In the sweeping vistas of pasture, desert and ice,
While others are born close to the river,
Learning to hunt in the forest and the jungle
With a spear, arrow and quiver,
But however and whenever they are born,
To God's Mercy Ocean they shall all return,
Save for those blessed few,
Whom, though walking amongst us,
Never seemed to have left the Ocean,
Spreading the good word with kindness,
A stranger, beloved to me and you,
With gentle eyes, floating in a Sea of Compassion, A prince, beloved to me and you.
....................................
Hi, sunshine. It is Monday morning. After an active weekend, it is back to work again. I am tired and a little heart-broken, but otherwise good! For I cannot complain when my life is complete with the saints, the saintly and us sinners!
The door of Fajr prayers (dawn) beckons. I can hear the voice of the muezzin, breaking the morning quiet, amid the familiar morning chorus of birds outside.
Hope springs anew this morning. May God bless you and forgive me.
One night I saw a nightingale and a mureed take flight,
The nightingale flew with a pair of dull-feathered wing,
But the mureed flew with the wings of knowledge and love,
But the flying itself? The flapping of the wings
And catching the draft and the wind?
That was the adab of the nightingale and the mureed!
And though neither disclosed this secret to me
In song or sermon,
Their flying adab was eloquent in its confession.
This I witnessed that night,
In the flight of the nightingale and the mureed
To Hu knows where across His Mercy Ocean...
....................................
al Fatiha...
One year ago today, almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibni Sultan Azlan Shah (q.s.) passed on from the cage of this physical world. This afternoon I myself passed my Sabbath at Istana Iskandariah in the royal town of Kuala Kangsar, Perak for Shaykh Raja's tahlil (prayers for the deceased) and mawlud (remembrance and praise for God (s.w.t.) and His Prophet Muhammad s.a.w.s.). Having never been there before, it was an eye-opener for me.
Across a blue sea of turbans, I watched as the mureeds (students) sang praise of the Prophet (s.a.w.s.) in loving dedication and memory for their beloved Shaykh Raja. For these fine fellows (and gals) the anniversary of their Shaykh's passing is not just a time of remembrance, but also celebration. And they did it wonderfully under the presence of Shaykh Bahauddin Adil, who flew in from Cyprus to grace this occasion for his spiritual brother...
This was how I have been spending my Sabbath. How was yours, sunshine? I pray it was good too!
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.
This world is the world of the ego. And (so I am told) the more you chase it, the less you will gain out of it. And if you run away from the world, it will come chasing after you, offering you its wealth and rich prizes! And this contradictory nature continues in your function of a servant - for the best of masters is the very best of servants of God, His Beloved Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) and of all humanity and created things.
We serve the Masters (Shaykhs and Murshids of the Sufi path)? Well, in a manner of speaking. But in truth what can we offer such illuminated souls? They are already happy, happy with God, happy with the Prophet, happy with the Saints of the before, the now and the future. Nay, while we may affect some servanthood towards the Masters, the truth is it is the Masters who serve and support us... for the love and abiding affection to their Most Beloved Master, Muhammad (s.a.w.s.).
Young men and women. In the spring of their lives often speak of love. But if you wish to learn of real love... there is no better way than here. MasyaAllah...
Bless you, sunshine. May you have a beautiful day in servanthood to Truth, Love and Mercy.
Will you be the Firaun or
will you be worse than the Firaun?
At least the Firaun was a
generous leader, are you as generous
With the pennies that you have?
Or are you deluding yourself
That when you get rich you
will get kinder?
If you complain about your
neighbour’s noise,
How many times have you
yourself disturbed their peace?
If you question someone’s
sincerity,
Why should you not question your own sincerity?
If you look down upon
someone’s fall into disrepute,
How far will you yourself
fall into disrepute?
If you sneer at a woman’s
dress or impropriety,
Why do you not avert your
eyes instead?
If you possess an envy for
so-called jihad-crusade wars,
Why are you not thankful for
the peace in your own land?
If you question the love a
Mureed (student) has for his Murshid (master),
Is it because you possess
none for anyone else but yourself?
If you think you can yourself
perfectly interpret the Holy Quran,
Why did God even bother
sending a Messenger when
He could have simply sent the Holy Quran?
