Juz Musin'

Through the Looking Glass

2006-02-08T09:58:00.000+02:00

Bismillahi ar-Rahman ar-Rahim

Islam is a religion of Adab and the Prophet SAW is the embodiment of the Adab of Islam. Likewise, if any Muslim profess to love the Prophet SAW, he or she must necessarily embrace the adab modelled by the Beloved. The non-Muslim world does NOT share our love for the Prophet SAW, it does NOT share our belief in the Oneness of Allah SubHana Wa Ta`ala, it does NOT share our Philosophies and our values and it does NOT share our notion of adab.

When a non-Muslim editor made the conscious decision to publish a set of caricatures as a "socio-political commentary", he made a mistake. Indeed he did. But his mistake was one of stupidity and poor judgement. Over the years, since the time during the life of the Prophet until today, Muhammad ibn 'Abdullah has been the object of hurtful behaviours, words, thoughts and campaigns. Did this tarnish HIM as a Prophet ? It did NOT. Did this in any way make him a lesser man ? It did NOT. Did this cause him to lose his ranking as the world's most influential leader ahead of Jesus and everyone else ? It did NOT. Simply because when Allah SubHana Wa Ta`ala chose a man to be His Prophet, Allah SubHana Wa Ta`ala chose the "best amongst you". He and He alone will Protect His Creations and His Servants. Muhammad Ibn 'Abdullah was and IS the best amongst us. His beauty as a person will prevail regardless of any smear campaign.

When Muslims across the world start to burn buildings in hatred, what did we lose ? When Muslims across the world stormed churches and killed innocent men of cloth, what did we lose ? When Muslims across the world used this incident to incite hatred and violence, what did we lose ? When Muslims called for caricatures of the Holocaust, what did we lose ? When a Muslim makes the decision to shoot a priest in protest of the cartoons, did he do so in the name of the Prophet or did he act according to nafs ?

Our Adab. And when we lose our adab we lose our sense of integrity as a Muslim because a Muslim is nothing if not adab. And we lose a whole lot more. We lose our credibility. Whats worse is on the one hand we preach that Islam is a religion of peace and beauty and we display a "religion" given to blood and hatred. We lose our dignity. We lose the understanding of who the Prophet is and what he stood for.

Yes, we must not allow anyone, Muslims or non-Muslims, feel that they have the right to offend in the name of a philosophical ideology which more than half of the world's population have difficulty in understanding but our efforts must always be carried out with adab. Why do we take to the streets ? Why do we burn buildings ? Why do we kill ? Why cannot we use our minds instead of our nafs ? Why cannot we mount an intellectual and reasonable campaign to educate the non-Muslims of the rightness of our beliefs and the justness of our deep feelings of hurt towards the cartoons and any slight to Islam ? Why are we proving to the world that we are creatures of sensibilities rather than sense ?

I am by no means a pacifist. I have and will mount a campaign against offence but mine will not involve anyone's blood. Because I am afraid. I am afraid of how the Prophet SAW will judge my actions. See, when we carry out something in the name of "protecting and defending" the Prophet SAW we must understand the responsibilities that come with it. On the day of Judgement, I fear more of having cause my beloved Prophet pain than giving a hoot what an ill-informed, malicious, capricious and unimaginative Dane think. Allahu 'alam.

May Allah SubHana Wa Ta`ala forgive me for any wrong word and may He Shower His Utmost Blessings on the Prophet SAW, his family and all the sahabahs, Amin.

Leap of Faith

2005-10-27T10:00:00.000+02:00

Recently, there has been a spate of murders and murder cum suicide reported in the news. Almost 90% of the murders involved passions and passionate rage. A Filipino maid killed her bestfriend over a shared lover, a married supervisor chopped up his lover for wanting to break the relationship, an enraged husband killed his wife for having many lovers and flaunting them, yet another husband killed his wife for having a boyfriend. In almost all the cases, the kids are left wondering...what happened ?

Yes, what happened ? In almost all of these cases, it would seem that the murderers were angry and unaccepting of the fact that their lovers/wives wanted to leave or had another lover. I guess the killers felt "If I can't have her/him, then no one can".

Its sad. All these deaths..they are so unnecessary if we all but realise one thing. We none of us OWN another human being. Love is not for us to possess. Love is for us to foster and nurture. This is a universal concept, applicable even for love amongst families.

Too often we hear of children estranged from parents, too often we hear love lost between siblings. Because we took for granted a tie that binds us biologically. We often assume that just because that "tie" is presumably unbreakable (in the sense that whether we deny it or not, biologically our parents will always be our parents etc), we spend the least amount of time and effort on nurturing it.

These past 2 years, my relationship with my family has been severely tested by a crisis but Alhamdulillah, we pulled through. And we pulled through because, by the Grace of God, we know that come what may, what we mean to each other is more important than anything we might face.

It is soon the Muslim day for celebration. As I look at the faces of my children excitedly talking about the fun they will have on that day, I wonder about all those runaway kids and those who are physically close to their family but emotionally distant from them. I pray that for them, someday they and their loved ones will also realise that come what may, they mean more to each other than whatever they may face...everytime.

To each and everyone of you who is thinking of a loved one..or someone in your family, think of them with loving thoughts.

The Sweet Smell of Earth

2005-10-12T09:36:00.000+02:00

I have a total of 52 cousins. I know..we believe in big families :) Somehow, regardless of our big number and regardless of the proximity of our abodes, we hardly ever get to see one another. Still, we always knew that on special occasions, we will manage to catch up with each other and exchange news about our lives. We never thought that amongst the many of us, we would miss someone's absence.

