WHEN A STORY BECOMES YOUR HISTORY... how belief transmutes a mere tale into your own personal past

They Found Me
I found them that night,

Nightingales without wings,

Oh how they sang for their king!

I found them that night,

Weaving love in the night air

With their enchanted words!

I found them that night,

Swaying to and fro in a conference of birds,

Swaying to and fro, all perched in many rows,

I found them that night,

Me, the beggarly crow,

An unfit, uninvited shadow in the assembly,

Or so my reason did quell me,

Until came this ancient whisper,

Assuring the broken sinner,

“You did not find us,

We found you,

Tired and torn

Weary and worn,

We found you unspoken for,

So we said unto the Prophet…

We will take him.

This was the trade we made,

Long, long, ago…

This was the oath we took from you,

Long, long ago…

This was the love promised,

Long, long ago…

As the nightingales sang and dance,

Whirling and swaying to and fro..."

These words were spoken long, long ago
How I wish I could remember...

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

When you think about it (and why not?), your past antecedents and your personal history make who you are now. The things you have done (or not done), the words you have spoken (or omitted to speak) in your past, these direct personal experiences have all conditioned your attitude towards God, mankind and the world. But there is also another contributor to your personality... 

Your belief.

In the Sufi school whose zawiya resides not far from my home, is the belief that its mureeds (pupils) were all chosen in some distant event before time began. In that story, all the Saints and Masters of the different tarikats (Sufi schools) were  invited by the Prophet Muhammad (saws) to lay claim upon their (future) mureeds. But from the multitude, some souls were left behind. A Saint and Master  (and in whose name the Sufi order takes after) stepped up, and basically said... "I will take these souls left behind. As none will take them, I shall."

I reckon that my friends who often frequents the zawiya, not only knows this story - rather they actually believe the story. And once you believe such a tale, it no longer remains merely a story. It becomes your own history. And the grace and gratitude, the humility and generosity that such history inspires would benefit your present thoughts, words and action. How fortunate are such people!

So let your own good stories become your history and illuminate your life. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

A FATHER'S MEMOIR - the shy doctor

A Memoir. My father is writing his memoir. After the unexpected passing of my brother, Abang Chik (a.k.a. Poone) last September, my dad turned rather quiet and sober. And this is for someone naturally quiet and sober. Talking about this with Mr. Ikhlas, my old friend suggested that this would be a good time for my dad to finally complete his memoir in time for his 80th birthday this coming March 2014. At the very least it would be a project to distract him from the painful memory of having buried his second son. So I mentioned this to my father, and since then there is no stopping him. He is now giving the finishing touches to his latest draft which he typed with an old manual Olympia typewriter. He is also sorting out some grand old pictures to be part of the memoir. 

A Typist. His draft needs to be keyed into the computer for editing, and originally I planned to get a typist to do it. But after glancing briefly, there is much I discovered in his recollections that I didn't know about his life... and I am keen to find out more. So I have volunteered my typing skills. Though it must have pleased him, since then my father has been strangely reluctant to part with his manuscript for me to type. Every other day, I keep nagging him for it, and each time he said it is not ready yet.

Is the doctor shy? I think he is just contented to have something cerebral to fill his days.

A Fathers' Poem. Some years back, I wrote something for my dad on Fathers' Day. It is a little late in the day to share it with you, but here it is...

5. Now That I am a Father

Now that I am a father,

Worrying becomes second nature,

As I look at my son and wonder,

How will he fare when

I am here no longer?

Now that I am a father,

I can share my father’s joy and sorrow

And his firmness that grated people so,

By taking the high road,

When easier seemed the low.

Now that I myself am a father,

I think, finally…

I know mine a little better.

And on this day,

Which celebrates fathers everywhere,

I have my own to share with you,

Abdul Khalid, my dad,

From the tips of his toes

To the ends of his white hair!

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

Have a lovely day, sunshine. Don't forget to tell your father and mother that you love them so. No matter that your love for them will never equal their love and sacrifice... and I think we certainly don't need a parent's memoir to realise this God-beautiful truth.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE EGO & THE ENVIRONMENT - Islam and our accountability for Earth and all its inhabitants

Borrowed Blessings

We are living on borrowed blessings,

Upon the thousands of years past

When somewhere far in time,

An ancestor of ours said,

"No... let's not do that.

