ON THIS DAY WHEN THE SUN IS RED - farming, the haze and our greed and consumerism

Nothing seem to us more natural than farming. After all, our ancestors have been doing it since the first time they noticed how the sapling shoot out of the ground. With attention and care, they manage to replicate what mother nature does, but on a bigger scale.

Management of a Disturbed Eco-system. But truth be told, farming is anything but natural. As a professor cousin of mine once said, "Farming is the management of a disturbed eco-system". For you see, nature (naturally) doesn't want to create a mono-crop valley or meadow. Nature wants all sorts of crop and plants to grow, wherever and however it wants to. Nature doesn't need to answer to an annual general meeting of its shareholders, and explain why its profit has not increased this year. 

The Haze. One day perhaps, we shall look into the intensive farming industry and how it is generally affecting our world. But for today my focus is on The Haze. No, nature did not intend this for it is wholly man-made. The Haze has become an annual event here in south east asia, but most affected countries are Indonesia, Singapore and Malaysia. I have to focus on it because the acrid smell is everywhere. And if you can smell the smoke even in your washroom, you know that it must be very bad outdoors.

The Haze appears to be coming from the slash and burn clearing of forests in Indonesia, commonly in Sumatera and Kalimantan. And while we understand the Indonesians placing some of the blame on Malaysian and Singaporean multinational oil palm companies operating in the republic, ultimately the issue resides in the sovereign country of Indonesia and involves legal enforcement of its local laws. 

Indonesia. At the end of the day, Indonesia often considers itself the big brother of the south east asian region. Largest and most populated country here. But there is little point being touchy or sensitive about The Haze, when there is little doubt where The Haze originates from. Malaysian and Singaporean firms operate in Indonesia because Indonesia has a lot of land and labour, and I guess is relatively cost-effective to develop compared to other countries. If there are environmental laws that govern the problem of slash and burn clearing of forests or plantations, there is no other authority that can enforce the law but the Indonesian government.

A Symptom. The Indonesians are correct in that there must be some blaming finger pointing at the multinational mega-corporations. But the truth is that under the fiat (paper) money system and the overwhelming usurious global banking and credit system, megacorporations are animals bred to maximise profit, at whatever the cost to the environment. And the government of Indonesia, just like the governments of Malaysia and Singapore, are willing participants in this credit-consumer driven casino.

The Haze is a reflection of the human spirit, and in this context should we be surprised that we are reaping the firestorm of our greed and ostentatious consumerism? 

Something to think about, sunshine... on this day when the sun is red.

May Allah (s.w.t.) not leave humanity to our caprice. We seek guidance and support always from the Prophet of the Middle Path, Muhammad Habibullah (s.a.w.s.),

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

I am a Sign of the End of Time - prose from Singapore

The Sign of the End of Time

The man makes his way to the mosque,

And says, "The Key to my Heart is Morning Prayers at the Mosque..."

The traveler turns away from the world and the crowd

And says, "O' Lord, while I was all alone you kept me company,

But now that I am not alone, I seek your Divine Assurance still..."

The traveler makes his way out of the mosque,

And he hears a preacher man speak, "Now, let me tell you

About the Signs of the End of Time"

The man smiles hearing this and says to no one in particular,

"I am a Sign of the End of Time..."

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

Good morning, sunshine. I am back, arriving in Kuala Lumpur International Airport just a hair before 11pm. How have you been keeping in my absence? I trust all is well, insyaAllah...

The trip was good for me, work-wise as well as attending to matters that I have delayed to do in Singapore. The prose recorded above are the nuggets I have found trawling through the sleepiness of the soul, across the plain of reflection, alone and away from friends and family. And since this is Sunday and is a good day, I leave you, my beautiful spirit, with a lasting and difficult contemplation, but one worthy of your best effort - 

Patient Will

Patience is the unveiling of the Will,

All conquering over the arbitrary

And whimsical nature of

This world.

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

Have a lovely day, sunshine. Rest and relax...

