No to Angel Cookies, No to Devil Cakes

I am tired of dreaming, so I am parking my soul here for the night. I hope you don’t mind. I tried to read your thoughts, but you are unknown to me. I am slipping, falling between the words that I write here. I am clambering up the paragraphs of your life. You say you are a footnote in my life, but I am neither a book nor a chapter. I am unwritten until you write me. I am lost until you guide me home to you. I am the bread you have yet to bake, the man you have yet to marry, the flame you have yet to spark. I am a friend unlike any other.

I am tired of waiting, so I am going to hide in your pantry. How cozy it is in here. You say you don’t like pickles but I see you have dozens of jars stashed. You say you don’t like living, but I see you have enough instant noodles hoarded to last you through at least one lifetime. You say you are hurt, but when you passed by the pantry door you looked graceful as ever. I smiled wondering how you did not hear me snoring. I am sleeping in this second paragraph, and wondering where my words will take me now. This is the end of your pantry, but below is the beginning of a new journey. We are going places!

I am tired of crying, so I am going to empty my lake of tears. And I will fill it up with premium chocolate at reasonable prices. I shan’t take what the Angels are offering as they do not understand the value of money. And I shan’t take what the Devil is offering, as he tends to burn all his cookies. Oh no. I will wait for you to open your stall in my heart. And I will pay whatever you desire for your chocolate candies, even if I have to ransom the Kingdom of Shams in a golden fleet. Do you not see them already? They are at your harbour, anchored between the forested hills of old Kentucky and Mount Kinabalu.

Death is near, but my birth is nearer still. I saw a light and it was veiled. I came to it and drew the veil away to reveal the source - And it was a rose of many endless petals. From the leaves radiated beams of light of many hues. Within the rose is a blackhole with a sign posted on its entrance. The sign says “Sigh, for this is before the creation of Time’. The tail of my turban unfurled further than I could reach, and it fell into a sea of clapping waves, but the sea was green, not blue. I tried to hold back the light, but it came upon me all the sudden, and my reason was undone, my sanity kidnapped. I have nothing left to hold onto but you.

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This is not a dream, but merely an exercise in writing. Nor is my life any more real, being only an exercise in living. But it feels oh so true. Especially when I am with you.

Pax Taufiqa.

Footnote:
Sketch #1 is from Amir Adam Mohd Zahurein
Sketch #2 is just done yesterday but only scanned today (network scan been buggy of late).

Egypt, The Beautiful Prophetic River and the Vile Stream of Hate

SICK SICK SICK. I have been unwell, my friends. I tried to get through yesterday, but around noon I crashed and refused to return to the office. Maybe it’s the change in temperature - After 5 days' delay, the traditionally warm weather which would normally announce the Chinese New Year has belatedly arrived in Malaysia. Or maybe it’s simply because of the news on tv. While watching the early morning news on Al Jazeera, I saw the appalling news footages of the riot in Cairo (the one where the van / car / pick-up truck were trying to run down protestors on the streets, followed by the drivers / passengers being pulled out and assaulted, they are probably dead by now) and followed by a video of an attack by Messrs Crazy & Deranged against the Ahmadiyah Muslim sect in Indonesia, where 3 died. It doesn't matter to me which side is right or wrong. Both videos made me sick.


HATE. It is a difficult thing to control, Hate. And it is even more dangerous when you believe that your anger / hate is justified. And worse still when you marry Hate with your personal convictions, regardless whether you are a Jew, Christian, Muslim or Hindu. In such circumstances, almost any action is justifiable. Because, to be honest, you have become that which you hate. There is no justice anymore, not when the mob is screaming for blood - Kill him! Kill him! Kill him! Well, fuck that, I say. My firm view is that vigilante justice has no place in Islam. Simply because vigilante justice is so manifestly corruptible, and it is all too often motivated by anger. So it doesn’t matter whether your anger was justified to begin with. Anger / Hate spoils everything. Even 'justice'.