One of my cousin is 33 years old, 2 years younger than me. She and I used to play together as children and I remember I was rather impatient with her cos she was the youngest in her family and a bit of a spoilt brat. My brothers and I were, on the other hand, brought up to believe that we have to take care of ourselves cos no one will cosset us. Still, as time goes by, my cousin and I drifted apart, separated by commitments and time. 5 years ago, my cousin migrated and the distance contributed to our estrangement. 1 year later, news reached me that my cousin was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was so shocked. She couldn't have breast cancer, she was so young, 29...She came back here to get treatment and to be close to her family. I visited her often and it was as if we had never been apart..our feelings for each other matured over time. Alhamdulillah, after intensive treatment and surgery, the doctor declared she was safe from the immediate threat of cancer. She went back to her chosen country and I received occasional news from her that she and her 2 boys were well.

2 weeks ago, I received a call from my mum to say that my cousin is back in our country. She is seeking some treatment. I visited her and was shocked to learn to that her cancer has relapsed. Not only that, because this time her cancer spread silently, it has spread to 7 other different spots, including the back of her skull and her spine. She is receiving intensive treatments but still, the pain is so intense that she requires morphine everyday to see her through. On my last visit to her , we talked about her sons. She spoke about them with so much love and pride..yet tinged with sadness. My heart was gripped with fear. Fear of something I cannot utter, even to myself. The same fear that gripped me last year when my mum was diagnosed with cancer.

Last week, I spoke with my cousin again on the phone and I was so horrified to hear how soft and weak her voice was. Suddenly I realise that no matter how many 52 is, if I lose one cousin, it will be a loss that will not only be missed but also mourned. My prayers for God's Mercy for her and to grant her all that is good for her and her family.

For me...those years when I fought with her for the last piece of candy..they suddenly seemed like yesterday.

Badges of Dishonour

2005-10-11T09:57:00.000+02:00

I was cooking the family's dinner the other day when some of the boiling oil splashed onto my tummy area. Despite my clothes and apron, I could feel the hot oil stinging and burning my skin. I yelped in pain and my maid hurried over to see what was wrong. I told her what happened and lifted my shirt to check the damage. True enough, there was a burnt patch, red and angry. My maid told me that I should be thankful that the burnspot is on my tummy where people can't see instead of other visible places like my face.

Later that night, with the burntspot stinging and slowly swelling and turning dark, I reflected on what my maid said. Yes, true, the burnspot is not seen by others but then, I feel its presence and I know of its cause, my carelessness. Somehow I feel this incident is but a micro reflection of our relationship with God. How many times have we committed a sin, away from the prying eyes of others and we stupidly believe that we are safe since we are not caught. How easy for us to forget that for every sin that we commit, our soul is tainted by one more sad truth that will haunt us in the future. Unless we can claim that we are creatures without conscience, our sins will catch up with us.

I am guilty of sins. Sins committed away from the prying eyes of others. May God forgive me but already these "spots on my soul" haunt me every day of my life. When people say that you have to live with your choices...I never knew how long that life can be...regretting my choices.

I am thankful indeed for this burnspot. Not because it wasnt on my face but because it reminds me of the difference between what we think is not known and what is truly known.

In your infinite Mercy..please forgive me God.

Chronicles of Lethargy

2005-10-06T08:00:00.000+02:00

I feel very tired. So very tired. Everyday, I open my eyes with the realisation that I am just too tired to open my eyes. Maybe if I close them for a while more, I will feel more rested. Sigh..I don't have that luxury. I don't even own a minute of my time. Hmm..my living is but an extension of other lives, namely my children. I feel divided between so many obligations, so many responsibilities, so many demands.

Without the luxury of time, my defence against meltdown is stoic stubbornness. My lethargy paints its own picture of my efforts. Who knows.

Audeo

2005-09-27T12:32:00.000+03:00

I dare. Do i ? All my life, my dad has always told me to believe in myself, to hold steadfast to my principles and to always stand up for right. My dad being my hero, I tried to live my life according to his words. I have gotten many bruises and cuts and fat lips from standing up for my principles (apparently boys aged 7 didnt know that they were not supposed to hit me back in a fight). Sigh..my fights in the name of truth and justice didn't stop when I entered university. I remember arguing actively with a student union's member because he refused to take up a student's cause because "it would anger the management".

Fast forward 10 years and I feel that all the fight has left me. I feel like Sisyphus..pushing the righteous boulder up the hill and then having to watch it roll back down again...over and over and over. In a world where the colours of morality are alarmingly dimmed by the glare of instant gratification and self-centredness, what is the point of courage ? What is the point of caring ? What is the point of anything ?

Audeo...I dare to push on because the burden of proof is not necessarily on me. The burden of courage in the face of adversity and challenge is, however, incumbent upon us all.

Far from the Madding Crowd

2005-09-16T12:40:00.000+03:00

I live in a country that prides itself in being the best or being number 1 or being the most etc etc etc. I suspect it could be because it is a very small country. Heck, it is smaller than a state in the US. To be the best or to be number 1, naturally sacrifices must be made. In our case, we sacrificed our soul in pursuit of material succour. Thus, a by product of our endeavours is an environment where people find it a chore to smile at each other, let alone to say hello. Where friendliness and cheerfulness are looked at in askance, as if the friendly and cheery sod is an escapee of a mental institution.

