picture best captures the spirit of relationship between a Shaykh (Master)
and the mureed (Student). Over the whirling steps and turning feet, and hands raised and lowered
of the mureed, the Sheik oversees his young ward whirling and seeking the Sought (God) but
in submission always to the life journey intended for each one of us. For above the Sheik
is his Sheik, and thereon his Sheik and his Sheik. Down through the ages for more than 1,300 years
to the Master of all masters, the Master of all Creation, Muhammad Abu Arwah (Father of Souls)
Habibullah (s.a.w.s.). For you see, on that night whirling was only the beginning...

The secret lies in the nyat (intention). From there the Guide that is God leads the one
inspired by his love for Him. Through the springs of life, through the valleys and
meadows of this world, away to His presence and His beauty and His love. The mureed
unlocks each petal of his own rose within the garden of His truth. Speaking the words of
love, "Oh, I am in love with Thee, and I am giving everything to Thee..." The mirror of creation
is broken, and the spirit is released from the confines of this world. Whether whirling or living,
intention is everything. Beyond that is submission, and surrender to the Will of Love,
at a place where all humanity is One, and there is only God.
So you see, it was not merely about whirling... it was also
about experiencing love with God.

I went with Mikhail. Whatever he gained from the talk, I do not know.
But sometimes, all we can do is arrange for a seed to be planted,
and how the tree will grow, only God may foretell.
For you see, it was not merely about whirling.
There is also a bit of soul gardening.

I persuaded him not to wear the Mehlevi tall hat. I said that he does not like attention from strangers,
and the high turban will attract people's eyes. He agreed with me and wore a simple Malay
songkok instead. I know that one day he will not agree with me,
and we shall cross that bridge when we get there.
But for now it is not merely about whirling.
It is also about the pure and untamed
spirit of children.

Lovers astride in a row.
It was not merely about whirling, you see...
It is also about the Art of Returning to Him
while breath still animates your body.

This is what I came home with, perhaps others will feel differently... Give everything to the Sought (God), the only One worthy of your spirit's yearning. Breathe the Huu... follow the Prophet (s.a.w.s.).

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Whirling Dervishes and Majnun - Breathe the Huu Part 1

Breathing the Huu... 

I am in the worksite of a great mosque, but I am no Sinan,

I am in a dream state, but I am no Abu Yazid,

I am in the library, but I am no Ibn Arabi,

I am sought by Majnun, but I am no Layla,

I am in the wilderness, but I am no Majnun,

I am a lettered man, but I am no Rumi,

I am just me.

Hiding behind the pillar,

Exiled far from home,

Trying not to confuse

God’s perfection for my own

……………………………………….

Many stories and secret horizons were revealed last night in the Naqshbandi Zawiya, Bukit Damansara, with the arrival of the whirling master-servant, Shaykh Ahmad Dede Pattisahusiwa. God bless you all. If I am permitted to live another day, undoubtedly I will share with you more pictures and stories. But alas, last night me and Mikhail stayed up late and came home late. And today I woke up late and must now hurry to work.

What a whirl life is, sometimes. Hehehe.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. Breathe the Huu.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Rumi, Soul Teasers and a Deck of Cards...

These are called Rumi-spectacles. Wear them to change your perspective of the world,
which of course, changes the world itself....

Ah. Jelaluddin Rumi. Poet Extraordinaire, best-selling poet in the Western Hemisphere since sliced white bread was invented. Inventor of the dustbin hat. The man who spouted tolerance and inclusiveness before the advent of Hippy-ism, One Love, Flower Power and the Ungrateful Dead. A Game Changer, a Muslim Sufi Saint of unparalleled reach who popularized the whirling ritual and founded the Mehlevi Order.

I don't read Rumi. I don't go looking for him, but every now and then someone would quote him on Facebook and there we would meet... two brick on the wall of a friend. 

To change the topic entirely, as a habit, I do go looking for clouds. Especially when I am driving, which is of course appallingly dangerous. I would be driving up the road and be looking up to the sky. I cannot help myself, you see, drawn as I am to the clouds. They are such shameless flirts... The little soul teasers.

There they are. Teasing me with their God-given beauty.