PROPHETIC RIVER. Our mouth is a constant source of hate. We try to curtail it, we try to think beautiful thoughts, but we often fail and suddenly, hateful and spiteful words come spewing out of us… a vile stream of hatred and resentment. The Prophet is absolutely different and utterly unique. From his lips issues forth a river of beauty, love, mercy, kindness and tolerance. And if you find one iota, one drop of hate in such a prophetic river… then I am sorry. I cannot agree that such a thing can come from the Prophet.

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CANCER. Hate is like cancer of the soul. Millions of scientists are out there now, looking for a cure for Cancer. If such a cure is ever found, it is too late for my mum, for she died 9 years ago due to Cancer. I am consoled by my belief that even so, she did not suffer from Hate. She loved and was beloved by many. She was the springtime of my life and in the gentle falling leaves of autumn, I see her still, smiling at me. My mother was a herald of love, if ever there was one. Honest, patient and gentle with an earthy sense of humour which always made people laugh. And she never talks bad behind your back. Oh no. No Hate in her. Perhaps a little sadness, but that is normal alas. Alhamdulillah.

LIFE. In any event, what is your life worth even if you could live for a thousand years, if you live your life hatefully? And what if you live your life for just for one hour, yet you were able to inspire love in the eyes of your father and mother?

Eventually

We will eventually return to Him, sunshine. And He shan’t ask us how many years we have lived. He shall only ask this – how did you live your life and whom did you love? God save us if the reply to the last question is ‘I loved only myself’.

Pax Taufiqa.

Footnote: Cemetary picture is courtesy of Balqies Arafia Zaid’s Photoblog.

Love, the Great Flood and Who is Hu? Hu is He is Love

5. I did not plan
Wealth took me into his arms,
And I replied, "Peace be upon you",
Poverty shook my hand,
And I replied, "Peace be upon you",
Envy then appeared to greet me,
And I replied, "I want nothing to do with you,"
Jealousy lit a fire under my feet,
And I replied, "It is a hateful thing that you do,"

I look to the Sun but I receive no answer,
I look to the Moon and he is silent to me,
Then I look within, and finally I could see,
The spring of truth, the fountain of peace
The strange yet familiar face that seems
To look like me, but is more than me.

If you find me pleasant, then blessed is me,
If you find me rude, then accursed is me,
But in the shadow of the looming storm,
And in the eye of a rising cyclone,
Never am I alone.

I did not plan my journey
Knowing what awaits
Me around the corner,
Through the valley of life,
With leafs and flowers left
Wet with morning kisses
The path takes me forward
Wherever God pleases.

I did not plan to fall for you
Knowing what awaits me in
Your secret embrace,
Only that love came,
Then love called,
Mysterious and
Masked in her
Many beguiling
Disguises.

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I think Love must be mysterious. Which means that Love can be a little arbitrary. And that is not bad, when you think about it. After all, there is so much in life which is beyond our control. Like our breath for instance. Who's to say that this breath which I exhale is not my last? Who's to say that I won't expire before I finish writing this posting? Sufis love the quirky analogy between the English language "Who" and the Arabic "Hu' (meaning 'He', and in Sufi dictionary, as in He, the One God). They often would reply to the questions thus - "Who? Why Hu of of course!"

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I wrote the above prose, carried by a wave of sentiments that we can call love (From 'The Bride's Dress' - Jan 2010). I fell in love, you see. And at that point in time, really, I knew not where this flood will take me, and ultimately deposit me. Noah's Ark is reputed to have been left on top of Mount Ararat after the Great Flood. Me? Hehehe, to tell you the truth, sunshine, my Great Flood has not ebbed, and I am still adrift in the flood water. If you could see me now, you would see me in my small sampan (a small boat), eyes blinking, nervously staring into the vastness of a sea which appears to have no end.

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There is a common thread about love, about man and woman, the Sea, the arbitratiness of life, and how love can taste so sweet, just about a second before love pushes you overboard.

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Yet, it is a shared belief in most faiths that there are no such thing as coincidences, so really, arbitrariness doesn't actually even exist. And after all my posturing and pretensions, I appear to have been permitted to live long enough to write this posting. And you have been fated to live long enough to read this posting. So who permitted it? Who consented to our meeting? Who?

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As those crazy Sufis would answer... I believe it is Hu, He, Love.

