The Movie 300, History and the Freaky Nature of Time - Prose of Ramadhan Part 12

In '300' there is a lot of screaming half-naked men. It makes up for the nauseating 'message' of the movie.

24. For freedom or for the King?

Historians are prone

To garnish history

With the trends

Of today.

Imputing alien ideas

And foreign motivation

To those who cannot,

Alas, respond.

We too,

Could be labeled the same,

Save that the subjects

Of our constant study,

Do react,

Most passionately.

Hahaha!

Our predecessors are reacting now.

And they are telling us,

"We studied you

Before you studied us."

RATIONALISM AND FREEDOM? REALLY? The prose above was recorded soon after watching the movie '300' some years back. My pet peeve about the movie is essentially the gross misrepresentation of history. In those feudal days, really, let's be sensible, nobody fought wars for 'rationalism' or 'freedom'. They fought because they had to. They fought because if they didn't, their kings, barons and warlords would probably decapitate them in a show of royal displeasure. They fought as part of an ancient contract between the ruler and the ruled based essentially on loyalty and servitude from the peasants, in payment for some protection and benefits from their masters.

A POTTER? HAHAHA! In one famous scene, the Spartans met a bunch of Arcadians who came to join them in trying to defend Greece from the Persian King Xerxes. Oh, how they mocked their fellow Greeks who admitted that they were essentially part-time warriors drafted for the butchery. All the Arcadians had proper day jobs like a porter or a farmer, which I thought was an admirable notion. Yet for the Spartan King Leonidas, it was something to look down upon, because in Sparta, the only honourable job (it seems) was to be a soldier. What the good King forgot to mention was that this was only possible because Sparta used to raid its neighbours for slaves to farm their land and perform all those sort of menial chores unbecoming of a true Spartan. Oh God... what a bunch egoistical wombats.

No, he ain't Spartan. He's Australian. I like him because
unlike Spartan Kings, he doesn't go about screaming at people.

And of course the opening scene where the Spartans dumped the less than perfect babies into a ravine did not actually ingratiate me to them. So through out the entire movie, I was willing Leonidas to lose, and really the whole of Sparta to be consumed in a Persian conquest. Of course, it wasn't so. But that is what happens when you disconnect facts from history.

TIME IS NOT LINEAR. I do not think that time is linear. I do not think that the moment that just passed merely went kaput and stop existing, having no further effect on the present and future. I think that the entire TimeScape is like the cartoon centrespread of a Sunday newspaper. I do believe that the past continues to exist even as time moves inexorably forward. And I do believe that the ancient (well, perhaps not all, but the more thoughtful ones) have already read about us, their descendants, long before we ever made our first appearance in the delivery room of the hospital. I can imagine it now... one of my ancestors reading about me, some thousand years ago...

Oh boy... Why do I always get the hopeless cases?

Have a wonderful day, sunshine. This day has been prepared for you an eternity ago. So enjoy it while it lasts!

Pax Taufiqa.

The Martyrs of Conscience, Norway - Prose of Ramadhan Part 11

Undoubtedly the most harrowing time to be wearing this badge. Poor guy.

A couple of days back, I found that the Norwegian Ministry of Justice & Police in its website (Click Here) had issued out the final list of the deceased victims of the Norwegian massacre. Less than a fortnight after the attack, the Norway tragedy headlines have all ebbed away in most mainstream media, with the highest focus currently on the US Congress-White House tussle on the impending debt default of US government debt papers (Well, Obama signed off the debt limit legislation into law a few hours ago) . But for me and my friends, the story has not passed its expiry date. So many people. So many very young men and women in the bloom of their priceless youth, murdered in cold blood. And in Norway of all places. And it appears to be by a single perpetrator - a 30-something blond Scandinavian espousing some mad crusade against immigration, Marxism, liberalism and of course, everyone's current favourite villain, 'Islam'.

