The Wedding of Fifi & Khaled - all's well that ends well!

Alhamdulillah, at about 6.15pm yesterday Khaled and Fifi consecrated their marriage vows in a simple Aqad ceremony at the bride's house. Despite the prayers of all involved, the mild afternoon rain turned into a right earnest downpour in the evening. "It is Fifi's tears, bro...," commented Kamarul, "...because she will lose her single status today in the sight of God Almighty, the Prophet Muhammad(pbuh) and Facebook."

As promised, these are some pictures we were able to take last night.

It is about 5.45pm, the hosts are ready, the cameraman is waiting patiently next
to the row of Hantaran (presents from the bride to be exchanged with the groom's
gifts), the youngish Tok Kadi (the religious dude to officiate the Aqad) is here
and in front of him is the two cushions for him to sit facing the groom (when
he arrives, that is)

Finally, Khaled's family arrived suitably wet from the downpour, with his aunties
and female cousins bearing his gifts on traditional dulangs (bronze trays),
consisting of non-traditional presents like an Apple iPad and a Nikon DSLR.

And then... like a dying camel arriving at an Oasis of Love, the groom, attired in his family's
traditional Arabic robes, arrives with a glitter in his eyes and a nervous smile.

"Dig for oil, here!" says the Shaykh.
(Hehehe. Khaled was actually asking where he was suppose to sit)

And a few minutes later, out comes the blushing Fifi from the bridal room carrying
a pretty bouquet of flowers. She will be sitting close by to witness the Aqad ceremony.

The father comes over with some official forms from the Tok Kadi to be signed
by the bride. With a brisk signature Fifi signs off her consent to marriage
and other assorted statutory declarations.

With a single recitation, Khaled completes the Aqad successfully. Sorry, no pictures
as I was behind him and concentrating real hard to listen to his recitation
of the contractual offer and acceptance of his marriage to Fifi. 

At the end, as in all weddings, happy smiles and poses all around.

It was still raining as we left later. There is Kamarul, Heche and Efa waiting for me
in the downpour. I stopped for a while to take this picture and let them get
a little bit more wet, just so I can post this pic on the blog.
I am a dedicated blogger, I am.

Such is life... Boy meets girl. Girl drives boy crazy. They get married.

Have a lovely sabbath, sunshine. We have the official reception to go to this afternoon, then the long drive back to Kuala Lumpur. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Love is Trouble... but it is a Beautiful Trouble - love and marriage in Perlis part 2

Love is like the rumbling thunder in the overcast skies of your heart.
"Uh Oh... sounds like trouble." your heart confides. And yes, it is
trouble, but it is a beautiful trouble.

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

1. While sipping coffee
While sipping coffee,
I was distracted by 
The veil of angels
That man call rainfall.

The curtain fall of
A billion angels
Plummeting earthbound,
As they cry out,
“Mercy is coming down!
Mercy is coming down!”

A few noticed me,
And they smiled
As they greeted me,
“Hi, Taufiq! Hi, Taufiq!
Do not listen to the whispering one!”
.............

Update - The Wedding Prep in Perlis. The above prose was recorded in early 2009. I am pretty sure I was sitting somewhere and it was raining, as it is right now here in Kangar, Perlis. Heche and Efa is at the bride's house, no doubt keeping the lovely girl's emotion steady and calm amidst the hustle and bustle of the wedding prep. Fifi is the eldest daughter, you see, and this wedding is the very first for her family. Nervous hearts all around. And now it is RAINING! Oh no... what will happen to the just-raised canopies and tents? But the rain is not too heavy (which by Malaysian standards means that it is not in the risk of uprooting 120 years old tropical trees), so we are hoping for the best.

As you have read in the earlier post this morning (and if you haven't, why haven't you?? Click Here), the marriage is of Fifi (Malay-Malay) with Syed Khaled (Arab Malay), and things are just getting interesting. I am here also with Kamarul, and it has been made clear to us that although we are friends with both bride and groom, that for today and tomorrow, we are with the bride's host and should, under no circumstances, 'act' as if we are with the groom's entourage... He he he. Boy, people sure get competitive at weddings! Not that Khaled will miss us, as he has about 100 strong already here or arriving soon. With the open invitation to the whole kampung (village), family and friends of Fifi, they anticipate more than 300 guests for today's Aqad (Muslim wedding ceremony), and about 700 tomorrow afternoon's official reception.