Where I work at, there is an old mosque at the centre of an area where the ethnic Malays,Arabs, Indians...Muslims in fact (and some tourists), like to come and shop for fabrics and clothes. Naturally, with most mosques, every Friday that mosque will be filled with Muslim men coming for the congregation prayer.

Today, I was rather tired and down so around lunchtime I went out of the office and decided to walk around at the shops there. The congregation had just ended and the men were milling out of the mosques. There was such a flurry of activities and men laughing and talking in brotherhood and camraderie. Most of them sat around for a meal and share stories over cups of coffee and tea.

Suddenly, I felt better. Ahhh a spot of humanity amidst a soul-less island of contrived perfection.

Ties that bind..and maybe not

2005-09-13T09:46:00.000+03:00

From young, my mom has always impressed upon me that family must always come first. She also instilled in us the importance of helping others, that we must share our blessings, that we do not think of ourselves as the most important people in the world. I grew up not obsessed with what is good for me, what is beneficial and rewarding for me alone. I, in turn, try to instill the same values into my children, because I believe in them.

2 days ago, I realised that sometimes even our elders have problems practising what they preached. For the first time I realised, all ties that bind us are invisible and because of that some choose not to see it and to ignore the responsibilities that come with it. I know then, as I know now, that ties bind us only with faith and beliefs. If we have faith, only then will we honour the responsibilities that come with it.

Footprints in our hearts

2005-09-01T08:08:00.000+03:00

Today, in the country where I am at, we celebrate Teacher's Day. A day we honour those wonderful humans who have taken it upon themselves to shape not only our minds, but our hearts and our spirit.

Early this morning, while I was busy going about my business, I heard my handphone beeped. A message. From whom I wondered. I opened the mailbox and saw that it was from a student I once taught 8 years ago. The message read " Happy teachers day !! Thank you for your part in making me what I am today !" Oh my goodness....I was so touched I stared at the handphone and smiled goofily.

When I first taught that class, they were 13 year olds, grappling with teenage life and its *world-affecting* issues. I was this no nonsense teacher whom they feared. One day, about a week after class started, I made a joke in class and nobody laughed. They all stared at me. It was then, I think, they realised that I was not just an information robot but a human being. As class went along, they began to appreciate me because I gave them something they did not expect from a teacher at that point in time, in the kind of education environment we were in. I gave them a voice. They were free to voice out anything and everything they wanted to. With manners and courtesy of course. I also took them under my wings and taught them out of the syllabus. I taught them about life. I remember one day I came into class bringing a audio player. They all started asking if we were going to listen to pop music. I said no, we were going to listen to a song from The Phantom of the Opera. Their jaws literally dropped. They all groaned in unison. I smiled and told them to close their eyes and experience the music. I then played the song "All I Ask of You". When the music ended, there was a silence and everyone opened their eyes. I could see that some of them were affected by the music. My greates reward was when a particularly mischievous boy smiled and told me "Madam, wow, that song is cool". I then launched into how language is important to movies and how language can be manipulated to evoke experience. That was an introduction to a lesson on creative writing.

So many memories I can recount and yet I cannot quite express them here. All I can say is, to have a message on my handphone like this, eight years after I left that school, this is one of life's sweeter moments.....

Weaknesses and Strength

2005-08-30T13:33:00.000+03:00

You know how the old saying goes "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak". If ever there is a lame excuse for self-indulgence, that is it. For my friend who feels that his flesh is weakening against his spirit, listen close.

Tell yourself anything u want. Make excuses, indulge. Give in to temptations, let passion rule. At the end of it all, once the storm of passion has settled and eased, what do u have left ?

You would be lucky if your answer is nothing. If u are unlucky, your answer would be ashes of your guilt and shame.

Be nice :)

2005-08-29T14:48:00.000+03:00

Someone asked me why do I write such gloomy stuff..very sobering and ummm..un-fun :) That got me thinking...

When we come across something that *makes* us gloomy or sad, why do we blame the thing for "making" us feel that way ? Why do we never blame ourselves for allowing ourselves to be negatively affected by that thing ?

Reminded me of an incident that happened 3 years ago. A friend of mine was walking along the road when he was knocked down by a car from the side. He wasnt angry with the driver, instead he thanked God that his injury wasn't worse.

That is a classic example of someone who takes responsibility for how he feels about something. So I think, next time, before I start saying this or that "made" me +ve or -ve, I hafta check my mental framework first. Ja ?

Movements and Reflections

2005-08-26T07:33:00.000+03:00

Searching for oneself...an exercise that has taken many a people on terrific journeys in this confined space called earth. Trekking up the Himalayas, trudging through the Sahara, booking a hotel on Mars (if and when it becomes hospitable)...all in the name of looking for answres. Answers to the one fundamental question. Who am I ?

Yet, how many actually begin that most important of journey towards self-discovery ? The journey within. The journey to explore the core essence of who we are. It's not an easy journey, full of twists and turns. For some it has been perilous and many stopped halfway. Why ? Because of two very huge obstacles. One is called Truth and the other, Denial.

When one seeks to know who one truly is, one must be prepared to know. For most of us, knowing is Pain.

I have begun that journey, and its still a very long long way more to go yet..I have felt so much pain. I need strength and courage....and belief.