Let us do the right thing"

When a forefather with tears in his eyes,

Raised his hands to the darkening skies,

And said, "Oh Lord... Please keep safe

My children and my children's children,

For what I could have done for them I have,

And now I leave them in Your hands."

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

The Ego & The Environment. Oh my beloved friends, I am a little worried. For I fear the day when we shall account for all our deeds done to our environment, all our actions and omissions. For all the times we could have acted to do the right thing but did not. My lazy ego often tells me... 'Naaw... you don't need to think too much about the environment and sustainable development and consumption... that is the problem for the politicians, the experts, the university professors, the... (ad infinitum)." According to our lazy ego, it is everyone else's problem but ours.

But Marshall Mcluhan, a Canadian philosopher in a statement referencing the Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth (1967), clarifies most succinctly, 

"There are no passengers on Spaceship Earth. We are all crew."

Crew and Viceregents. So there is indeed no escaping our responsibility for this beautiful Earth, which is not ours, but in truth, God's grant to humanity. But the Angels of God, in their wisdom and foresight raised the query of our fitness to crew the Spaceship Earth, or in the words of the Holy Quran, to be the Khalifah (viceregents of God) upon this Earth...

Behold, thy Lord said to the angels: "I will create a vicegerent on earth." 

They said: "Wilt Thou place therein one who will make mischief therein 

and shed blood?- whilst we do celebrate Thy praises and glorify Thy holy (name)?" 

He said: "I know what ye know not."

(Quran 2:30, Yusuf Ali)

We are full of mischief, the Angels alleged. And as history unveils itself through time, indeed, we brought a lot of mischief and oppression to the Earth. But closely parallel to the evil, is the goodness inherent in Man, made manifest and clear by the Prophets and Saints of God, authorised by God to advise, admonish and encourage Man towards good and to reject all evil and all falsehood. 

So we are the Khalifahs (viceregents) on Earth. So what is new? But today is different from any other day in the past, you see. For our economy, our industries and apparent insatiable appetite for consumption has led to a point when Man can actually physically and permanently do harm to the Earth.

Back to the Basics. The way forward for us as a community, is the same way as revealed by the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) in verse 2:30 above, that is to find the answer from and through God Almighty. After all, did He not say unto the Angels, 

"I know what ye know not."

We are asking continuing support and guidance from the Flag of Guidance, Sayyidina Alamul Huda Muhammad (s.a.w.s), lest we be branded by our children as the generation that took a paradise from Allah the Most Compassionate, and passed on to them a dying planet.

May Allah the Ever Generous save us from our most selfish and wicked desires!

Pray for humanity, sunshine. And pray for Spaceship Earth.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE DOOR OF SADNESS & THE GATE OF KNOWLEDGE - the priceless inheritance of Muslims (may they remember to ask!)

Gone Before Dawn

What is worth dying for

Is worth living for,

What is worth living for

Is always worth loving,

So love thy mother and thy father,

Love thy brother and thy sister,

Love the wise and the foolish,

The saints, the saintly and the sinners,

Love the music of children laughing,

Love the songs that the birds sing,

Love the peace that you enjoy,

Love the things you loved 

When you were just a little boy,

Love the silence before dusk,

Love the chorus before dawn,

Swear your love to them all,

For one day, who knows?

They may all be gone...

They may all be gone...

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

Bukit Kiara Cemetery, with Mr.Cemetery himself, Mikhail.

BEREAVEMENT. To those you have known before they are no more, to those you have known and yet have never met in this world, to the beautiful memories you have shared and for the memories yet to be made, what do we have to offer but our oath of fealty, our solemn promises of love?

DOOR OF SADNESS. As frail human beings, with mortal vessels that contain our ancient spirit, we are accorded some room for grief. A chamber to house our sorrow and lament the passing of our beloved kindred. To sigh when we inadvertently glanced at a picture of our mothers, fathers, family and friends who have all passed on. But this Door of Sadness, this gate through which our tears flow is also the gate of our heart, the abode of our Most Compassionate God who says that "Though Creation cannot contain Me, the heart of a true believer can."