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

TEN THOUSAND - the endless journey to cross the endless ocean of Muhammad Habibullah

Ten Thousand

I dream of you

And ten thousand moons,

Reflecting upon you skin

Of infinite sea,

I dream of you

And ten thousand skies,

With ten thousand meanings

Like stars clustering

In your eyes.

I dream of you

And read your ten thousand books,

And every beginning has another beginning

And every ending has another ending,

As if God never tires of writing about you,

I dream of you

Dreaming of me,

And were it not for your lessons, o' Prophet

I would not allow myself anywhere near you

Even if my journey is illuminated

By the light of the ten thousand moons,

By the stars of the ten thousand skies,

By the wisdom of the ten thousand books

Bearing your name, your stories and your life.

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

While in Singapore I chance upon a polite company of Sufis discoursing about saints, books and divine knowledge. And stupidly I felt a pang of jealousy, for I cannot speak of Allah(s.w.t.) and His Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) in that scholarly manner. I love books, and am a bookish man, but what I learn I often learn from the pain in my feet, the illness in my hands, the joy in my child, and the deep fathom waters of an eastern sea. I learn through hard painful lessons and the happiness of smiles and laughter that our spirit shares with us, in those rare quiet moments when the physical world blurs into the background and divine love manifests as the true guiding power of not only the spiritual world, but also the material world. 

And our ego becoming nothing but a beast of burden of our soul.

My friends, I would not suffer the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) my own company, in my worn and shabby piety, my sickly and diseased spirit, my bitterness and my jealousies. Were it not for his calling, "Come, come, come..." I would not even speak his name. I am like a stray dog outside the Prophet's home. 

So listen not to a stray dog, sunshine. Listen to the Prophet. Indeed, only in him is the surety for your safety, happiness and success in dunya (this world) and akhirat (the world hereafter).

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

I do not understand... but I understand love

I Do Not Understand, But I Understand Love

I do not understand the world sometimes,

Because the language most natural to me is love,

I do not understand the news sometimes,

Because the only news I know is love,

I do not understand people's anger and hate sometimes,

Because the only emotion I understand is love,

And by God, because of this

I sometimes do not even understand myself

And the angry and despairing creature

Standing in the mirror in front of me.

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

I am leaving for Singapore again today. But I would have no problem speaking there because almost all Singaporeans can speak English. And of course there are also Malays there who can speak Malay, although some of them tend to speak in a lingo or dialect a little strange to us Malaysian Malays. A little bit 1970s era kinda lingo. He he he.

But Chinese or Malay or English, everyone can speak the Language of Love. It is manifest in our attitude and character, our patience and fortitude, our mercy and compassion. As a sinner, I fear that despite my 42 years of life, I am still in the Kindergarten of Love, and it is unsafe to leave me to my own ego and its cunning devices - often I caught myself speaking and thinking in another language. The language of the ego. I pray always to God to guide me, and to take me closer to His anointed Master of the Language of Love, our  own benevolent and loving Muhammad (s.a.w.s.).

Geo-politics and the geo-politicians of this world like to paint the world of despair and confusion. But that is simply because they are painting their global perception with the ego. I often do this and hope to lessen my addiction to this most foul of habits.

So pray for me always, sunshine. And I shall pray for you.

Let us endeavour to always converse in the Language of Love.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Baghdad in Singapore, 'Development' in Mecca - work, heritage, religion and of course... food!

I went down to Singapore again for some legal work last weekend. I may gripe and bitch, I may moan and sigh, but truth be told, I like working. It gives me a sense of purpose, an urgency that is sometimes missing in my life. Sometimes it is a telephone call from a customer that actually wakes me up from my mid-morning 'oh-what-am-I-gonna-do-now' procrastination. But don't tell my customers that... they might want a legal fee rebate.

We had problems telling the Singaporean clientele where to meet us. "700 Beach
Street..." We said, and they would normally ask, "Yes la... but what is the name of
the building?" The name of the office tower is actually 700 Beach, being also the address.
Funny how things that should make life simpler ends up making it
a little more complicated. He he he.