People like to comment, "Oh, let not their death be in vain." And it shan't be. Whether the world wakes up to the bigoted, narrow-minded, extremist and violent ideology of Islamophobia which is spreading its wings in the US and Europe, their passing shall not be in vain. The innocent have become caught in the crossfire of two mad and hubris-centric dogmas, between the fanatical 'Judeo-Christian Civilisation' and the maniacal 'Islamic Civilisation'. I am forced to put the faiths all in open and close inverted commas because in all honesty, I do not believe that such insane people represent the reality of their religion. Frankly, whether he is a blond Scandinavian 'crusader' or a brunette Arabian 'jihadi', in truth they are plying the Religion of Hubris. They just call their idols (which is actually their egos masquerading as god) by different names. They collectively worship at the altar of hate which requires constant human sacrifice. We must continue to reject these followers of death and destruction in whatever religious or political mould that they are hiding in. 

In this blessed month of Ramadhan, let us read the names of the fallen. Read when they were born and their origin. Someone shall be missing them come their next birthdays. Their father and mother, grandparents, their siblings and lovers. Their teachers and classmates. Their pastor and preacher. The postman that used to deliver their Valentine cards. The owner of the corner shop down the road from their house. Their barber and best friend. Their pet dog/cat/parakeet. May God, the Creator of All, Bless their passing and send unto them Prophets, Saints and Angels to guide their after life. We too shall join them one day. Let us remember them and their bereaving families in our prayers. 

THE MARTYRS OF CONSCIENCE

Guys MUSTAFA Qasim born 22.02.92, from Vestby. ANDREAS EDVARDSEN born 30.11.92, from Sarpsborg. RONJA Sweet JOHANSEN born 03.02.94, from Vefsn. EMIL OKKENHAUG born 02.11.95, from Levanger. Asta SOFIE Helland DAHL born 19.11.94, from Sortland. MONICA Iselin Didriksen born 18.02.93, from Sund, RUNE Havdal born 16.12.67, from Upper Spokes. TORE EIKELAND born 18.05.90, from Bergen. ESPEN JØRGENSEN born 06.06.94, from Bodo. KARIN ELENA HOLSTER born 18.08.95, from Rana. Aleksandar AAS ERIKSEN born 29.08.94, from Meråker. VICTORIA Stenberg born 23.10.93, from Nes. RUTH BENEDICHTE VATNDAL NILSEN born 01.10.95, from Tønsberg. ISABEL VICTORIA GREEN SOGN born 18.03.94, from Oslo. IDA Beathe EGGS born 08.11.93, from East Toten. ELISABETH Trønnes LIE born 09.03.95, from Halden. MONICA ELISABETH Bosei born 1/20/66, from Hole. HÅVARD lived HOUSING born 10.11.89, from Oslo. CARINA BORGUND born 25.03.93, from Oslo. INGRID BERG Heggelund born 20.09.92, from Ås. Tarald Kuven Mjelde born 23.01.93, from Osterøy. PORNTIP ARDAM born 18.01.90, from Oslo. Andrín GROUND Espeland born 30.07.94, from Fredrikstad. Torjusen Jakobsen BLATT MANN born 19.09.93, from Kristiansand. Rafal Jamil Mohamad Jamil born 05.03.91, from Eigersund. TINA SUKUVARA born 02.09.92, from Vadsø. FREDRIK LUND Schjetne born 16.08.92, from Eidsvold. STEINAR JESS born 17.01.95, from Alta. Lejla SELACI born 09.01.94, from Fredrikstad. HENRIK RASMUSSEN born 18.02.93, from Hadsel. THOMAS Margido ANTONSEN born 25.06.95, from Oslo. MONA ABDINUR born 03.02.93, from Oslo. Anders Kristiansen born 30.01.93, from Bardstown. JON VEGARD Lervåg born 17.02.79, from Oslo (ministries). IDA MARIE HILL born 20.02.77, from Oslo (ministries). HANNE Ekroll Løvlien born 29.06.81, from Oslo (ministries). Tamta LIPARTELLIANI born 7/1/88, from Georgia. KEVIN Daae Berland born 6/24/96, from Askøy. SILJE Stamnes HAGEN born 5/15/93, from Askøy. Hanna Kristine FRIDTUN born 8/15/91, from Stryn. KJERSTI SAND BERG born 10.10.84, from Nord-Odal (ministries). HÅKON ØDEGAARD born 5/18/94, from Trondheim. SONDRE Furseth DALE born 2/19/94, from Haugesund. Henrik Pedersen born 2/19/84, from Porsanger. Eivind Hovden born 1/26/96, from Tokke. ROLF CHRISTOPHER JOHANSEN PERREAU born 6/9/86, from Trondheim. SVERRE FLEET Bjørkavåg born 1/1/83, from Sula. EVA Kathinka LÜTKEN born 3/7/94, from Sarpsborg. Ismail Haji AHMED born 8/23/91, from Hamar. MARIA MAAGERØ JOHANNESEN born 3/24/94, from Sem. MODUPE ELLEN AWOYEMI born 8/14/95, from Drammen. LENE MARIA Bergum born 16.03.92, from Namsos. Guro Vartdal HÅVOLL born 6/17/93, from Ørsta. MARIANNE SANDVIK born 3/14/95, from Stavanger. ANDREAS DALBY Grønnesby born 7/16/94, from Strange. SONDRE DRIVING born 6/16/94, from Orkdal. BENDIK ROSNÆS ELLINGSEN born 1/26/93, from Rygge. Gizem Doğan born 1/5/94, from Trondheim. SNORRE HALLER born 4/29/81, from Trondheim. JOHANNES MUO born 5/11/96, from Mandal. SHARIDYN SVEBAKK-Bohn born 7/17/97, from Drammen. SILJE MERETE Fjellbu born 13.11.93, from Tin. HANNE A. Balch Fjalestadborn: 13.10.67 from Lunner. BAÑO ABOBAKAR Rashid born: 28.12.92, from Nesodden. Syvert Knudsen born: 21.08.93, from Lyngdal. Diderik AAMODT OLSEN born: 03.06.92, from Nesodden. SIMON SÆBØ born: 25.07.92, from Salang. Synnà Røyneland born: 18.01.93, Oslo. ANNE LISE HOLTET born: 16.09.59, from Norway, Østfold (ministries).TROND BERNTSEN born: 12.05.60, from the Upper Spokes. BIRGITTE SMETBAK born: 25.02.96, from Sem. MARGRETHE Bøyum Clubs born: 03.03.95, from Bærum. EVEN FLUGSTAD Malmedal born: 06.12.92, from Gjøvik. GUNNAR LINAK born 7/7/88, from Bardstown. TOVE ÅSHILL KNUTSEN born 31.07.54, Oslo (ministries). HANNA M. Orvik ENDRESEN born 21.03.50, Oslo (ministries). KAI HAUGE born 31.07.78, Oslo (ministries).