Getting back to Rumi, about a month ago a stranger named Sean popped up out of the etherness  of the Internet and asked if I wouldn't mind too badly if he could reproduce one of my Rumi-esque Sufi-esque sketches. They are going to produce a 40-deck card set entitled 'Rules of Love of Shams of Tabriz'. Shams of Tabriz is Rumi's famous muse, a wandering dervish who wandered (as wandering dervishes have a habit of doing) into Rumi's hometown and sparked his passionate love and fealty. Shams was the Master of the Master then. This is the picture that Sean wants to use...

...which coincidentally contains the two phrases by which I normally close a posting. I guess this means that I should probably stop here now and leave you to your day, your love, your work and play.

God blesses you always, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

True Love Illuminates Truly - love, avalanches, floods and the whirling dervishes

1.      Tenacious

Yea, I may be tenacious,

But it is easy tenacity when you

Are carried by a mighty flood

Roaring down the side

Of a high mountain!

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

Love affects different people differently. For some, love is all about falling down the side of a hill or mountain like a flood or an avalanche. So you get bruised, beaten and broken. Then you climb that mountain again. For others, love can make them whirl. No bruises or broken bones here, just the drawing of light-threads through the blandness of the cosmos, as even your shadow illuminates the gloomiest corner of the human experience. For true love illuminates truly... 

This is my first ever sketch with white ink on black paper. I hope you like it.

Have a lovely Sunday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Whirlpool of Light - we all whirl, we just do not realize it...

The Whirlpool of Light

The besotted dervish is whirling,

Whirling in whirlpools of light,

Turning in circles of light,

Changing, gliding, the undressed soul,

Pulling the world into

A whirlpool of love,

Whirling, whirling, whirling,

Turning day from night,

Nightingale of the Lord!

Nightingale of the Lord!
Burning, blazing bright!

Whirling, praying, turning

From the Lord to the world,

From the world back to the Lord,

Straying far from here,

Wherever this here maybe!

Nightingale of the Lord

Whirling, singing, praising,

Most Merciful is He!

Most Merciful is He!

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

The world is turning still, I see, whirling on its axis, encircling the Sun. We know this because night is over, and the Sun is shining bright on this beautiful morning.

We all whirl whether we realize it or not, creating whirlpools of light, love and mercy around us. So welcome, sunshine! Welcome to the most distinguished order of the whirling dervishes! If you are here, you are one of them! I am Taufiq and I am no dervish! I am the gatekeeper, the dog at the door, the malcontent peering in through the window, Welcome! Welcome! Welcome and please enter! But take off your shoes before you walk through this threshold, for the soles of your tired feet needs to feel the earth beneath it, lest you whirl,  take flight and forget to return! You must come back, you see, and share with me what you saw in the Lord's Garden of Delight... 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Whirling and Loving in the Last Quarter of Time

After we perished, we returned and we whirled

We perished, did we not?

When life appeared unfair and

Sadness fell like rain from the heavens

Leaving puddles of sorrow all around us.
Friends came visiting to wish us well,
Unknowing that they were consoling
An empty shell.

We died, did we not?

When hateful thoughts and bombs left

In buses, trains, marketplaces and falling from the sky

Took away our children, our fathers and mothers,

Our life reflected in the mirrors of our beloved,

Now cracked, broken and buried

In the meadow and sand dunes of our pain,

While orphans and widows turn to us crying, "Why?"

We were lost, were we not?

No humour amused us,

No song calmed us,

No balm soothed us.

We were simply blown away, were we not?

By the rising storm from the east,

By the despairing horde from the south,

By the lords of the north and west,

Where has gone the light of the universe?

Where is the orphan from the desert?

Where is the Moon above Medina?

Where is Layla and her Majnun?

From this despair we return;
We are now whirling,
We are now loving,

Expelling the death of hope,

Turning aside the defeat of humanity,

Ending the famine of mercy,

Watering the drought of love,

We are struggling, are we not?

We are asking, ‘Forgive us’

We are pleading “Do not forsake us, o' Lord’

We are begging, 'This way that You love us,

Do not ever stop...'

How needful are we for You,

Are we not?

O' God?

Sinner. Do not worry, sunshine. If I could whirl, I would not write. If I was so busy 'being good' I would not spend so much time in the grubby confines of the sinners' almanac. Things are difficult, but perhaps things were never so easy to begin with.

Still around. It is coming to the end of 2011, and soon the Christians will celebrate Christmas, and later in 2012, it shall be the turn of the Chinese to celebrate their new year. Thank you for still being around, my friends. Thank you for sticking with it, for rising up however fate has put you down, for facing the big and small adversities of your life with patience and submission.