At the Royal Mausoleum, Bukit Chandan, Kuala Kangsar.

GATE OF KNOWLEDGE. Thus the Door of Sadness is also the Gate of Knowledge, through which we are connected to our Grandshaykhs, the Masters of the Path (Tariqa). Above the laments of our own mortality, is the chorus of the Saints, the Friends of God, who, to this day attend to the matters of this world under the power of the Master of Creation, Muhammad Habibullah (s.a.w.s.) and His Companions. And amongst whom, Saydina Ali ibn Abu Talib is indeed known as the Gate of Knowledge, the entrance to the City of Knowledge that is the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.).

THE DIVINE COCKTAIL. It is thus the priceless inheritance of the Muslims, blessed and fortunate as they are (may they remember!), that contemplation and remembrance of our dearly departed, inevitably intermingles with Allah (s.w.t.), His Beloved Muhammad (s.a.w.s) and all His Companions(r.a.) and Saints (q.s.). Thus we find...

The Intermingling

In our remembrance of the dearly departed,

Our mortality intermingles with immortality,

Our sorrow intermingles with great joy,

Our uncertainty intermingles with assurance,

Our love intermingles  with the Greatest Love of All,

That is the Love of Allah for His Muhammad...

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

He shouldn't be whirling so close to the water's edge. But kids... they will have their fun.
By the riverside maqam of Tok Temong, Kuala Kangsar.

So if you are in mourning for someone, even if it is for yourself, have great hope, my friend. For you are assured of love, mercy and compassion of a Lord matchless in His vows of love, mercy and compassion for you and the reasons for your sorrow.

Alhamdulillah.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

MALAYSIA ELECTION 2013 - don't be a fence-sitter... DOWN with the fence!

Dear old Mikhail, borrowing an umbrella, after a
Cukur Jambul ceremony for my partner Alex's youngest
newborn son, Siddi. Like myself, he is apolitical and does not
subscribe to any political ideologies (or umbrellas). 

Election Fever. Last Thursday a friend asked me, "So which party do you support? Or are you a fence-sitter?" He is asking me this question because of two reasons - Firstly, he knows of my discontent about our country's present political system of representative democracy, a template which was handed down to us when we obtained independence in 1957. And secondly, it is because this coming Sunday the whole of Malaysia shall be queuing at the polling stations to vote in this country's 13th General Election. With 579 candidates vying for 222 parliamentary seats and 1,321 chasing 505 state seats, and an expected high voter turn-out rate, this is one of the most anticipated election in our recent history.

Cukur Jambul involves a ceremonial cutting of
the newborn's first lock of hair, preceded with
prayers for Sidi and his deceased relatives. While
the guests cut Sidi's hair (little bits only), his proud
grandmother along with her nasyid group sang
the Marhaban, songs welcoming and praising
Muhammad (s.a.w.s.) Later there is food for all.

Fence-destroyer. I remember being stumped to answer. Which party do I support? And if I support none, am I a fence sitter? But then again, why need there be only two possible answers? There is perhaps a third possible reply, and it was the one I chose. I said, "Bro... I support no party, but I am no fence-sitter. In fact it is my fervent hope to destroy that damn fence."

Anarchist me? He he he. My reply makes me sound like an Anarchist. But I don't think I am, because Anarchists are often secular and all about destroying the old system, old ways and prejudices, to bring in the new. My like-minded friends are the opposite of Anarchists, for they are concerned with addressing modern problems brought about by 'new things' such as democracy, the usurious fiat (paper) money and global banking system. We are also much worried about the over-weening power of global corporations, the plague (yes, plague) of bio-tech revolution which is affecting the precious bio-diversity and fine balance of our natural environment. All this is new, a 21st century problem. But the solutions we seek are ancient solutions, in the living pages of the Holy Quran, and in the living story of the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s.), as guided by our Masters. We always have this qualifier in our statements because, to be honest here, we are not the brightest people around, nor the most virtuous. We need our saints to hold our hand.

And what is the cure? 

Almost ten years ago I recorded a prose about the Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s) and about walls and roads. The first part of the prose, which is the one that concerns us, goes like this...

The Roadbuilder

I build roads,

Not walls.

For my message

Is peace,

Not war...