In a Place where Time is Subservient to Love - Prose of Ramadhan Part 10

Lo, The Lord Cometh! (Ramadhan Verses #9)

When you were born

A veil of forgetfulness

Was drawn between you

And your time with your Lord

In the Day of Promises.

Lo, that now you cannot remember

Your unconditional love for your Lord!

Perchance you care to recall,

Let me share with you that…

The Lord has ever loved you

From the moment He created you,

The Lord has not ceased loving you

For one moment since then,

And verily do you know that

The Lord’s moments are

Unlike yours and mine?

His seconds are like an ocean of seconds,

His minutes are like a universe of minutes,

And His hours are an infinity of hours

Expanding forever in a place where

Time is subservient to Love.

Yet we count our moments

In remembrance and prayers

As a fine trade for what

Our Lord has bequeathed us!

While you sigh, falter and

Complain of tiredness,

He, Who is Ever-Awake

And Tireless is forever

Attending to your needs.

While we are distracted

And forgetful, our Lord Most Loving

Is neither distracted nor forgetful.

And while we release our consciousness

To fall into our nightly sleep,

Who is it that is still awake and

Cares over us in our defenseless slumber?

Lo, is it not our Lord?

And in comparison

Who is the poet so vain

In his timid prose for God,

When God Himself has already raised

The dominion of man over

All Creation?

Who is the mercy-giver

Counting pennies and smiles

As good charity,

When the All Merciful Lord

Has given mankind the

Key to His Treasury?

Lo, is that not you and I?

Yet, it is not your fault

That the veil has been

Drawn between you and

Your beautiful memories

With God, before you

Were born gently

From the womb

Of your mother

Into this world.