End of Time. People worry about the end of time, and there are pundits out there whose sole job is to chronicle the passing of Armageddon's milestones. I do not have the talent nor the sheer chutzpah for that. My job is only to write and remind myself how beautiful this world is, how it can still be preserved and how there exist still millions upon millions of people out there, whom without funfair or grand gestures continue to live their days, making beautiful changes, and sparking a beautiful light in the lives of those whom they touch.

I appreciate all that you are, and all that you are trying to be. God bless.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE THIRD EYE, LOVE AND HER FURY - The future of Mecca

The Third Eye, Love and Her Fury

I whirled and twirled,

I turned and burned

Until the sky itself

Started to turn red around me,

And all of creation cascaded

In perfect symmetry,

Until no sound can I hear

But my own gasping death,

I could now see

Buildings standing higher

Than the holy stations,

As the Sun rises in the West,

And from the east, merchant ships come upon me,

To trade for my third eye their splendid cargo of love and fury.

I tell them that I am not he that they seek,

But they will not be swayed from their bargain

And asked again to see the celebrated third eye.

Relenting, I sighed and gestured towards the sky.

When I was in Mecca earlier this year I saw the tall hotels, malls and clock tower that now stand majestically and towering over the Masjidil Haram Mosque within which sits the Holy Kaaba. Aesthetically I think that it is rather unbecoming to have such high commercial edifice overlooking the single point to which all Muslims pray to.

If people think that God cares not for aesthetics and beauty, then perhaps they have been walking this earth with their eyes blind and their hearts stone cold.

May our eyes be open always and our hearts softened by remembrance of the Divine Gifts that the Lord has bestowed upon us. Have a lovely Sabbath, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Who You Truly Are... Inspired!

You are you. A collection of atoms whirling to the Music of Muhammad,
The Inspired Composition.

1. Good things happen III

“O’ love”, she said.

“I am unable to believe

In myself. I have forgotten

How to, or perhaps

I never knew how.”

He said, “If you cannot believe

In yourself, it is simply

Because you are not

Wholly aware of just

Who you are.”

“Who am I then?”, she asked.

“You are you. An inspired verse

In the Book of Muhammad,

The Inspired Message.

You are you. A collection

Of atoms whirling

To the Music

Of Muhammad,

The Inspired Composition.

You are you. A daughter

Born from a good father

And a good mother,

An Eve in a Garden of Eves,

Tended to by Muhammad,

The Inspired Gardener.

You are you. A sparrow

Cart-wheeling in a graying sky

Lit bright by the Stars

Of the Companions,

Gathered in the

Eden of Muhammad,

The Inspired Heaven.

You are you, A dew forming in a

Morning’s gentle rays,

As angels crowd your ear,

Whispering, “Awake, awake!

Fear no fear, o’ daughter of Fatima

The Inspired Essence!”

You are you. A question

Posed in a sentence written

From Alpha to Omega,

Drawing from the perfection

Of Muhammad’s answers,

The Inspired Tradition.

You are you. A humming-bird

Floating from flower to flower,

Tree to tree, delighting in

The sweetness of the

Rose of Muhammad,

The Inspired Nectar.

You are you. A river coursing

Through the meadow

Of God’s thoughts, on

Your way, wild and wayward,

To the Fountain of Muhammad,

The Inspired Ocean.

You are you. The weary tear

Of sorrow and silence, wrapped in

The Solace of Muhammad,

The Inspired Prayer.

I know all this

Because I glanced once

In my wandering miles

Looking for the North Star,

And I saw you on the path,

Walking ahead of me while

Scattering light drops from

The Flight of Love,

Muhammad al-Mustafa.

You turned, o’ love

And spoke to me,

And this was what

You said, “Oh dearest,,

If you find me forgetful,

Remind me who I am.”

So you see, o’ love

It simply had to be,

To remind you

As I was bidden,

And write for you

To read, what

Was meant to

Be written…

That when you believe in yourself,

Good things happen…

Sometimes we simply forget who we are. With the world harassing you with problems, with your Facebook, Twitter and Blackberry poking you to distraction, how will you recall your original identity?

When we breath, we often forget our own breathing, taking our existence for granted and being distracted by things which are in truth, mundane and trivial. Well, the sinner is here today, free of charge, to remind you who you truly are.

...And sunshine, what can I say? You are Inspired.

Have a lovely Monday.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.