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

Poor Siddi yawning. It's his sleep time now (daytime). He spends his nights keeping
his parents awake. Ergo, I often find his dad blinking away half-awake in the office.
On the day of the Cukur Jambul there was good merriment and gratitude.
Politics were forgotten, and the true important things in life celebrated -
Our family, our friends, in the Grace of God Almighty
and Muhammad Habibullah (s.a.w.s.)

The Message of Adab. The sublime Prophetic message of Muhammad (s.a.w.) touches all mankind. And it is essentially a message of Adab (good manners). For though we may differ in our ideologies and creed, if everyone is willing to treat one another with high Adab, there would be no need for all this fear-mongering, bickering, backstabbing, betrayal and slandering - the common weapons of choice in this election thus far. Often now we find in both the mainstream media and the new social media public comments and postings which are either insulting, or at best condescending and sanctimonious. Sometimes, I would like to ask them, "Who died and made you right?"

The Fence. So however attracted you are to any party's slogan or promises, don't build your fences too high until you find it so difficult to understand the other side's point of view. Are we not all human and do we not all err and in perpetual in need of God's forgiveness? Who is to say we are right or wrong? Or whether we are on the right side or the wrong side of an argument?

Tall Fences

Come to your senses,

My would-be martyrs!

And rely not on man-made borders

That keep outsiders outside!

For today you may be within,

Come tomorrow you may be without...

Then we shall see how well you fare

Clambering up your proud fences

Built tall and fair

With your incessant and foul pretenses...

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

Wahhabism. We are also concerned with the persistent influence of Wahhabism in Malaysia, that strange extremist off-shoot of Islam, propagated with the sword and oil-money from the Middle-east. And the worrying trend of the two dominant 'Islamic' parties (PAS and UMNO) in Malaysia flirtation with the Wahhabi-centric political clerics and celebrity ustaz (religious teachers). Wahhabis are expert fence builders, and have a nasty habit of declaring people who disagree with them as apostates. Anyone who flirts with such people are flirting with spiritual poison.

I used to vote back in the days when candidates and their supporters, of whatever race, creed or political affiliation used to have decent manners. This year I shall not vote and continue to prop up these political fences that divide the people of Malaysia. Why should I when every election cycle seems to bring out the worst in many people? If my fellow Malaysians vote this coming Sunday, I wish them well, and hope that however you may mark the ballot paper, it does not colour your perception of the Oneness of God and the Mercy of His Prophet.

Madad (support us) ya Saydeena Muhammad (s.a.w.s.). Lead us back to our traditional good adab as exemplified by you, best of creation and God's own appointed Mercy to all the Worlds, for the sake of all humanity. The ringing song of Marhaban... marhaban... marhaban lingers in my heart still.

No party colours here. Just thirsty seekers looking for the Nur  (Light).

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THINK WELL OF YOURSELF - If you don't, who will? Hu will!

Thinking Well

Think well of yourself,

That you will be good and do good,

That your efforts in charity and piety

Is motivated by the best of reasons

And with the deepest of sincerity.

Think well of yourself,

Whatever villainy you did yesterday,

However lost you became yesterday...

For yesterday is yesterday,

Today is today

And tomorrow is tomorrow...

For verily, Allah and His Rasul

Always thinks well of you.

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

A True Story. Joseph (my friend) was tending sheep and goats under the care of his master. One late night, Joseph was caught by the night watchmen of the city in possession of contraband (Hashish). Early morning at 1.00 am the master arrived at the city hall to post bail and got Joseph out. The master said not one word in anger or condemnation through the quiet drive home.

After a restless night of guilty contemplation, Joseph woke up and the day's chore of tending to the animals began as any other ordinary day. He met the master at the goat house and they started to clear and clean the feed trough. Finally, unable to bear his emotions, Joseph blurted out, "You know, I am really sorry about what happen last night!"

The master paused in mid-scoop, straightened his back and turned to Joseph. Then he said, "There is nothing to be sorry about. Today is a new day, yesterday was yesterday and tomorrow will be tomorrow. Let us leave what happened yesterday to yesterday." He then smiled and returned to his labour.

I wonder how people get away from judging other people, especially when circumstances makes it so natural for us to judge! But I guess that is difference between me and Joseph's master. It is not natural to him because he has not permitted his ego to be his natural state.