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Pax Taufiqa.

Between Form and Essence of Religion, the Importance of both, and why, I am the Richest

LAST NIGHT. It’s school night so Mika was with me. Before bedtime he introduced me to a boardgame called Who’s The Richest. It’s an abbreviated form of Monopoly and similarly, the winner is the player who earns the most wealth and outlasts all other players.

SO WHO’S THE RICHEST? Clearly last night, I was the outright winner. In spite of the aim of the game, Mika was at his most magnanimous, and I was at my most terrible form. I was leaking money, having to pay huge rents to him and being fined (3 times!) for unlawfully climbing the Eiffel Tower. But again and again, he tried to sneak some of his money into my pile and cheering whenever I (rarely) get some decent luck. As my cash dwindled he was becoming nervous for me, trying even to ‘accidentally’ land on my hotel, so that he would be able to pay me rent. Anything, to keep his papa in the game. “It’s not about winning, Papa… its about having fun.”, he says. Inevitably, I lost, bankrupt by the 10th turn. But I was the richest I think… because I had a son like him. Queer and kind little fellow.

KATAM QURAN. On Saturday morning, with my aunt and Heche in tow, I drove down to Putrajaya, the administrative centre of Malaysia. One of my cousin’s daughter was having her daughter’s Katam Quran. Essentially it is a celebration of the girl’s completion of her study in the recitation of the holy scripture. On that day, surrounded by family and friends, she would recite the closing verses of the Quran, and if she makes an error, anyone present could correct her recitation by raising his/her own recitation, and this would be repeated by the young lady and the congregation. She succeeded just fine that day, with very few mistakes. Thereafter followed the tahlil (a traditional collection of prayers and recitation of critical verses of the holy book, especially the Yaasin) and closing supplications. It was good, and it was better because the proud parents served us roast lamb and other assortment of delicacies, including the famous Sate (or spelled satay sometimes), which is grilled marinated meat impaled on small sticks. The only qualification of the day was the hot weather, which was slowly broiling me. Heche didn't allow me to wear a t-shirt, you see, she says its a formal function. She is funny that way.

UNITY OF WORSHIP. I often talk about the unity of religion. About the common meaning behind the idea and recognition of God in all creeds, and how His prophets and saints’ good example and teachings are meant to elevate mankind to a higher purpose and happiness. I understand however that within each religion, it is important to remember the roots and rituals which accompany whatever faith you are holding to. It promotes togetherness and I have no doubt that God will reward you for your faith and charity. The views I share here is not meant to encourage the breakdown of core beliefs and rituals of any man or woman. If you are Christian, may you be the best Christian you can be. If you are Hindu, may you be the best Hindu that you can be. If you are Sikh, Buddhist or Jew, then it is my sincere hope that you will the best that you can be in following the best examples of your faith. Accept no alternative, my friend, for surely your excellence is God’s highest hopes for you. Because I am taught that the unity of one religion, one race and one nation is not divisive but is in fact a necessary element in the overall unity of worship shared by mankind and all creation.

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Last night, Ariffin, my partner in my law firm was in jubilant mood, sms-ing me his hope that today would be a good day. So I am sharing his sentiments and hopes with you – Godwilling, may this be a SUPERB DAY for you, sunshine!
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31.A gift of gifts!!
In my life I am blessed,
As the Lord ensures me
The companionship of true friends,
They who enliven my days
with wit, joy and wisdom.

Honoured, inspite of myself,
To be honoured with their brotherhood.
O'Lord of Gifts,
In this which you reward me,
Is a gift of gifts!!

Pax Taufiqa.

Your life is a like a ship in a vast sea. And you have a stowaway... Me!

Dear readers,

You are quite lucky to have the very best of me. You don’t have to deal with me on a daily basis, you know. Not with the real me, just my writings. You don’t have to see me at my worse, for I can be cold, hard and cruel. And I can be impatient too. You don’t have to see my face when it is most smug, nor see me turn away, uncaring.