Nothing is permanent cept death

2005-08-24T11:08:00.000+03:00

Something someone said offchance in the tube made me remember a case I had to handle a few years ago. She was a woman so distraught that she sank into deep depression. I had a hard time trying to understand the root cause of her depression because she enmesh so many issues at the same time. Finally, it occured to me that her depression was caused by internal conflict. She was a Buddhist who fell in love with a Catholic guy. Apparently, they loved each other and wanted to get married but she was forced by the guy's family to convert to Catholicism.

I let her talked uninterrupted and she went on and on about how she believed strongly in Buddhism, but how she couldn't live without the guy, how she thought perhaps Catholicism might help her etc etc.

Then, and even now, the first thing I thought was, how can we ever allow someone else be so responsible over our own happiness ? Why do we allow one person to decide on so many important things in our life ?

Love is not permanent. Nothing is permanent. Cept death.

Mind-play

2005-08-18T12:03:00.000+03:00

Why do we have vivid memories of some things and vague ones of others ? Why can we remember exactly the taste of that gorgeous hot fudge sundae we had last week and couldn't for the love of God remember a witty phrase we came across in a book we read yesterday ?

Why do we remember pain more than we can recount happiness ? Could it be because pain affect us spiritually more than happiness ? Very scary thought..but is it far from the truth ? Happiness makes us feel like we are petals of dusky rose, floating on air, kissed by the warmth of the sun..feeling that we could reach the sky. It is all very light.

Pain makes us feel like we are in the centre of a strong force that sucks away all light from within us, throwing us down, down, down, into a vortex of weeping melancholy, crushing our very life force from within us. It is all very deep and overpowering.

Sometimes it is a struggle to fly, to float, to reach for the sky from the deepest pit of our despair.

Book Review

2005-08-17T12:00:00.000+03:00

If u have time to read only 1 serious book, read : Prolegomena to The Metaphysics of Islam by Prof Naquib al-Attas.

Reviews and Whatnots

2005-08-16T11:36:00.000+03:00

I think most professional reviewers are *cough cough* snobs. I mean where do they get off telling people that a movie or a book or a play or a musical is so good "you must not miss it!!" or its soo bad that "one must not waste one's time with it " ? Sure, we have had our share of reviewing (which more often than not ends up as a movie-play-book-musical bashing session and reminiscences of days gone by) but those reviews are exchanged between friends as an opinion shared.

Professional reviews, on the other hand, are "legitimised" by a so-called qualified expert opinion by a so-called "insider". And the best part is they use "technical" and "industry" terms to make the review seem valid.

One example, spotted recently in a local newspaper, a review of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by a well-known critic :" The movie didn't capture the innocence of the book and Depp made Willy Wonka look ridiculous. The only saving grace in the movie are the chocolates and candies".

I wonder, is the critic an expert in Dahlology or Wonkalogy ? Or perhaps he/she thinks that her interpretation of the book is the only interpretation of the book ?

I first read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I was 8 years and now I am 35. Since then I have read the book more than 25 times. I even memorised the songs the Oompa Loompas sang. I watched the movie and I felt transported to the times when I felt that a bar of chocolates was a magical experience. In fact, I gasped out loud in the theatre when Charlie found the last golden ticket although I knew he would. So, did the movie fail to deliver ? Not to me. To me the movie managed to translate into colour and sounds the magic I felt reading the book so many years ago.

Well...as far as I am concerned, taste is subjective. If you want to watch or read something...JUST DO IT !!

Middle Rut-dom

2005-08-11T14:32:00.000+03:00

There is a famous supplication we make each time we pray and roughly translated, it means :

"Oh Allah I am not worthy of your Paradise, yet I fear your Hell"

I wonder how many of our live's story resemble the essence of the supplication ? That we are always stuck in the middle. We want something good and not striving enough to achieve it, at the same time we don't want something bad and yet we tend to gravitate towards what destroys us.

Mediocrity doesn't inspire passionate realisation of true happiness or abject misery. It just leaves you unmotivated to achieve more than what you hate having.

Such shouldn't be our live's story

Outside Looking In

2005-08-09T17:34:00.000+03:00

What makes us always point the other way when we think of something that is perhaps not right ? What makes us blame another person for our inability to act based on our own perceptions ? My Scandinavian friend thinks that when a woman wears a burqa she is totally responsiblefor impeding dialogue. I tried to tell him that physical hijab is nothing compared to a mental one.

I think maybe the world will be slightly more peaceful if we start owning up to our bias and fears rather than conveniently place the onus on the other person.

My magic wish

2005-08-06T11:52:00.000+03:00

When I was very young and my staple diet was fairy tales and Enid Blyton, I used to envy those people who seemed to always have a convenient fairy nearby when they needed wishes and somethingamajig like that. When I read what they wished for I always ended up feeling disgusted because I thought that their wishes are so lame. Man, who wants a magic flying carpet, or riches etc. I thought I had a foolproofed plan. Just ask for more wishes heh heh.

Now that I'm much older ( and in desperate need for those wishes ), I think it will stress me considerably to have someone place such a tremendous amount of pressure on me. Imagine...you need so many things in your life and yet you have to narrow it down to just 3 important ones. Which would you have chosen and what would that have said about you ?

We think we know what we need but half the time we are very confused in our search for what we need. A friend of mine told me that he feels that it is important for him to have a girlfriend. Mentally I paused because it has been eons since I hear something like that from any of my friends. Then I listened to why he has to have a girlfriend and I realised that he didn't actually want a girlfriend, he wanted a piece of him back. Namely, the feeling of control over one's destiny and happiness.