Love & Marriage. As we are in the topic of rain, love and marriage (which goes together like a horse and carriage, as the song aptly says), here is another prose recorded around the same time in 2009. It was written in the throes of passion for a human being called Heche. We have been to many, many weddings since, a few of my friends' but mostly hers. And as the rain falls more heavily today, I am wondering to myself, "When will our turn come?"

16. Like the rain

Whenever I look at you,

I am blessed by God,

Whenever I sit beside you,

I am blessed by God,

Whenever you smile,

And whenever you frown,

In that and all, I am blessed.

Whatever you say,

Whatever you don’t say,

Whatever you do, and

Whatever you don’t do,

I am blessed by God.

Like the rain,

You simply happened.

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

Good things ought not to be delayed, people say. So I am asking the Angels of the Rain to tender my application to God and His Prophet(pbuh) to hurry things up up there. Pray for us, sunshine.

I think there is a traffic jam of marriages destined to happen up there
in heaven. I hope the Angels will sort out the bottle neck and unclog
the matrimonial congestion. 

And to conclude, this is the ending of the collection of prose entitled 'Just between You and Me', more than 3 long years ago...

wa min Allah at-Taufiq

25th February 2009

There is only God, and naught but God,

And by my skin that hides my soul,

And by the bones that bear my body,

And by the fire of my ego, and the crowning throne

That is the heart to be possessed by my Him,

Muhammad Habibullah al-Mustafa,

Abu Arwah, the most perfect Rose

In the Garden of my Lord’s creation, it is He! It is He

That is the Messenger of God!

All Glory to God!

All Praise!

All Thought!

All Love!

All Life!

All me!

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

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

A Wedding in Perlis - Pictures tell stories

Fifi's parents love gardening I guess. They have an interesting batch of pink and
orange hibiscus around their little patch of village in Kangar. The red version is
the national flower of Malaysia.

The sinner is in the northern state of Perlis Indera Kayangan, the smallest little state in the Federation of Malaysia and the rice basket of the country. I have not been here for 30 years, I reckon, and am glad to know that things have developed decently, although the old ways are, happily, still the same. As we left our spanking new hotel last night, I was shocked to find a rice combine harvester, ploughing through a paddy field which we did not even noticed were right there in front of the hotel.

I am here for a wedding of two dear friends, Fifi and Syed Khaled, expected to take place this late afternoon after Asr prayers at her house just a five minutes drive from here. The marriage is an interesting amalgamation of Fifi who is a thoroughly Malay girl (with some spots of Siamese heritage I suspect), and Khaled who originates from Arabian stock.

I have misplaced my beloved songkok (traditional black-coloured Malay head gear) during the Eidul Fitri celebrations, and am now rushing to the small city (okay... let's call it a town) of Kangar to look for a replacement. So I can't write much right now. Below are some more pictures I managed to take yesterday.

When we arrived, Fifi the blushing bride was frantically asking us,
"Ooh... take me out! Take me out of my house at least for a while,
I cannot stand anymore of this wedding preparation!" So after telling
her father a bald-faced lie, we headed to Fifi's favourite seafood restaurant
at the jetty in Kuala Perlis. You cannot even see the place from the main road,
and would have to walk down this dark lonely path to find it.
Only the locals knows the place, she says. Wow. Exclusive.

Along rickety and loose planked pier we walked (or is it a jetty?), and pass
through the trees and small houses we arrive at the restaurant, hidden from
prying eyes and with a view of the Straits of Melaka. There were many Muslims
eating, but Fifi had once earlier asked the Chinese proprietor whether the food was
halal (permissable for Muslims). He blustered his reply,
"Waa... Agung pun makan sini! (Even the King have eaten here!)" He he he.

We didn't know what to order, but happily Fifi's relatives were having their dinner
at the next table. So we sought their advice and tested their food before ordering
ours. Yes. Fifi, and by proxy all of us, is quite shameless.