But now that you

Have read this

And you verily know,

Cease your endless

Grasping for straws of certainty

In a world that is by its nature uncertain,

Recite, ‘in the Name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful’

Then extend your right hand to draw open

The Veil of Forgetfulness

That is forever impeding

Your happiness.

No, wait! The veil is drawing itself aside,

Ah, you have left it for too long, my friend…

Lo, The Lord Cometh!

Love can wait. But sometimes Love cannot wait. Not that we really have a choice about it. Not when the All-Loving and All-Affectionate Chooses to cometh upon us.

Look out, my vacilitating friend! The Lord is Cometh behind thee!

I guess God may be cometh to us all the time, but it is only we that often goeth away in our cluttered life and cluttering indecisions about ourselves, not comprehending who we really are. Luckily for us, in this tumultuous relationship, the other side is God Himself, Most Unswerving in His Love for us, and Most Forgiving in His Compassion for us.

This is the 2nd day of Ramadhan. Hope things are going well for you, sunshine, wherever you may be!

Pax Taufiqa.

The Owner of Heaven and Earth - Prose of Ramadhan Part 9

Last Night, the Owner of Heaven and Earth asked me (Ramadhan Verses #8)
God does not rise with the sun,
Nor set in the evening tide,
God did not come and go
Like the wind at night,
Nor was He ever still
Like a mountainside.
God is not like the sky
Nor is He the Rain
At my door.
God is not a kiss
Generous or short,
Nor is He the embrace
In my mother’s dream.
God is not the marriage contract,
Nor the bargain between two merchants,
God is not the music, nor the song,
He is not the Ocean,
To these transient things
His nature does not belong.
But in His Keeping
Do all things belong -
Loveliness in prose.
Moses in repose.
The sun at its peak,
The moon at its fullness,
Thus, are you not happy with the earth,
That you need heaven to spur
You to goodness?

HEAVENLY HOUSE. Heaven must be a lovely place. In its brochures and other assorted marketing materials of the Almighty (also known as the holy scriptures), He goes no holds barred about just how fine your heavenly abode could be. “I am not selling you a house” God is saying. “I am selling you a home. Behave yourself and this celestial crib is yours freehold for all eternity.”

GOD’S MARKETING MEN. And such is God’s ambition for you, that He has created and anointed a line of Prophets to make sure that not only does the marketing reaches you, but it is done by the very best of salesmen, Noah, Abraham, Joseph, Aaron, etc… You know, the sort of guys that could sell iceboxes to Eskimos. After sales services is later provided by the Saints.

NOAH. Actually, I think if I was to ask saay… Noah himself, he would reply that “Selling iceboxes to Eskimos? I could do that in my sleep! Try guiding mankind to goodness!”

GET ME OUTTA HERE! I AM A CELEBRITY! Hehehe. I do not know if I will get to heaven. It is my cunning plan to write the stuff that I write and reach as many readers as possible – that way the chance that some (or perhaps even all of you) of my readers will get to heaven will be better. Just remember that if you don’t find me there, make sure to ask God nicely, “Oh God… where is Taufiq? Can you bring him here, wherever his vices has landed him at…”

You know, I would be so grateful… and thank you in advance for your future heavenly intervention, sunshine. I am counting on you!

Pax Taufiqa.

GOD'S GLUE FACTORY - Prose of Ramadhan Part 8

A couple of days earlier, I recorded a prose entitled ‘I won’t stay to say goodbye’ which was kindly hosted by the faithful barkeep of the Camel Saloon, Mr. Streur. Click Here to read the entire poem, but this is how it begins –

O’ fear, you have long haunted me,
O’ failure, you have long dogged my steps,
O’ hate, you have long coloured my view,
O’ misery, you follow upon your brethren’s way
And often darken my day…

ONE STEP. Fasting in Ramadhan is not just about restraining from eating and drinking from sunrise to sunset. At the centre of its purpose, it is also to restrain ourselves from acting upon the darker inclinations which often form part of the human psyche. Of course, better still to totally rid ourselves of this mortal encumbrances, but if you are not able to (and I find it tough), then at least, to will ourselves against acting upon such negative impulses is already a good change. One step at a time.