But it was not all work of course. After a tiring but well-sorted day, we headed down to the Arab Street locality of Singapore. And I took some pictures also...

Alex, our head of property and banking. Awake until 2.00am sorting out the
contracts and signing schedules for tomorrow's session. I could barely keep my
eyes open by then. Over the weekend we sorted out 39 signings with an approximate
contract value of a hair below RM40 million. Our client would be happy.

Next morning, if you are a local of Jalan Sultan, you would find me at a restaurant
called The Sultan's Kitchen. If it was anywhere else in the world, such an outlet
would probably be selling Indian Muslim, Arab or Turkish food. But as it turns out
it was entirely Chinese. I had a strong cup of coffee to wake me up. As I sat outside
I saw an old Chinese man making his round collecting cans of soft (and hard) drinks
at the garbage bins outside for recycling money. It is a poignant reminder that even
in this very rich city state, there is poor among us, always. I think Jesus said that.
So that is my Jesus thought for the day.

In the evening, we walked the famous Arab Street, and wandered into the small
alleys and side streets nearby. We found a Haji Lane. And it was one way, so
we made our way as per the arrow...

There appears to be something going on down there. House techno music were
booming and crowds of people were mingling. This calls for further investigation
of two men with some time to spare in this city of lions.

People (mostly young kids and two weather-beaten lawyers) were standing around
shuffling and dancing in that I-don't-really-know-how-to-dance-but-I-will-fidget
-a little-so that-people-will-think-I-may actually-know-how-to-dance sorta way.
I call it the zombie shuffle. There was also a depressing realization by myself that me
and Alex were probably the oldest geezers in the vicinity. But Alex didn't mind at all.
Alex is a man with no emotions whatsoever.

I really wanted to get up close to take some shots of that fancy turntable that
the DJs were playing with. But I was too shy and this is the closest I approached
the Red-Bull sponsored street music team.

Who says there is no old culture in Singapore? Alex reckon that this cozy little
neighbourhood would soon be demolished to build towering condo apartments,
shopping malls and office blocks. But I don't think so. I really don't believe that the
Singaporean government (being the overbearing super micro-managing behemoth
that is is) is the kinda of organization that would overlook a neighbourhood to be
developed. For what it's worth, they have actually encouraged (and enforced) a
time-capsule in this Bugis district. So you would still find quaint old shops with
quaint old entrance and grill. I like.

And in the centre of it all is the Sultan Mosque, a declared national monument
(and still operating mosque) since 1976. In Mecca, the Arabs have gone ahead to
annihilate the old hotels and small street shops around the Masjidil Haram (where
resides the Holy Kaaba) to build grandiose hotels, shopping malls and a gigantic
clock tower overlooking the Muslim world's number one place and focus of worship.
Again, ironic how the secular Singaporeans know better how to treat their Sultan Mosque.

We finally ended up here before heading back to the hotel. This little itsy bitsy
tea shop is reputed to sell the best cheap milk tea in Singapore. But I must report
that I cannot agree with such an assessment. The Kampong Glam restaurant across
the street serves better tea. But then again, that is my taste...

For supper I bought curry puff (or karipap in our dialect), a pastry
with curried chicken and potato fillings. It was a bit bland for our
Malaysian tongue. There is Alex, looking in disbelief at the size of
the karipap. And truly the proportion of this humble street food was
a wonder to behold. As we stood up to walk back, a stranger passed by and
said that we shouldn't waste food like that, because we still left some karipap
on the plate. Alex actually brought back the leftover to eat as
we walked back.

You dont' have to go to Baghdad to get to Baghdad Street.
On the way back to our budget accommodations to rest.

I haven't written for a couple of days already. Alhamdulillah, I am happy to be in Kuala Lumpur. Singapore was fun and interesting (which is good because it looks like I may have to go down again this coming weekend), but there is of course no place like home. 

Don't you agree, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Gossamer Screen - beauty is the projection of power.

Beauty and Power

Beauty is just one

Of many devices

By which God projects 

His Power.