God bless him. God bless Joseph. And God bless you, sunshine. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Speak Plainly, and Tell Me - The Prince Part 25

Where is the Prince?

Plainly, sir... for I am no wise seeker,

Tell me, is he alive and if so, where is he?

And if he has passed away, then tell me where is he?

Plainly, sir... for I am no learned teacher,

Tell me, has he taught you anything and if so, what did he teach you?

Plainly, sir... for I am no dervish,

Tell me, did he show you the path of love, and if so, 

Where did it lead you to?

Plainly, sir, and quickly too... for I am not young anymore,

Where is the Prince, the Sultan of Hearts?

For I am tired of the Kings and Queens,

The Aces, the Jacks and the Jokers,

Weary of the cards dealt

To misguide us sinners...

Give me the truth,

Let me share a little of the warmth

In the bonfire of love that I see

You stoke for the Prince

Within you...

Tell me about the Prince

and bring me to him,

and leave me not

to my ego's whim.

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

al-fatiha

If almarhum Shaykh Raja Ashman Shah ibni Sultan Azlan Shah (Ku Ash) was still alive (as we understand life and death to be) today, his family, friends and groupies would be celebrating his 54th birthday. Alas, he has released his material body and what is left for us wandering beggars is his memories.

But the memories of kindly, excellent spirits as the one that is possessed by Shaykh Raja is not the sort of passive memories. I think it is very much alive. As alive as his mureeds (students) choose to make his exemplary conduct a way of their lives, and as alive as is affected by determinants other than the mere choices of mortals.

I am not plain speaking. So thank God (s.w.t.) and the Prophet (s.a.w.s) for the likes of Shaykh Raja Ashman Sultanul Qulub whose simplicity of life and love hides an unknown depth of knowledge and experiences. While remaining sincere, shy and humble.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

THE PAST IS THE CONDITION OF THE FUTURE - so how will we chart our destiny if we do not know how we got here?

"We are not famous as soldiers or warriors. Only as journeymen on a journey.
It is not the dagger that we brandish, only our faith, our ordinary
way of life, the shovel and our sweat that made
this land of the Malays blossom."

Why a contract is thick. Without breaking a sweat, 2012 is flying speedily into the past with only three days left for us to complete whatever fate has planned for us this year. Today, I have a few contracts to review, some opinions to draft and some letters to send. I guess I will also be starting on a due diligence on a bank loan. It doesn't sound very interesting, but it is actually. For behind every contract, every loan and court case are human beings and their passions and ambitions. The Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.s) said that whatever agreement you may have, write them down. For we sometimes forget our promises, and the nuanced considerations and 'what ifs' that make up a human transaction. All that 'what ifs' and human nuances... those are the bits that make a legal contract thick. 

A family project. I met my friend Mr. Ikhlas, yesterday morning. And later we were joined by another friend, Abu Hussin. At the end of our extended conversation, Mr. Ikhlas agreed that we should head over to the Historical Society to find out whatever I can about my family's past and ancestors. A couple of my uncles started the project, but alas, they passed away before they could complete it. I think it is time the project is continued.

After all, how will we ever chart our future if we do not know how we got here in the first place?

Have a lovely Friday, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way  

Just Like Old Times - of friendship, chance meeting and the shedding of bitterness

My Old Friend

I met him, 

I saw him last night,

And we exchange pleasantries,

I saw him last night,

And I thought him beautiful

As the first time we met,

All my bitterness,

All my sadness,

All my sorrow fell away

Like leaves on a beautiful autumn day,

We spoke for a while only,

But it was enough for me,

He was my friend, you see.

And the funny thing was last night... 

My heart unconditionally confirmed, 

"You fool, Taufiq. He still is!"

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

I was outside the banquet hall at a wedding. It was there that I chance into my old friend, just minding his cigarette under a bleak evening rain. He was also invited to the wedding because he is a cousin to the bride.

I anticipated this meeting, but not the outcome. For you see, he had some harsh words that he once wrote me, and I was hurt. And for the longest time, I kept my sadness and, I must admit it here, my bitterness. Like a troll sulking in the cave, I nursed my pain and bitterness like a burning itch. But after a while, even this troll grew tired of being separated from his friend. Yet even then, I did not look for my friend, and indeed, in a couple of occasions when I saw him in a social function, I slipped away. Still a troll, I guess.