After dinner and incessant calls from her mother to come home, we left happy, satisfied and sleepy. Heche however went to do her best-friend-job and stayed with Fifi to help her with the wedding prep until later into the night.

Now it's 10.50am here in Kangar. And they are waiting for me. Gotta go now, sunshine. See ya later!

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

LOVE (for men) IS... - a time to laugh, laugh and love!

I did a lot of research and spoke to a lot of couples for this posting...

Love (for men) is…

Love is… having your own personal psychiatrist 

(you know… where the patient actually thinks she’s the doctor?)

Love is… having your own personal assistant-cum-stalker (you know… where your amour asks you – “You were ‘getting ready’ to leave for work one hour ago. Where were you for that 45 unaccounted minutes? Who were you with??")

Love is… having your own personal trainer and LIFE motivator (you know… when you finally give up the ghost of excuses and finally admit to her, “Well, maybe I like having a gut? Maybe I like wheezing after two steps up the stairs? Maybe I don’t want to conform to Marie Clair’s idea of manly beauty? Maybe I am just lazy? Maybe I don’t want a big house in the suburbs? (I just want to inherit it) Maybe we can be happy without all these inconvenient truths? Maybe this should be a quiet car journey for once?)

Love is… contemplating throttling your amour and being held back only because (1) She is stronger than you (2) You have not practiced your alibi (3) It is just too much hard work. (4) You have watched too many episodes of CSI and don't think you can get away with it. (P.S. This is actually from Chris Rock’s stand up show)

Love is… wondering (silently) how perfectly happy you were when you were in ‘the Friend Zone’ with her, and did not have to deal with her hidden insecurities, dementias, hormonal imbalances and manic obsessions. And wishing that you don't have to lie so many damn times.. "Wow! Your peanut butter cookie is amazing! No, of course I enjoy going shopping with you! Of course there is nothing more interesting for me to do (like watching the paint dry)!"

Love is… looking at her and wondering, “Oh God… what have I done to deserve this….???” 
In both sense of the phrase.

He he he.

But finally, Love is… not having learnt a single thing from our experiences, and to fall hopelessly, despairingly, perfectly in love all over again. We must be stupid, we are.

That is Love (for men)

……………………………

Is this love or is this emotional-stalking... I really don't know. Help!

Heche regularly complaints to me, "It's all about God and the Prophet, then it's about God... then the Prophet... then back again about God. What is the point of going out with a blogger if he doesn't write about ME?"

I try to explain to her that I would lose credibility if I write fawning and let's face it, boring monologues about our 'perfect relationship'. No reader would be interested in that. I bet you would go "Oh yuck. A happy loving couple, oh SO interesting."

So I recorded the prose above about an imperfect relationship. Especially from the point of view of men. Because, coincidentally I am a man. And boy, am I imperfect.

If your mate reads the prose and tells you he feels otherwise, then I am sorry... he is a dirty lying bastard. But it's okay... don't go dumping or breaking up with him. After all, he is still YOUR dirty lying bastard. And nothing can ever take that away from you.

Tis' a lovely Wednesday, sunshine. Time to laugh, laugh, and love!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Life of an Orange - wonderful friends that blessed the journey...

The Orange

1. Orange and Life (or the Contratemps of a life with the Master)

I saw my Master eating oranges,

And the fruit appeared juicy and sweet

As it passed through his lips.

He passed me one,

But when I bit through the pulp

Oh, Lord, how sour was it!

I saw my Master live his life,

And his life appeared happy and sweet

With each passing moment.

God too gave me a life,

But when I lived my life,

Oh Lord, how sour was my portion!

Hehehe.

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

This prose is recorded from a tale recounted by a friend, a Sufi. Oh what a rascal he was when he was studying overseas. His idea of jihad (of course he was kidding, but I thought I better clear all doubt. After all, we don't know who may drop by in this almanac... Some may not be as cool as you, sunshine) was going out with a beautiful girl of Bani Israel, a rich London Jewess princess. Although not rich, he was a bon vivant, the life of any party, and he mixed with the super rich students who customed only the most expensive and exclusive nightclubs in the West End. That my friend could drink like a camel became useful as he and his clique partied into the early hours of the morning. To top of this degenerate (but undoubtedly very interesting!) life, is his talent as a ladies' man. Oh how they simpered and adored this scrawny little fella from Malaysia.