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

Singapore. I flew to Singapore yesterday for a day-trip at the behest of one of my clients. Like little legal gnomes, my group of lawyer friends guided and witnessed the signing of more than 40 contracts for the purchase of apartments by the well-to-do citizens of the southern city-state. I do mostly corporate stuff, but I sometimes help out my partner, Alex, in this conveyancing work (sale and purchase of real property), and I do enjoy dealing with retail customers... talking to real human personalities up-front, rather than through the corporate veil of companies and organizations... For you see, people think differently when they are spending their own money, as opposed to the company's money. It is a welcome change.

Beauty. The rain has been pouring like nobody's business these past couple of weeks, and as we took the morning flight I saw white plumes of cloud rising majestically in the sunny sky. And it was the memory of me and Alex flying fearlessly in a tin cylinder through the heavens that made me think later this morning - that beauty is the projection of power.

Eternal Beauty. And how strange it is for most people to fall for transient beauty when the eternal beauty and power of God is there, clear as day, looming over our lives like the clouds and storms in the sky, or intimately close to us, in the form and beautiful aspects of our children... 

The Gossamer Screen

You have witnessed it yourself, 

God is projecting His power 

upon the  thin gossamer 

screen of your life.

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

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

God replied 'Hayy' - sweet labour and the divine duvet

God Replied 'Hayy'

The best thing about working

Is to end the day so tired

And worn, like a rag ready

To be hanged on the clothes line,

And to have just enough energy

To say, “Hullo, God…” in a tired sigh

And to hear God, my Sweet Loving God, reply, “Hayy…”

…………………………

My bones are aching, my throat is dry and my eyes are blinking from lack of sleep. It was an interesting working trip to Singapore yesterday, sunshine. I am fortunate to have work and to be able to do what I love to do. Not many people can say that, I think.

It is a common Western (global now) greeting to say “Hi”. I wonder if people know that it is also one of the divine names / attributes of God to mean (and let me be expansive here by quoting a website) – The Living, The Alive, The Everlasting, The Deathless, The Ever-living.

Wow. That’s a lot of living. It is funny that when I am most tired, when I feel that my soul has been stretched for a good 14 hours, and I just wanna fall into my bed lifeless, that it is this particular name of God that is most comforting to me, just like...

A Divine Duvet

The lifeless me falling into the embrace of the Ever-living,

The cold-blooded me falling into the warmth of the Ever-loving,

The ignorant me falling into the knowledge of the All-knowing,

Pulling the divine duvet over my still body,

And whispering to God, “Thank You for today…

It was hard, but it was lovely…”

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

And now it is Monday again. May you have a lovely beginning of the week, sunshine

Wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Fear God for what you might miss out - about God, Prophet, mankind and other useful information...

Fear God

Fear God for what He may grant to you,

For instead of giving you

What He desires for you,

He gives you want you desire.

……………………………..

We do not know what's good for us sometimes. Probably, most of the time. I think this is a plain simple truth. And although we may know that God always wants what is good for us, what God actually wants for us (and of us) is often a point of debate and conjecture.

So to avoid all sorts of silliness, God has sent down holy books, Messengers and Prophets to mankind, the last holy book being the al-Quran and the last Messenger being Muhammad ibn Abdullah, the Seal of the Messengers, the Chosen One, the Most Beloved of God(pbuh). God saved the best for last, you see. Just like in every good movie you have ever seen. And even this gripping, nail-biting ending is being drawn out over many, many years, as the spiritual station of the Prophet Muhammad(pbuh) rises and rises and rises.

So fear God indeed, for many reasons. Another reason being that you might miss out on His Most Excellent gift to us and to all Creation... our Prophet Muhammad(pbuh).

I must leave you for a while, sunshine. No postings at all tomorrow as I am going for a day trip to Singapore. Yes, for work. And yes, on a Sunday! 

No rest for the wicked...

Hehehe.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Sinner in The Lion City - pictures tell stories

I was in Singapore, but the sinner was not chilling in a glass
of Singapore Sling (a famous concoction). I was there
for work with a bunch of my chums from the office.