So it was a relief for me, that when I bumped into him last night, with no chance of evading an encounter, my heart delighted in seeing his smiling face, shedding in an instance, two years of hurt, regret and sorrow. I was happy because I did not even have to think about it, I was simply glad to finally talk to him. And being reminded once again in his kind words and thoughtful remarks, why he is my friend.

It was just like old times. I count this as a win for the Prophet, and glory unto God, Friend of the Friends, and Best Fixer-Upper of Petty Squabbles. 

Amongst Friends... and Shaykh Raja. Sometime in 2006, I reckon.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

I am not Lost. I am in Love.

1.      I am not lost

God bless you and your family,

For God loves he who keeps faith

With those who appear lost.

But I am not lost, you see.

I am in love.

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

The scenario of falling in love is sometimes closely connected with some lost or other. Lost of your reason... that's a pretty frequent story. Lost of your property... that is also a common malady of love. Lost of your senses... oh boy, can I write a novel about that. Lost of your kingdom... Lost of your freedom... Lost of your free time.. lost of perhaps many things which you once cherished and held dear.

A friend of mine who was recently married is a good example of this pandemic of lost. For I am seeing him becoming somehow different, coping with married life and the accessories of changes that comes with the 'I do'. We sometimes meet, and he regal me with his domestic arrangement and the fixings and repairs required in moving into a new house. But most of all, he talks a lot about his wife, fascinated by the behaviour and personality of his own Frau of the Haus. Like a jigsaw he has long puzzled over, everything in his life is finally fitting in now, just nicely. 

So I guess it is good to lose something sometimes. Because my friend, in his 42nd year, has gone and lost his heart to a girl, and with it his solitude and loneliness. 

Alhamdulillah.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Junk Mail, Forward Address To The Life Here After - mothers, children and poignant reminders

Yesterday a mail arrived for my mother. It's an invitation from some very keen real estate agents for my mother to purchase properties in London. It is very kind of them but alas, the junk mail is ten years too late, for my dear mum passed away in May 2002. 

I just shared this on Instagram, and an old friend advised me to unsubscribe from the sales mailing list. But of course, that mailing list is floating and being circulated with God-knows-who-else and I think to attempt to stop further junk mails to my late mother would be like trying to plug a rainy sky with a cork.

Saying that however, I don't mind reading my mother's name anywhere I may find it, or as in this case, anywhere it may find me. Above the epithet of her gravestone, in the wisdom of my aunties, playing upon the smile of my son or simply printed on a junkmail postcard... it is still a reminder of her.

Have a lovely thoughtful day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Debts of Love we all owe - unwinding the past, extending the present, revealing the future

Our Elders: Oh Where Shall I Hide My Shame?

O' my Beloved God,

In the name of Your Most Beloved,

Muhammad Habibullah, Most Glorious Rose

In the Garden of Your Creation,

Most Perfect Light created before

The Pen and the Tablet,

I am asking Thee, for Thou

Have commanded that we

Ask Thee and no one else...

That if Thou have granted us

The foresight of knowledge and responsibility

Then for us, make it easy,

And extend a second beyond one second,

One hour beyond one hour, turn the day

Into a year of beautiful memories,

A year into an epoch of good deeds,

That we might give unto those whom

We owe much debt of gratitude and love

What they deserve, and that we are not

Questioned on the day when all deeds

Are accounted for - "O' Taufiq, when your

Elders become weak and enfeebled, when their

Limbs refuse to work as they used to,

When their mind is quiet and introspective,

When they are looking for your time and attention,

Did you give unto them their right?

Did you give unto them love and care?"

Oh, Lord... I fear Thy questioning of me.

Oh where shall I hide my shame...

Dear God, oh where...?

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

My father (78) and my auntie (84) is living with me. And I have just realised that for the longest time they have nurtured secret hopes. A very human and reasonable want to go out, to have dinners at a restaurant, to go shopping, to travel and visit places they used to frequent in their younger days, to visit their friends and relatives, to have some favourite dish that they long missed. But they never tell me, you see. It is not my fault, is it?