The Grandshaykh

This was of course many (many) decades ago. It was his fate that amongst his friends was a quiet unassuming son of a Sultan, studying law. One day, the prince fell under a spell of a Sufi Grandshaykh, and with great vigour and enthusiasm, dragged my friend into the tiny but growing circle of young Naqshbandis in the Malaysian diaspora in London, and later in Malaysia.

He has since passed away and so has the Prince. I miss our little chats. Because my friend was an excellent storyteller, and still I can recall how I chuckled and laughed at my friend's honest and often XXX rated tales from his disreputable past. In between these salacious but hilarious intermission, he would regularly throw nuggets of Sufi tales and experiences he had being in the close proximity of the Shaykhs and the Grandshaykhs. Always interesting, always entertaining and never dull. How wonderful was he... *sigh*

The Prince
al-fatiha

Sufis never preach to me. They only share, and always with a glint in their eye and a refreshing self-deprecation humour. No false humility here. They are simply lovely... How proud their Grandshaykh must be, and how lucky I am to know some of them. Even if only but a while.

May God bless them... and of course, may God bless you, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Book, The Heart, The Master and The Ego - a little notation in the journey

SM: Where is this Taufiq?
SB: God knows...

The Book, The Heart, The Master and The Ego

Did I leave my Book of Etiquette with you?

It has a purple cover and inscribed

On it are three little words…

Ku Ash Punye (property of Ku Ash)

Did I leave my heart in your care?

It is coloured in many hue

And inscribed are three little words…

Tuhanku dan Nabiku (My God and My Prophet)

Have you seen my patience somewhere here?

I cannot tell you how it looks like

For I have not seen it for myself

Have you seen my Master recently?

He is old with long white and grey beard,

He is now an internet star, but long before

Youtube ever came to being he was

An acolyte of the Stars of the Prophet -

His Companions and Saints

Loyal and true to His Word

Oh… my ego, you ask?

My ego is here with me

Chained to my uneven temper

Sometimes ruling over me

Sometimes ruled by me

We are on a journey,

My ego and me,

Upwards across a mountain face,

To the furnace of the white fire

Where burns all men

And their destructive desires.

Well, that is the choice

I am offering my ego...

The hard road or

The easy way.

And this is my constant transaction,

Day after day after day…

…………………….

In the Dergah, with music, dance, remembrance of God
and praise for the His Prophet. Sometimes the big battle
with the ego involves a lot of singing and dancing,
...kinda overwhelming our state of rebellion
with joyous, translucent
transcendent Love.

Ku Ash.
al fatiha

Our war with the our ego is a constant in our lives. A daily almost continuous conflict between our conscience and our pride, hubris and nafs (base desires). On our side is God Almighty, which should be an advantage. But it is an advantage only if we awake to what God has given humanity - His Messengers and Prophets, His Holy Books, His Saints and the saintly ones.

For us sinners dressed ostensibly as Muslims, our singular path to salvation is through the living, breathing, very-much-in-the-present guidance from the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), Seal of the Prophets and Mercy to all the worlds. We sinners, so unworthy, have no religion. We are borrowing the Way of Muhammad, and his religion of Islam. We are clutching desperately to the robe of love and mercy that cloaks the Light of Muhammad (NurMuhammad), a horizon of divine light that is boundless, God's own Beloved and the Chosen One.

Well, all I can say is that this world is certainly never boring and always interesting, betrayed as we are constantly by our traitorous ego that dwells within us, and constantly conspired against by the rebellious Devil, dwelling outside but always within whispering distance to our ears. Thus, caught between a rock and a hard place, where do we hide? We do not, we look up to the examples and guidance of our elders and those who are given authority over us. We clutch the robe of the nearest Saint flying overhead and beg him... "Take me to the Prophet, take me to God!"

He he he.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. It is an uncommonly cold morning here in the tropics, but I know that above, hidden by an overcast sky is the Sun, shining bright in places where only Angels and Saints can fly.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way