It's scary sometimes how we think we know ourselves and yet how little we actually do. Still, that somehow doesn't negate the fact that some of us just go through life without a single existential thought yet we still have the arrogance to think that we can be responsible for another's life (think Paris Hilton wanting to have a baby).

Right now if I have only one wish to be granted, I would wish that all the hatred in our hearts will be replaced by love, respect and tolerance.

Peace.

Grrr to Cliches

2005-08-03T13:58:00.000+03:00

"Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved before."

I swear I feel like socking it to the guy who ever said this. He is either a masochist or someone who thought he was in love and has no idea of the kind of pain to lose someone whom you loved very very much.

I know there are many of you out there who will disagree with me. I mean cerebrally I understand the arguments. Love is a many splendoured thing and to have tasted the joy and beauty of it is to have lived etc etc etc... I, on the other hand, beg to differ.

To immerse yourself in experiencing someone else, to breathe in the very life-force pulsing through his veins, to hear your heart beat in synchronicity with his and to have a reason to smile at the world in general and then to know that the very smile you seek first thing in the morning, your very personal sunshine is gone from your life, well I will pass on that thankyouverymuch.

I subscribe to the notion that you cannot miss what you never had. Sure, perhaps not having love in one's life is perhaps to lead a lonely existence and to some, an unfulfilled one. However, one is also spared from the enormity of the pain of the eventual loss. Makes one wonder whether the erratic and temporal period of delirious joy is very much worth the extended length of pain one has to afterwards suffer.

I am just spouting rhetorics. I disclaim any personal investment in any of the statements above. I can only smile when my friend flippantly said that love is just a 4-letter word.

My Blue Lagoon

2005-08-02T09:50:00.000+03:00

Doesn't everyone have their very own escape haven...some place they can go to, away from the things that plague and trouble their minds ?

Yesterday I went to a small secluded part of the beach..a place I have not set foot on for a long while. It was strange going there and seeing some familiar places, knowing that while things may look the same, I have unalterably changed. I looked around me with the jaded eyes of someone older and perhaps, someone very unrecognisable from the young teen who felt at peace lying still on her mat, eyes closed, listening to the rythmic lappings of the waves..feeling at peace with herself and the world.

Nowadays, I find that if I have the need for a retreat I delve deep into myself, looking for that small outlet of truth that I know is my only hope for salvation. Desperately grasping about for that feeling of peace with myself..and the world.

Collateral Damage

2005-07-28T13:17:00.000+03:00

I. am. feeling. hostile. Arghhh.

In the concrete jungle warfare, soldiers wear suits instead of camouflage and strategy involves backstabbing and sabotaging. One either engage oneself in the melee or stay away at the fringes. The first choice is a big gamble where you either win the battle and be successful or you lose and forfeit pride. The problem with staying at the fringes of the battle is you sometimes end up as collateral damage.

I can show you my war wounds.

Zombie sunny side up

2005-07-28T09:45:00.000+03:00

I am very tired. Exhausted. Feeling like there isn't even a single ounce of energy in me. I can make lotsa excuses. Too much work, kids driving me crazy, not enough time. But I can't lie to myself. I have just been running myself thin. Why ? Hmm..yes why indeed.

You know the classic line about drowning yourself in work so that you don't feel anything ? At some level I think that is what I am doing. I am driving myself to the state of pure exhaustion so that I will stop thinking. Suspend your judgement if you will for there is much merit in existing...as opposed to living.

Oh save your pity ! We all make some cosmic sense of our little insignificant presence here on this earth. Some drive on the fast lane of life while others amble along slowly down the winding road. I'm just jutting my thumb, hitchiking my way through the galaxy of pale dying stars.

Valkyrie Venom

2005-07-26T09:17:00.000+03:00

Power is seductive. I am not even talking about the kind of power President's wield ( tho' I must say some Presidents seem better at pretending to wield power than the rest. Case in point: Dubya). I am talking about pervasive power, so subtle that one can confuse it with well-intending kindness.

It is the power to persuade others to think the way you do just because you can. This kind of power is very seductive, luring you to abandon conscience for that brief exhilarating moment of being...Right.

I have on many occasions felt the mesmerising pull of that power, the most recent being my encounters with Mr Scandia. God..how easy it would be to just shake the sense into him and re-align his thoughts. Thank God I desisted. And thus he goes merrily on his way thinking that beauty and attraction lie in the domains of the external make-up. While I shrug back into my comfortable cape of disengagement.

"Drunk
On a precipice
Falling
Afraid to Plunge
Sober
Wakefulness and dreams
Lost
I am not who I am"

What ?

2005-07-25T18:43:00.000+03:00

"I am a whale in a bottle, blinking, staring at the world outside"

Funniest true sentence I have ever heard. The occasion that sentence was uttered was one of mirth in the midst of chaos. I like that. To be able to maintain a semblance of lightness when everyone else think or believe that all is lost. The person who uttered it ? A funny serious man. Someone I respected very much.

Me ? I would think of myself as a jumping Mexican bean having a lil samba on a cool nite bathed in nothing but golden moonlight.

Scribble me timbers aye matey

2005-07-25T10:46:00.000+03:00

What use of colours
Splashes of reds, yellows, blues
Against a sea of sameness, a uniformed acquiscence
Drowned in a massive conformity
Hues seeping into obscurity

What use of scents
Sweet tantalising perfumes
Smothered, suffocated
Repelled by the smell of nothingness
Feebly blown away by the sweeping breeze

What use of wildflowers
Tangling roots struggling to stay upright
Buried deep in a field of weeds,
Closed in amongst the grasses and creepers
Dead unnoticed.