Over the weekend, the sinner and a couple of other sinners visited the Lion City (that's Singapore, sunshine) for work. Professionally it was an eye-opener for me. Physically however it was an eye-closer as we returned to our hotel rooms at night tired and mentally drained. But then again, if it was not difficult and a little tiresome, work wouldn't be work and nobody would wanna pay us just to have fun in Singapore, I guess. Hehehe. I took some pictures when I was there, and the pictures have some stories to tell...

While I was in Singapore, I wondered whether they had a cabinet position for
the Minister for Trees. The city, cosmopolitan, brash and energetic has its unruly
tempers dampened by the avenues lined with old trees, even in the heart of the business
district. I admire this about our southern neighbours.

Busy, busy, busy handling the clientele. Our partner, Alex is respectfully given the
moniker by my other partner as the "manusia takde perasaan" or loosely translated
to mean "the man with no feelings". But of course he does. He just doesn't get flustered
or angry very easily. This is a good trait to have in any line of work, I think.

But "the man with no feelings" was emotionally disturbed by the no smoking signs
that litter this otherwise perfect city. Even here, at the Newton Food Centre where you
are eating alfresco under the night sky, you are not permitted to smoke.
"This is unnatural!" I fumed as Alex nodded philosophically.

The property market here is stagnating a little. From our little
chats with the locals, we came across some sentiment of worry and uncertainty,
concerning the increase in the cost of living, high property prices and the squeezing
of the lower class amid the influx of competitive migrant labour. 

In my earlier posting I commented on how many of the holy sites around
the world always has a large pigeon community resident... in Medina, Mecca and
Jerusalem. Well, the pigeons are well represented here in Orchard Road, which I guess is a
temple of sort to the god of ostentatious consumerism.
Oh well. To each his/her own choice of faith / lifestyle.

We don't feed the pigeons, but they flock near nonetheless. Coming within a foot
of our err... feet. Some less sentimental souls like to describe pigeons as flying rodents.

Flying home on a budget airline. But it is still the same sky, whether you are
flying first class, business class or cattle class, you know. And the clouds are
as voluptuous as always. There is something about clouds that often makes me
wanna grab my camera and take pictures. God simply loves to show
off His artistic talent, I think. 

I like to wander through the mega book stores here, but we were strapped for time
during this visit. At the airport however I managed to steal away these two titles.
I have always loved Karen Armstrong's writing. I think she is inspired. In a world
full of hate, hyperbole and hubris, her considered prose is a calming
sea of reason and love.

I was pleased to come home. But travel is important I believe. It allows your soul to flex its horizons as your senses drink in different sights, food, people and way of life. Then you mix the new ingredients in the well of your soul and come to the conclusion... Oh Lord, how beautiful You have made this world to be. And how wonderfully lucky are we to be part of it. Thank you for taking the trouble to create us!

And thank you, sunshine, for travelling across the finite cyberspace to visit my almanac. Always happy to have your company.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

A Wimpy Kid, Rupert Murdoch, the Amazing Lounging Chair, the Malaya Tigers and the venerable Assam Laksa

Mika has been playing too much with his laptop. So last week I took him to the bookshop to buy some books. I noticed that he has been buying books a bit too mature for him, so this time around I persuaded him to choose something a little nearer to his age group. He chose this book. I haven't seen him hold the book since that day! I reckon it is time for tough love.

Some of our friends are right happy about the sudden turn of events with Murdoch's News of the World debacle. I am only slightly interested. But I do find it strange how democratic countries can permit News Corp to own so many of its important newspapers and television networks. It doesn't really encourage debate and diverse views. Of course all owners of newspapers, networks and news organisations say that they have limited or no editorial control. That is an interesting fiction.

My father purchased this lounge chair some 7 years ago. Well, actually it is a lounging chair and the sole purpose of this chair is to lounge in our porch area. It is CERTAINLY NOT to be sat on. I have never actually seen my dad use it.

This is our Malaysian football team. We had a second World Cup qualifying round game with Singapore last Thursday. The Bukit Jalil National Stadium tickets were sold out within hours and 90,000 Malaysians braved our traffic jam to go and support our team. We lost in the 1st game so had to win by a clear 2 goals margin to make it through to the next round.  

