The Spiritual Hobo and The Spiritual Bourgeois - How to write Songs and Prose

A songwriter is driven by his feelings. I know of one famous songwriter with a large portfolio of beautiful songs before his conversion to Islam. The songs were sincere, melancholy and yearning, with a certain edginess in his music which attracted me.

After he converted to Islam, well... the songs are still rather good. But I could sense the feeling of contentment and satisfaction in the music - A 'I-am-home-already' sorta sentiment which permeates through the music and lyrics. And that is good for him personally, but for me it has lost that 'I-am-lost-I-need-to-find-my-way-back' drama and tension which rippled to the surface of his older songs.

I was talking to my brother about it, and I (cruelly, I think) commented that this musical phase as being the songwriter's 'spiritual bourgeois' phase - That middle-class suburban reality of self-satisfaction you achieve when you think that you have "made it". There is not much edginess or grit in this sort of music. The 'Blues' mood of separation, solitude, rejection, yearning and desire just fell away from the songs.

I hope that at a metaphorical level, we shall always be like hobos riding on a freight train of God. Not knowing where we might end up, living life a day at a time, a loaf of bread and an apple a day, utterly in the Mercy of the Lord who made us all. Because frankly, there is really no other way to write beautiful prose or songs.

The Love is in the searching and yearning. So may our search and yearning never end.

Have a lovely day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

I WILL KEEP YOUR SECRET AND YOU WILL KEEP MINE - a little story about merciful secrets

In a book I once read, the title of which now evades my memory, is a short little Sufi tale. The tale really just revolves around a subtle dialogue between God and a Saint. And like all delicate things, it is open to be misconstrued and misunderstood. But this warning can be given to almost any book, so we shall proceed nonetheless. I am doing this because I think it is a beautiful reflection of the intimacy between God and His Creation. Alright, here it is...

The Story

In the story, the Voice of God was heard by a Saint. God said, "Shall I disclose to the people about you and the secret thoughts and feelings emanating within your heart? Shall I tell them of your hidden sentiments, far-flung as it is from the ordinary and outer form of your faith, so scandalous that the people will catch you and stone you?"

The Saint did not ponder long before he replied, "O' Lord! Shall I tell the people of Your infinite Mercy, so that they will never again bow and prostrate before You in prayers?"

To which God answered, "Alright then. I shall keep your secret and you will keep Mine."

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

Rest your eyes, for you look tired. Rest your soul, for you are weary of looking. Sit by this story and take what goodness and secrets there are for you to take here. God bless and may you have a perfectly wonderful day, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Knot of Love vs. the Scissors of Hubris & Hate - Divine Parables in our Children

1. Belaian Manja Tuhan
(God's Sweet Affection)

Between your child and you,

Are parables to be learnt

About you and God.

And in the intimacy

And affection which

You have with your child,

As God has with you,

So if you shower your child

With life, love and gifts,

Has not God been so to you?

And when God is near

And He wishes to bestow

His attention, His love

And His affection on you,

Do you not hear Him?

Can you not see Him?

Has all these occurred

While you are being unaware,

Awake but in truth asleep?

How sad and lonely for you!

Of course I do not actually 'hear' or 'see' God. But if I cannot hear God, I still hear His voice in the gratitude expressed by someone. In the husky 'I love you' sighed by a lover. In the patient teaching of a tutor, "This is how you do it, boy..." In the comforting words of a friend when my mother passed away, "She was a lovely woman. She is at a place of loveliness now..."

Houston, we have lift-off.

And if I cannot see God, I still see His beauty in the cheeky grin of my son. In the smiles of my brothers. In the daily grind of my friends all hard at work. In the petals of a white rose. In the sky and in the gentle stream of a hilly retreat. In the rising of the sun and its setting behind clouds of golden hue.

But there is perhaps no parable more Godly than in the relationship between parents and their children. Have you not gazed upon your son or daughter and feel this powerful and intangible surge of love, that seems to come from nowhere? After all, Baby is not doing anything fascinating or terribly news worthy. Baby is just lying there in her cot, dribbling over her pacifier. But oh boy... isn't she quite something? Just look at the twinkle in her eye and that mischievous smile! You know the feeling. And if this episode is repeated again and again, multiplied by the seven billion souls that inhabit this planet, then really, how can it be that we are strangers? How are you different from me? How are your father and mother different from my parents? On the surface, our colour may be not be the same and the prayers we recite different, but Parables of Divine Love is the knot of love that binds all of us together. It is the scissors of hubris and hate that is forever seeking to cut our ties to one another.

So many of our brethren are asleep to this simple fact. I know you are not asleep, sunshine. I know you are awake to this Truth.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

The Perfume of the Angel of Death and a Night of Dread- Umrah Pilgrimage Part 26

However I tried Photoshop-ing this picture, I still look fat.
Then a disembodied voice whispered, "Try going on diet."

This is a continuation of my report on my Umrah Pilgrimage which took me to Jerusalem, Medina and Mecca in end March to early April this year. My last posting was about food on 22nd July 2011 entitled Dead Camel and Dhab Lizard, Guava and Zam-Zam - Umrah Pilgrimage Part 25 (Click Here). The journal continues on Wednesday, 30th March 2011.

PERFUME OF DEATH. There are a couple of things which is mandatory to be purchased in Mecca, and one of them is perfume. It can be very, very cheap or extremely expensive. I was at one particular stall when I saw a man sniffing away, and pleasurably commented, "Hmm, very nice, Haji..." To which the proprietor said, "Yaa... masyaAllah, this is scent is called the Malaikat Subuh (Angel of Dawn)!" The man then asked, "Good, good... but do you have perfume of the Malaikatulmaut (Angel of Death)?" The old shopkeeper looked offended and did not reply, although in his face I could see his thoughts... "Crazy, crazy Malaysians."

Journal extract

Talking about crazy Malaysians... During one of the many times we chilled in Mecca, a friend confided in me his night of dread - My friend is a particular man with a particular taste for the night life. One night in Indonesia he was out partying when one of the girls overdosed on some heavy 'shit'. They hurried her to the hospital and fortunately she was saved. But while waiting outside and smoking, he felt an overwhelming sense of shame and confusion, wondering who he is actually, why is he here and what is his purpose, and oh boy, what if the girl actually dies? Musing sullenly about his present circumstances, a cat walked by and he found himself asking, "Oh my God! Will this be the last cat I shall ever see in my life?!" He hurried off to find a mosque and found a small one nearby, but it was closed. He climbed over the fence anyway, completed his ablutions (wuduq - physical and spiritual cleansing with water pre-prayers) and started praying, all the time asking God to allow him to complete the prayers, beseeching God not to take away his life before he can complete each recitation, gesture and movement in his prayers. Now in hindsight, I think he was a little OD-ed himself.

I don't think you need to do serious drugs to OD. People can overdose and lose themselves in anything. It is wise to take everything in moderation. Perhaps even in what people consider to be the pursuit for spiritual excellence. After all... 'excellence' and 'spiritual' by whose definition? Find a spiritual master, become a pupil (a good one, not like me!) and you will not have to travel your path alone. You need not face the Enemy alone...

136. The Enemy

Wine for the mind,

Ghouls and wraiths,

Honey for money,

Face and faith,

Whatever your passion,

He has your poison.

May you have a moderately satisfying day, sunshine.

The Eagles of the Kaaba.

Pax Taufiqa.