You don’t have to look into my eyes and see envy, and you don’t have to see me eating alone, a glutton. You do not see me disappointing people, being irresponsible and foolish in my 41st year of my life. What you get here is a sanitized version of my life. It is surely the greatest joke that at the end of it all, at the highest apex of my representation to you, all I want to be, all I believe I can ever achieve, is to be a good sinner.

Heche says I write well. But I have stumbled into a sea of melancholy and it is gripping me. I am so melancholic I almost feel French. I hear they are rather good at it.

What do I do, sunshine? What do I do when my writing is better than my living? I must admit that perhaps this blog is a form of escapism. A mad avenue for me to compensate for my real life’s shortcomings. I write and readers read, it almost feels real. Surely it must be real. But is it?

I do not want to waste this posting entirely on melancholy. I love garlic, and I think Paris is very beautiful… but this is not me. Let me trawl my old prose and see what I can come up with. Wait a minute, will you?

Hi, sunshine. Thanks for waiting. I found a rather sweetot little prose which even has a date in it, it sounds rather like this…

12. I am aglow
I am aglow with happiness,
For a sun has risen on my landscape,
And he is shining into every nook and corner,
Banishing the dark that once shadowed me.

Lest, I forget, let me remember this day,
That on the 9th of February 2008,
I felt myself a sailor on a good ship,
With a good breeze behind the sails,
And a good captain at the wheel.

Me and my mates,
Near and far,
I may not see as they see,
And I may not feel as they feel,
But the salty taste in the air is our common communion,
And we know that we are on a sea journey,
Together, traversing an ocean of mercy,
Together, harvesting pearls of wisdom
From her bosom.

I guess its true what the prose says. We are in this journey together. Even if you can only know me through my writings, we are in the same ship called planet Earth. But for a lot of you, you will probably never get to see me. And is shall never have the delight to meet you. Anyways, I am a little tired today, world-weary and confined to my cabin.

So today I leave you to live your life as you wish. To guide your life by that North Star that men call conscience. Sail your life well, sunshine, for wherever you are taking your ship to, you are taking me there too. I will also try to live my life better, sweetness. For wherever I am going, so long as you read my writings, so long as you are sharing my life, I am bringing you with me.

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Pax Taufiqa.

Why Evil Exists, and why Believers like you need Sinners like me. *evil laughter*

Why is the propensity of evil permitted to exist? Because only through these soulful examinations can we show true devotion – devotions which would gleam with the inner iridescence of precious stones, to illuminate lives of other man and beings- Does man not reflect on how the most beautiful and valuable gemstones are bred through the gripping pressure of earth and time. How after eons of subjugation beneath the soil, from dark and blackened coal, diamonds are born? My kind readers, we are the coals, the weight of the mountains bearing upon them are the challenges we face in this life, and to become diamonds and adorn the hand of the Prophet (Pbuh) our most-sought end (should only we knew better), so that the Prophet(Pbuh) may say in His presence; O’ Lord Most Forbearing, look at my people, are they not beautiful in their devotion and gratitude to You? Are they not shining in their trusteeship of the trust You have settled upon them? Do their brows not shimmer in devout humility to You? O’ Lord, be pleased unto them, as I am unto them!
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(….Perhaps another sad analogy that can be drawn as to why such small portion of creation constitute these precious stones)
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Everything is known by its opposites. What is spoken love if not put to the test? Empty words of no consequences! Better to attempt to inscribe it on running water than to suggest that its verbal declaration suffices as proof. Bring me a man or woman who has never suffered a betrayal by another who professes love or friendship, then would I entertain such mortal fancies! Devotion, love, appreciation, empathy, forgiveness, understanding and all such high ideals only ennoble man by its adherence regardless. Virtue is only affirmed by a challenge to its pre-supposed eminence in the heart of its holder. We may discern such truths from the play of darkness and light; How do we shine if there is no darkness to shine through? How can we recognize light and say; “that is light!” if no shadow lies by its fringes and no outline marks its borders? How would you recognize a good man without knowing a bad one(or at least an idea of what constitutes a bad person) in comparison. The Maulana Sheikh Nazim al-Qubrusi speaks in a chapter entitled ‘Everything Is Known By Its Opposites’ thus; “Everyone is appointed to an important position in this life, and just as more aspects of light are absorbed into the consciousness by means of the awareness of darkness, so is the wisdom of the believer sharpened by the existence of wretched individuals”.
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If all the heavens stayed bright and clear, and there is no night, who would appreciate the luminous and Blessed stars that dot the twilight sky? Herein lies beauty and many abject truths, so reflect o’ lovers of the Light and Love;

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“Blessed is He Who made constellations in the skies, and placed therein a Lamp and a moon giving light.