Doin' time for mo crime

2005-07-22T11:21:00.000+03:00

Too often we spout rhetorics. All in the name of appearing politically correct, more humane or the very least, non-superficial. I am currently entertaining a guest from Europe. He looks very typically Scandinavian, tall, blonde and blue eyes. Where I am at, he is assured of popularity due to his colour and race, regardless of his personality. I took some time off to show him around and used the opportunity to observe him and his eccentricities. It was a very interesting exercise because it was like a micro-observation of the greater social conditions using two very personal binoculars; my eyes and my mind.
We often look at things from one side, more often than not from our side, but we forget that what we look at has the distinct possibility of looking at us back. This idea struck me when Mr Scandia and I were sitting in a cafe one day. We had a seat just by the glass window where we could see people walking outside. As I sat there comfortably in a sofa sipping my hazelnut latte, I started noticing people looking into the glass window as they passed. I began to wonder what is it they see. I realised then that sometimes the subject can be the object and vice versa. I voiced my observations to Mr Scandia and he, being the bery young and naive (I think) person, told me that it is us that is inside watching those on the outside. I paused, wondering how is it that people can sometimes talk about realities in absolute terms when life is not about absolutes ?
In absolute terms I am someone who is at best caustically funny and at worst, weird. The problem I think lies in the fact that I am comfortable being weird. Oh dear. What a merry chase I have led my poor unsuspecting parents. Growing up in the 70s, I was supposed to be like any other good daughters, always obeying my parents and trying my darnest to be that paragon of virtue I am accursed to be, what with me being Asian and all. I guess it would give him a heart attack if I confess this but I have to thank my grandpa and Dad for making me Me.
My beloved Grampa passed away in late 1999,,,peaceful and in the arms of the woman he loved, my Gramma who joined him late last year. What a man he was ! He thought me all I have to know about being independent. He taught me that should I fall face down, no matter how sweet the smell of earth, I must get up. For if I don't, then I would have allowed earth and the world to envelope me in my non-movement. My experience reduced to nothing but the earth around me. About my Dad..wow. Suffice I think to say...Thank you Dad for being You and for allowing me to be Me.
Though, you know, being Me may perhaps not be the best thing for the world :P My adventures in trying to be true to myself are best left for another time. One thing though...umm so why is weird bad ?

Ghosts of our past

2005-01-31T04:25:00.000+02:00

Deja vu can sometimes not present itself in a nice way, especially if it manifests itself as a ghost of your past. Sigh..how fast can one run, how far can one go to escape remorse ? I doubt any speed or distance can overtake guilt. Wisdom, how much it is needed in one's youth yet only to be attained as hindsights, in most cases. Yes, the learning process is very much central to attaining wisdom. Bah ! Who needs experience to teach us. What we need is a super microchip with inbuilt conscience.

As a favour to a friend, I am currently teaching 11 classes of 13 and 15 year olds. Everyday, as I step into the class, I bring with me optimism and everyday as I step out of school I go home with fear and very much troubled. How do we teach morals ? How do we inculcate values ? Its a very daunting task indeed. Sometimes when I sit at the table watching the students do the work assigned (or at least some of them try to do them) while some stare listlessly into space or talk with friends, wishing school would end cos life is about enjoying, I feel nostalgic. A strong sense of deja vu envelops me.

One of my close secondary school friend, Rashidah, was such a creature. She was so restless that it sometimes amazed me how she can control herself so far as not to jump and down wildly in class during History lessons (her nemesis). Despite my rather good grades, I too found school somewhat of a bore. I too grew listless and started to stare into space rather more frequently in my final year of Secondary 4. Life, to me then, was about celebrating my youth and living my life. To misquote Shakespeare..ahhhh how short indeed is our time having splendour in the grass. Fast forward, I managed to graduate from university and is currently pursuing my MA while Rashidah is very much done with school by Secondary 4 and last I heard from her, she stays home as a fulltime homemaker now.

I try to picture my life other than what I have now and I cant. Knowing who I am as a person and what I have in me as my capabilities, I know now what I didnt know then. I love being involved in academics. I love learning. I love studying and I love knowing. A love I didnt discover till a few years after I left secondary school. Question is now...how do I inject this love into these helplessly confused teenies ? The bigger question is how do I teach my own children how to embrace knowledge, how to celebrate their intelligence and how to realise that by learning they become who they truly are.

To Moms with Love

2004-08-18T19:46:00.000+03:00

Motherhood..a single word to capture a whole lifetime of experience. Somehow it seems inadequate yet inclusive. Hmmm...