GOD'S GLUE FACTORY. As a certified sinner, I often fail. What else can I do but pick the pieces of my hopes and try to glue them back together again. Happily, I have a key to God’s Glue Factory, and He lets me have as much glue as I need to piece back together my broken promises and dreams. He is All-Wonderful that way.

Good night, my friends. Tomorrow beckons, and I hope to receive it with a smile on my face. Sweet dreams.

Pax Taufiqa.

Lewis Carroll - Life, what is it but a dream? - Prose of Ramadhan Part 7

A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky

BY LEWIS CARROLL

A boat beneath a sunny sky,

Lingering onward dreamily

In an evening of July —

Children three that nestle near,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Pleased a simple tale to hear —

Long has paled that sunny sky:

Echoes fade and memories die:

Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,

Alice moving under skies

Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,

Dreaming as the days go by,

Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream —

Lingering in the golden gleam —

Life, what is it but a dream?

Well, we are coming to the end of the 1st day of Ramadhan. And in the sort of generous (and admittedly, lazy) spirit that I am in, I have decided not to write any prose this evening. Instead, my brother last night directed my attention to the above poem written by Lewis Carroll (1832 - 1898) from his second book. 

While I am not really a poetry reader, I appreciate a good yarn when I read one. And I think this poem is simply splendid. Have a wonderful day, sunshine. But however the day may turn, isn't just life simply a dream?

Pax Taufiqa.

Ahmad Shah Massoud, the Lion of Panjshir Chapter 1 - Prose of Ramadhan Part 6

The Lion of Panjshir (Ramadhan Verses #7)

Massoud, where are you now?

You were the breath of Islam

And you maintained the balance

In the Path of the Middle Way,

The Path of the Nation of Muhammad.

Massoud, what are you doing now?

You were the handsome leader,

The Commander of men,

Lettered and wise, feeling with emotion

The Feeling that a true leader should have.

Why did they want you dead?

Massoud, who are you smiling at now?

Beneath the sky of God,

You fought for your people

On the soil of your ancestors,

But some were ashamed of you,

Because they did not understand

The Light of Love that animated

Your strength and your compassion.

Massoud, how are you?

You who once surveyed the land

From the top of a mountain,

And you look upon your nation,

Tired, poor and dispossessed,

But you saw the coming of the pirates,

Who came to your valley with

A foreign hatred and a foreign bullet.

They said they were Muslims, these Talibans and al-Qaedas

But what faith were they following?

You stood in their way,

And with certainty you said,

“I reject you and your horrifying interpretations!”

Massoud, who are your companions now?

This Ramadhan, once again I know

That you are not with me anymore.

You have left us and only ghosts

And whispers are left of you

To counsel us, to caution us.

You were the Lion of Panjshir,

But you shall always be to me

The Lion of Islam,

For I claim you

In the name of

The Nation.

How can the world now forget

Massoud?

Who tried in his own tireless way

To do good?

This man, Ahmad Shah Massoud was instrumental in the defeat of the Soviet invasion and occupation of his homeland, Afghanistan. Later he was murdered in a lowly and cowardly assassination by the ruthless mechanism of his own co-religionists, when he rejected the Taliban and al-Qaeda as portraying a very wrong idea of Islam. His passing marked the end of the one real hope for the country before it fell into the hands of the evildoers.

"The only thing standing in the way of future Taliban massacres is Ahmad Shah Massoud."

—National Geographic, "Inside the Taliban"(2007)

I expect to be writing more about him during this month, ergo, this is Chapter 1.

Osama bin Laden is a blurry footnote of a footnote of a footnote in the page of history that belongs to Ahmad Shah Massoud. And with the killer’s demise, his mad ideology should perish too. But I fear that people will remember Osama more than Massoud - the Muslim bodypolitik are so easily manipulated, and a large chunk of Muslims are showing time and time again, why they do not deserve a leader like the Lion of Panjshir.

When leaders like Massoud is shining upon the Muslim nation, their compassion and courage only shows up the horrible ugliness of those other ‘Muslim leaders’ who continue to defame the Prophet’s legacy by their hate, hubris, arrogance and violence. Such managers of suicide-bombers and 'moral guardians' may be sincere in their convictions, but madmen can be sincere too, so we reject them utterly.

Especially in this holy month, we shall give them no quarter, and no respite.

wa min Allah at-taufiq