And it is He Who made the night and the day to follow each other: for such as desire to be mindful or to show their gratitude (Al-Furqan, 25:61-62) ”

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The above is an extract from the uncompleted unpublished book (circa 2001) of mine entitled "THIS WORLD IS MY MOSQUE - A Walk Through a Twilight Forest under a Crescent Moon", which was earlier touched on in the posting entitled Mawlana Abul Kalam Azad Part 2 (Click Here). I was such a serious little fella back then. Or at least I used to write in such a vein. Now I appear to be writing in the vein of the grape vine, replacing water with wine, pomposity with levity. Ah, what a wretched sinnerI am! Ya Huu!

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God bless you, sunshine. May your virtues shimmer like the full moon compared to the dusky grey template of my contradictions. Like the Maulana rightly pointed out, you know - You need sinners like this blogger to sharpen your true wisdom.

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Pax Taufiqa

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A NECESSARY POST SCRIPT (9 am, Saturday 5th Feb) - The idea of 'evil' has changed for me. 10 years on, it has become a far more subtle event, and it can hide in the many many folds of our mind. It has no sway in our hearts, I believe. And if evil is done, it is never because of the exhortations of our hearts, instead it is because we refuse to listen to our heart, obeying instead the whispering dictates of our ego and nafs - sometimes patently bad, but often disguised as the best of intentions... It is a delicate affair, my friends, being alive... may your inherent goodness guide you to a good and goodly life. And beware of the whispers!

5. Only Whispers
Evil, if you wish it a name,
Has no powers,
Only whispers.

(Poem from Chapter 26, 'Stay Clear' circa 2007)

Cheerleading is Divine Work for the Divine One

Last week I proceeded with the development of Mikhail's understanding about God (God help him that he has me for his papa. Hehehe). And about God's best pal, which for the Muslims, is the Prophet Muhammad (whom we sometimes refer to here as Nabi Muhammad). In an earlier posting entitled "Even the mightiest of trees began life in a tiny little seed" I mentioned how Mika says that his Boss is Nabi Muhammad and God. Or perhaps more theologically correct, God and Nabi Muhammad.

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Well, last week I mentioned to Mika that not only is God and Nabi Muhammad his Boss(es), they are also his cheerleader(s). After all, even if God is Lord over all creation, and the Numero Uno Master of the Universe(s), He is also your Most Loving, Most Kind and Most Compassionate. And in addition to that constellation of Mosts, God is also the Most Wise in Planning for Your Success, and, so long as you wish Him to be, Your Most Motivating Motivator, All-Cheering One, He Who possesses, beyond the highest love of even a father and mother, the belief that you can indeed be the best that you can be. He and His Prophet, They are at the sidelines of the pitch, cheering you on when you are running for the pass, cheering you on when you are down and injured. Cheering you on and saying Go! Go! Go! or perhaps also Medic! Medic! Medic!

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I share this with you, o' Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Wiccans and Trekkies, because I can. Because beyond the label of 'God' and 'Muhammad' is the meaning in such words. And in my life, I have met sainted souls who call upon my Lord in different names and different ways. Yet I am proud and honoured by their friendship in worship. In fact, they humble me by their dedication and charity.

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I am tired of the 'us and them'-ism of so-called religious people. Because, from where I am running in the field of life, I see the Lord and His Beloved Prophet cheering us on, and beside me I see people of many faiths and dispositions, helping me race the good race, and fight the good fight. On the stands and bleachers, I see Angels looking on, recording and taking notes. But they cannot understand us. But you can, sunshine. Because, really... are you not me? And am I not you?
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Have a wonderful Friday. Gong Xi Fa Cai!
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Pax Taufiqa.