TRUE REALITY OF LOVE, FAITH & HOPE - where hearts asunder are made whole once again...

Somewhere... not far from us, I am sure Poone is waiting. Al-fatiha...

He Never Left, We Have Yet to Arrive.

What is "not here"

When "here" is not really here?

What is "has passed on"

When he has passed on

From the transient to the permanent?

What is death but a door,

To a promised meeting

Foretold long, long ago.

So what is the truth of our present condition?

Our departed friends and kin never really left us,

And we...?

We are the ones yet to arrive.

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

A Happy Gift on an Anniversary. I have been thinking a lot of my late brother, Saiful Bahri a.k.a. Abang Chik to me and Poone to his many devoted friends. A couple of days ago, on the Gregorian calendar date that marks the passing of almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibn Sultan Raja Azlan Muhibuddin Shah, I received an anonymous Whatsapp message. As it turned out, it was Pian, my friend and younger brother to my spirit brother, Ariffin, who also happens to be my partner in our law firm. Pian said that while browsing pictures in his phone, he happened to come across some pictures of Poone (I will refer to my brother that way, as most people reading this will most likely call him by the same traditional Malay nickname for Saiful. Yeah... don't ask me how "Saiful" becomes "Poone". It's a Malay thing) taken during their trip to the international horseback archery competition held in Amman, Jordan in 2012.

Poone standing on the far right, with my beloved Sarawakian companions of Umrah 2011
who are coincidentally my brother's companions for his Jordanian 2012 trip.
On the far left is Moses, completing the fellowship.

Poone with his namesake, Saiful Bahri and Ijan, with a couple of the
Royal Jordanian Calvary soldiers. My brother makes friends easily, just like
our late mother. I wish I have such a talent. 

Poone, resplendent in traditional Malay attire, the Baju Melayu. And there sitting
close to him is Ariffin. 

The Third Eye. I am tired of using my physical eyes. They often mislead me, making me see what I want to see, hiding many, many beautiful secrets and signs that Allah (swt) has left for us here, still stuck in this world. With three of the most gentlest people (My late mother, Ku Ash and Poone) I know now not visible to my eyes, I have acquired a habit of looking with my other eye. The third eye that is the spiritual heart which we all own. It is not out of faith or religion that I do so. I do it because I am yearning for something that is not available directly and physically in our plane of reality. Selfishly, I am yearning for those whom I have been separated from, wanting to feel their presence, thirsty for their kind words, their gentle smile and assuring embrace.

So I ask God Almighty, and His Beloved Muhammad (saws). I ask that my third eye may be opened for me to see, and to feel their presence. And sometimes, I do. In the dead of night all alone, or even in a crowded place. Their faces, their presence grow within me while this world and all its distractions recede into the background, barely a murmur in the true reality of Love, Faith and Hope.  

So you see... the prose is right all along. The deceased never really left us, we are the ones still yet to arrive.

The Boss... al fatiha...

May Allah bless our journey home. May His Muhammad Habibullah (saws) be our captain and master, and guide us safely to the Divine Presence where hearts asunder are made whole once again.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way