A couple of days ago I was lying flat on my back to try and ease the backache that seemed to intensify by the hour and my two kids were eyeing me speculatively. My son in particular was rather shifty as he kept giving sliding glances at me and biting his lips. Finally I couldn't stand feeling like a grotesque insect in a jar any longer and asked him if there was anything on his mind. He ummed and ahhed and finally asked me if I felt pain. I said yes, my back hurt. He asked again if it was because of my pregnancy and I affirmed. He then asked if my surgery is going to hurt bad so I explained the procedure to him. Me and my big mouth ! Did I stop there ? Nooo....I had to recite to him the "other stuff" like post-surgery pain etc etc. He gave my daughter the look and nodded. With the confident look of males who had come before him and those who will be born after him, he sage ly said "See Solehah ? I am lucky that I am a boy. I will never be pregnant and suffer childbirth". (At this juncture my daughter stuck out her thumb long enough to say "So what!" before resuming sucking it again).
My mother antennae came up and I thought to myself "Ahha..perfect time for value inculcation". I started by giving a small laugh and told them that I acually pity their father. When they asked why I told them because he can't get pregnant and give birth. My son was very wide-eyed and asked me how come. I told them that Allah SWT is soo Gracious to women that He Blessed us with the ability to carry a life in our womb. "Abah is your father and he loves you but he can never feel how it is like to have a life growing in him. I carried you inside of me, I felt your kick, your movements. Your heartbeat pulsed in rythm to mine and my food became your nourishment. My du'ahs became your hopes and my dhikr your music. When the time came, my body was strong enough to let go and allow you to be who you were supposed to be. Only a woman get to feel and experience all these Wafi and for that I am grateful."

After the kids had gone to sleep and I was left prey to my thoughts, I started to reflect on my understanding of motherhood. Subhanallah....truly. Motherhood is a fulltime job, a lifetime commitment, the essence of a woman at the point of conception. Yet, how often have we sacrificed this blessing of Allah with our other preoccupation. I remember the early days of my mother's battle with cancer, I lost track of time and myself. I skipped meals and I pushed myself physically hard, travelling back and forth the hospital and home, doing housework for two houses. I had very little time for my two children and I had lesser time for the little life growing within me. Sigh...who was I? What should I be first and everything else second? It was a question that only I must answer.

My mind travelled back to when the two kids were babies. I remembered the times when they had high fever. I stayed up the whole night just staring at them, anxiously looking for signs of danger. Sponging them, making du'ahs. I was alone, my husband asleep from weariness. I was weary, dead tired but sleep was never an option for me. Not once. With motherhood, I developed this amazing ability to negate my self. Memories flitted through my mind. First time Wafi crawled to me and the bursting joy I felt as he held me proudly, happy that he made it. That special dinner when Solehah announced that she will be reciting the du'ah for eating and proceeding to do so in her baby-ish singsong manner. The hurt I felt when Wafi first said no to me. The fear that gripped me when Solehah fell from her tricycle....memories. I know that I will have lots more of them as I travel through this life as a mother.
Mothers...teachers, protectors, disciplinarian, nurturers, comforters, playmates, scolders, a warm comforting lap to rest your worried head on, muffin makers, the one person who seem to be able to hear our inner voice. That is why mothers always seem to understand what is it we are not saying..and why we always fail when we try to lie to them.

Sometimes I wonder how on earth do mothers through the ages cope with these insane responsibilities and not go bonkers. I do know that there are times when the heartbreak of being a mother is so intense that you double up with it. Of course the answer is rather simple. Allah SWT has Blessed mothers with an infinite amount of strength. The strength to smile after tears, the strength to forego ourselves in the interest of those we love, the strength to make very tough decisions, the strength to do what kills us to do (like spank my daughter), the strength to go on when lying facedown is so much easier, the strength to forgive despite heartbreaks. Most importantly, the strength to realise that we are mothers and that is who we are and what we need be.

A wonderful sister who is in her early stage of motherhood once told me of her fears about being a mother, about not being good enough to be a mother. I told her that regardless of what we feel about ourselves, Allah SWT has Chosen us, our womb, to place one of His Creation in. That must mean that we are special enough for Him to allow us to carry this responsibility. Because of this, because we are the chosen one, we must try not to fail Him. How do we do that ? By telling ourselves that from the time we know that little life is in us, we must be sincere in our embrace of our new role, our new life. We must try our very best to do the most important job in the whole wide world. Be a mother to Allah's beautiful Creations.

Shukr Alhamdulillah....I have been chosen thrice and await longingly for the newest addition to my life. My third child. Still, despite my happiness, I am always aware of one fundamental fact. I own none of my children. They are mine in so much that Allah has entrusted them to me, as a responsibility, as my amanaat. They are still His..answerable to Him and Him alone. My main job is to help them become Muslims who know Him as their Creator and who live their lives befittingly as His Creation, with the full understanding of what being His 'aabid is. Most difficult part of being a mother ? Not the sleepless nights. Not the frustrations nor anger. Not even the heartbreaks. To me, the most difficult part of being a mother is to be worthy of being a mother. How do you teach honesty when you are not even honest about being His slave ? Sigh...and oh. Did I also mention the pain of letting go and allowing your children be who they are ? ;)

To all mothers out there, past, present and future, may Allah SWT reward you for your jihaad and may He make all your decisions easy and wise. Most importantly, may He make you worthy of being that special person, a mother.

Wassalam

Eternal Darkness of the Blocked Minds

2004-07-20T05:46:00.000+03:00

I am confounded, confuzzled and stumped (a seemingly increasingly daily event nowadays). I am beginning to feel that knowledge is something that is alien to me and others who are like me. I mean, everyday I see lotsa confusion and misunderstandings about Islam and Muslims and everyday I see Muslim "intellects" and non-intellects trying hard to explain away these confusion and misunderstandings. At times, it appears as if a game of chess is being played where moves and countermoves are made to block or advance, depending on your position. What puzzles me is the fact that in a game of chess you try your hardest to win (at least under normal circumstances and not when you are playing with your 5-year old girl who is convinced she is invincible) but there have been too many instances where Muslims are setting themselves up to deliberately lose in the battle of wits. I give you one clear example.