If you think that democracy
is the way forward for Muslims,
Why do you think the
Messenger stressed so much on adab (good manners)
Above personal hak (rights)?
If you think Islam is the
best religion,
Why do you feel oppressed?
Who is oppressing you but
yourself?
Who is humiliating you but
yourself?
The nation will receive unto
it the leaders it deserves,
The nation will receive unto
it the religion it deserves,
You preach insularity and
introvertness,
But when the Messenger
(s.a.w.s.) looked within himself
He saw God, and outside he
saw the vast ocean of humanity.
What do you see when you look
within yourself?
Your ego? Dressed in a
religious cloth?
You speak of defending the
faith.
You say speak in the Name of God,
But the truth is you do not
Even understand the
Nature of Words,
And how Words
Can be sorcery
And how Words
Can be
Mercy.
You throw your day away contemplating
over the Devil’s deception,
Until you yourself become
part of his deception,
You wring your heart and beat
on your chest,
In righteous anger at the
Devil, at the unbelievers,
At the Jews, at the
Christians, at the Hindus,
But I see you there alone,
standing in front of the mirror,
And the only person I see you
harassing and haranguing
Is you and no one but
you...
There is no evil but evil,
And you have become the messenger of evil, o’ Man.
O’ Humanity, O’ Muslims, O' Sincerity, wake
up! Wake up!
.......................................
The Dajjal (Antichrist) is only One-eyed because, in truth, it cares for no one but itself...
The Spring of Democracy in the Middle East and North Africa has become the Spring of the Self, in an Age of the Self. Insufferably selfish, we-have-all-the-answers, down-with-the-old-and-up-with-the-new political movement with a million-headed hydra of individual fears, desires and hubris.
There are no real leaders because such leaders that they have follows the selfish self-centred whims and fancies of 'the people'. But they are not following the people, because the desires of the people are not the people themselves. But none understands this because the people sees their egos and themselves as one.
And that is the greatest tragedy in the Century of Self (which is coincidentally the title of this amazing BBC documentary. Just like the prose, the documentary is too long, 235 minutes. But worth every second, I think.).
May we all have a conscious day today, aware of ourselves and cautious of our ego, always.
I call him Katmir, after the loyal dog of the Seven Sleepers as
mentioned in the Holy Quran.
A Dog. Am I better than this dog? He's a couple of years old, born from a stray bitch that is also a familiar face around my office. Unlike some human-friendly dogs, he was not a family pet and then abandoned. But he has adopted the denizens of the Chinese kopitiam (coffeehouse) under my office, and they have adopted him. He stays close to the shop entrance, waiting for scraps and since the proprietor serves a myriad of dishes, he gets a pretty varied diet. A gentle tail-wagging creature, he often sits at the entrance of my office but would get out of the way anytime I come through. He is a good dog, he is. And I think he is a better dog than me.
Forgetfulness. A screeching hectoring voice came over the p.a. system of the mosque last Friday. It was one of those pre-Friday prayers tazkirah (mini-sermon, I guess...). I don't like screeching hectoring anything at the mosque so I grumble quietly under my breath, 'Bisingnye!' (Why so loud!). But as the ustaz (religious teacher) continued, I found his form and repartee quite engaging and funny. I found most interesting was his saying that we should not feel too bad if we forget. For as in everything that God has given to humanity, even this apparent weakness of forgetfulness is a divine gift. And as someone who beats his own head up a lot for forgetting (forgetting my car keys, forgetting my wallet, forgetting my reason... when I am in love), I was interested to hear what further things he had to say about my forgetfulness...
"God gave Mankind forgetfulness so He can have an excuse to forgive you, my friends!" the ustaz said. "After all, we forget to pray sometimes, we forget to fast and all sorts of promises that we made to God... in fact we do it all the time! If we were like Angels, made perfect in remembrance, we would be unpardonable. But we are not made thus, we are made to forget all manner of things... our tax returns, our wife's birthday and even our anniversary. So God who made us is best aware of our weakness and is most forgiving to us. But our wives? He he he... wives are not so forgiving.
So it is okay if you forget somethings sometimes. But of course, you should not forget everything! And definitely not your wife's birthday!"
Have a lovely Sunday, sunshine. I woke up this morning with a bright clear head. I hope you did too.