Alas, Malaysia only drew and we are kicked out of the World Cup qualifiers. Late on Thursday night I went to 7-11, and nearby I saw many, many Malaysian supporters in the yellow and alternate blue jerseys. There were many Indians, a couple of Chinese and Malays commiserating each other about our defeat. We may have lost the match, but I am happy to see that we have not yet lost our constant struggle for harmony in this country. I salute my countrymen, who for once dropped their racial and religious division to fully support our players. I am happy.

And to end this posting on a victorious note, Malaysian newspapers (and let's be honest, Malaysians too) reveled  in our local dish 'Assam Laksa' in winning 7th place in a recent CNN International Food Survey, beating our neighbour Singapore which only landed a 35th ranking for the republic's 'Chilli Crab'. The Assam Laksa is a rice noodle dish served in a fish broth, filled with slices of pineapples, cucumber, chili pepper, mint leaves and small chunks of fish. And normally people would add the prawn paste for extra tanginess. Here in my country, restraint is a word non-existent in our food vocabulary.

I don't have much tale of my own to sell today. The day is beginning a little quiet here. Perhaps it is good to rest for a while. There is just so much the world can take of spiritual-mystical-sinner monologues. Hehehe. Maybe later.

Have a delicious Sabbath, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa.

Books connect us all, Lat, Marmaduke Pickthall and Yusuf Ali

This being the auspicious month of July (auspicious that is, because it's my birth month, hehehe, and that fella Julius Ceaser's), I received my 20% discount voucher from my fav local book shop. I went to its nearest outlet and bought some books. Considering the number of books I am still reading, I decided to buy comics by Malaysia's numero uno satirist called Lat (4 of his books), a graphic novel prelude of the current Transformers movie for Mika (okay, okay... I was curious to read it too), an Indian-based epic entitled 'Shantaram' for Heche (she is big into Indian romance / drama / family / mythology literature written by both Indians and non-Indians) and another little non-fiction for me called 'Brave Hearts', about two influential Muslim British converts, messrs Pickthall and Philby.

I was particularly curious of Marmaduke Pickthall because the first ever english translation of the holy Quran which I saw in my house was by him. Many years on, while studying in Leeds University, I acquired another Quranic translation by Yusuf Ali, whose biography 'Searching for Solace' was written by the very same author of 'Brave Hearts', M.A. Sherif. So I am doubly curious now.

Lat is an amazing cartoonist, and for the longest time he has been depicting Malaysian life at its funniest. In a world where 'face' and pride is uber important, he has somehow been given considerable leeway and elbow room to poke fun at our politicians, including from the ruling incumbent. I think this is partly because his cartoons are never particularly vicious, and is just funny without any particular political agenda as pro or anti establishment. His personal story is his best work, recalling his life as a boy in Perak, and later his early years in the New Straits Times newspaper as a cub reporter. Below is a particularly hilarious cartoon of two titans in our political landscape - Dr. Mahathir and Lee Kwan Yew, the former Prime Ministers of Malaysia and Singapore.

I love books, comics and reading. In some ways, I have never really grown up at all. And for this little solace, I am thankful.

Have a lovely Sunday, sunshine. Read any good books lately?

Pax Taufiqa.

A footnote on “Brave Hearts” : The other Muslim English man in the book, Philby (as in Harry St. John Bridger Philby), also piqued my interest because while reading “A Climate of Treason” by Andrew Boyle many years ago (a book whose attempted ban was so unsuccessfully attempted by the Thatcher government), I came across a Philby as in the father of Kim Philby, a notorious member of the Cambridge spyring. I remembered how the younger Philby adored and idolized the father, who was often missing, making headways in the diplomatic scene in the Middle East. I didn’t want to mention it earlier as I haven’t actually read the book, but having perused the first few pages, I was right… this Philby is indeed the Philby whose personality I became acquainted with in a book about British spies and Russian agents – again the books connect to one another.