In a land far east, there was a tiny island who prides itself in racial harmony living and religious tolerance. One day, the chief of that island went to Iran to establish close working relations. Since Iran is a well-known Muslim country, the chief took with him the head of Muslim Affairs to assist him on the trip. Naturally, the press went along to report on major milestones. Now, one of the newspapers, printed in a language spoken by the predominantly Muslim race, carried a report accompanied by a photo. In that photo were 3 Iranian girls who weren't wearing a jilbab (head covering) and smiling at the photographers. Here's the funny part. The caption for the picture went somewhat like this : These three uncovered girls, a situation not found in Iran previously, represents a modern and open Iran today.

When I read that, I went whaaaaaaaaaaaa ??? Ok, let us take a stock check here. First we have to explain to non-Muslims that the jilbab is just a small piece of clothing that in no way impedes our progress and development. Now we have to explain that to MUSLIMS too ? I mean for heaven' sake !!!! How on earth do we educate the non-Muslims into understanding when the Muslims themselves are sadly ignorant about something so fundamentally simple ???? So now me and the rest of the jilbab-wearing Muslim female population who are some of them respected doctors, teachers, lawyers, scientists et al, are backward and non-modern ? Aaarrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Where do we even begin ? How do we put out the fire in the field when our own house is burning down ? How do we educate non-Muslims when we have to re-educate the indoctrinated Muslims ? Sighhhhh.................

I am too upset and tired to even discuss these further. Allow me to crawl back into my backward, primitive and unmodern cave, scarf and all, while I try to find the humour in all these. Else, I fear sanity is not an option.

I am a cheerful robot..wheeeeeeeeeeeeee ?

2004-07-09T17:41:00.000+03:00

Cogito ergo sum....I think; I am. Hmm..what a loaded statement. Descartes would be so disappointed to know that a thought-existence is so passe that it is in danger of becoming a fashion faux pas. Inconsequential living, now THAT is what we call the style of the day dahling. Who wants to be burdened with angst and existential issues when hedonism is just an Ecstasy away ? Ahhhhh a whole lifetime of care-notness.

Cept, I have this particular aversion for being a cheerful robot. Granted life is more pleasant without having to ask oneself the purpose of life, still wasn't being called shallow or the village idiot a derogatory term once upon a time ? That was before Paris Hilton actually became watchable on TV.

Shoot..I can't escape. I hafta think about Iraq (more carefully than Bush ever did I can betcha), about the plight of the Palestinians (btw like Israel care what the World Court thinks ?), about whatever. Why ? Arghhhhh...because...well because ?

Because I must. Because it is intrinsically who I am. Because it is what I should do. Because I am not just a human being, I am also a humane being.

Thank God.

The dichotomy of changes

2004-07-09T06:23:00.000+03:00

I hate it when the bosses tell you in that onerous voice of theirs that "Change is necessary" right before they slam you with another idiotic and futile attempt at "restructuring to compete". We all know that change is necessary (cept maybe for my increasing dress size). Cerebrally, that is. I wonder how many of us are existentially attuned to the necessity of change ? Certainly not those same bosses for if they were, some of them would not only leave the company, they would also do humanity a favour by booking a capsule-space in Mars. But I digress...

I guess we all have a somewhat love-hate relationship with change (not the kind that is associated with stocks). On the one hand, when times are bad and our circumstances look more desperate than when a mouse is stuck in a small box with a very hungry shrunken cat who happens to lust after mice in his dreams every night and has a personal cookbook with a gazillion recipes to prepare mice dishes, we yearn for change and would be rather bewildered if change doesn't come soon. As in, NOW. But, being the somewhat inherently yet clueless control-freaks we are, at varying degrees, change throws off our balance. Unmitigated change initiated by life is not something we welcome at most times because it upsets our control over our lives. Especially if the change doesn't quite fit in nicely with our pastel outlook on our future plans. It's rather hysterically funny to see how some of us react to this kind of changes. I do know that there was once I would have done the Magician Circle proud with my scrambled attempts at sleight-of-hands, disappearing acts and hypno-induced thought manipulations all in the name of maintaining same-ness. What is it about uncertainties that fluster us so ?

Of one thing I am certain though...oh forget it. Change the subject will ya ?

The Issue with Raisins

2004-07-08T00:40:00.000+03:00

I often wondered why so many people have problems with raisins. I tried to comprehend the existential aversion to its...taste ? Colour ? Texture ? Parentage ? Hmm...no clues. Until one fine day, I was sitting bored at my kitchen table making what seemed to be a bland fruit salad when I hit upon the happy notion of adding black and yellow raisins. As my impatient fingers reached for the packet of raisins in the fridge, I hesitated. Hang on ! What am I doing ?? Adding raisins will guarantee that my salad ain't gonna be the heart-throb of the day. I paused..and my eyes spied on a packet of seedless prunes. I stared hard at it and suddenly comprehension blighted my grey matter to flinders. Thats it !! This is the answer to the mystery of the raisins hate-campaign. The prunes overpowered the senses by throwing a curve ball. It's all in the size...I mean if you look at it, the prunes are as wrinkled as the raisins, so texture is out. There are black raisins, as black as the prunes, so colour is out. The prunes are sour fer Gawd's sake whilst raisins are sweet, so it ain't the disposition. The big diff is the prunes are whole lotta bigger than the poor raisins. How very post-modern, post-Cold War ideologies. The small people are always stuck at the fringes of the grand palate. Sigh..I am a minority in my country..so. Guess I am a raisin.