Bapak (my dad)

This is me, bustling about like a mad man, running from work to work, writing for blogs, working hard for my customers, rushing in and out of my house, trying to earn a crust of bread and an amphora of honey, while all the while, my aunt and my father observes me with a contemplative and sad gaze. 

Mak Ndak (my aunt)

When I was growing up, they need not be told by me what I want or need. Regularly they have showered me with love, care, attention and presents, though I have done nothing to deserve their blessings, save for the simple effort of being born, and that too I really had not much work to do. I simply popped out of my mother's tummy. When I was growing up, my parents and elders have already the foresight to consider and plan for my future, years and years ahead of time. And now, here I am, not even able to consider five minutes into the future as to my father and auntie's wants and hopes.

Ah. That wise (and damning) words still rings true - A single father or mother can care and raise two, three or ten children. But sometimes, not even ten children can care for one elderly father or mother.

I often like to hide my foibles and weakness behind the station of a sinner. But truth be told, sunshine, this is worse than being a sinner.

I hope to change. I want to change. I don't want to meet God feeling all shitty this way. I want to make my elders happy. I reckon my mother, may God bless her soul, would have agreed.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Flame of Umar and the Favoured Stars in the Muhammadan Sky - Islam, oral traditions and the miracles of the Holy Quran

1. The Flame of Umar
Someone left the door ajar, you see,
So I wandered in.

There, in my Master’s heart,
I found my Prophet,
Radiant like a sea of happiness,
The Prophet then smiled and
Beckoned me to enter his heart.
Unthinking, I slipped in,
And there I found myself
In the Divine Presence
Of God Himself,
The Utterly Compelling,
The Absolutely Knowing.

God greeted me with great joy,
Then He took me by the hand
And led me to a window
In the Prophet’s heart.
“Look out of the window”,
He told me, and there,
To my surprise, I found myself
Gazing out of my own eyes!

And wherever my gaze turned,
The shadowy forms of this apparent world
Is expelled, and truth of its real nature revealed,
Illuminated by the intense radiance of prophetic light
Which is shining out of my eyes
Like a full moon in the night sky.
Setting this illusory world alight,
As a welcoming light to the guided,
A warning to the unwary,
And a Flame of Umar
To the one-eyed Enemy!
..................

Umar on TV. A friend recently shared with me a tele-series about Umar al-Khattab, Companion of the Prophet(pbuh), and Third Rightfully Guided Caliph of Islam. It is an interesting series, disclosing some traditions about Umar that I was unaware of.

The Miracle of the Holy Quran. But to be absolutely honest with you, nothing beats a direct narrative from a Sufi Master. For although Muslim tales and practices may be put into writing and even turned into a film or television show, nothing comes close to watching and listening to a Sufi Master in action as he shares his stories and practices of the Prophet(pbuh), His companions and the Saints. For Islam is essentially founded on oral traditions and direct transmission from one heart to another. The glorious holy Quran is not glorious because it is just a book. It is glorious because it is a continuing miracle -a living breathing mirror of creation and contains therein the past, present and future record of nations and peoples.

'Muhammad' in Arabic script. It may not look like it,
but the name 'Muhammad' and the owner of the name himself
is the key to understanding the Holy Quran. Any other path offered
is an illusory road, for in Islam Muhammad is necessarily
both the Messenger and the Message.

The key to the Quran, Muhammad Prophet of God(pbuh). The key to unlocking the secrets of the holy Quran is in the heart of all Man. And in that context, it is the Sufi Masters that are the adept inheritors of the Prophet Muhammad, the merciful Mover and Shaper of the human heart.

Having said all these, I am still enamoured with the TV series. But it was a long wait until Episode 8, when Umar, on his hot headed way to kill Muhammad, the divider of the Bani Quraish, trouble-maker and wizard, was turned away from his path to instead visit his wrath upon his own sister, Fatimah and her husband for having left their old religion to join Muhammad in his heresy. From then on... it is living history, to you and me now at this very moment. Ah... Umar and the impeachable Companions of the Prophet(pbuh), favoured stars in the Muhammadan Sky! You can click on the first episode below...

Have a lovely day, sunshine. wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way