Organs

The calm sea bellies a potential for the thundering waves,

as the calm demeanour of a man hides the fury of a beast.

Our actions are extensions of the mind, 

instructions stemming from thoughts, 

thoughts stemming from the inclinations of 

the Heart. 

On the authority of Abu 'Abdullah al-Nu'man bin Bashir (ra) who said: I heard the Messenger of Allah(sas) say:

"The halal is clear and the haram is clear, and between them are matters unclear that are unknown to most people. Whoever is wary of these unclear matters has absolved his religion and honor. And whoever indulges in them has indulged in the haram. It is like a shepherd who herds his sheep too close to preserved sanctuary, and they will eventually graze in it. Every king has a sanctuary, and the sanctuary of Allah is what He has made haram. 

There lies within the body a piece of flesh. 

                    If it is sound, the whole body is sound; 

    and if it is corrupted, the whole body is corrupted.

Verily this piece is the heart."

[Bukhari & Muslim]

I asked a friend, 

"What is more important, Ilm (Knowledge) or Akhlaq (Morals)?" 

"Knowledge."

"On the Day of Judgement, what is put to question?" 

"The Taqwa (Piety/Enlightenment) of a person." 

"Where does Taqwa stem from?" 

"Morals." 

"Where does Knowledge emerge from?"

"Morals." 

"What is more important, Knowledge or Morals?" 

"Morals."

My tongue needs disciplining, it sways too easily, speaks too quickly and opines too blatantly.

Hardest of Hearts

   In response, Shaykh Jarudi simply recited a verse, "If only people would have learned humility when suffering came to them from Us (God)! No, their hearts only became harder, and (when their hearts had hardened) the devil made their foul misdeeds appear even more alluring to them"

   In our self-idolatry, we become so oblivious - absorbed in arrogance, we forget others, forget God and forget ourselves.

   I muttered as if to myself: "We forget God until God allows us to drift in forgetfulness!" Then I raised my voice and recited, "God reveals the signs so you might understand! But your hearts become as hard as rock, or even harder!" And despondently, I started to walk toward the door, but I must have looked defeated because I heard Shaykh Jarudi: "Why don't you complete it? Complete the verse!"

   I looked at him, but before I could respond, he proceeded to complete the Qur'anic passage himself: "For there are rocks that are porous through which streams flow, and there are rocks that crumble down in awe of God. And God does not fail to observe what you do."

   I stared at the shaykh, looking stupefied or perhaps stunned - I am not sure which! He commented rather matter-of-factly: "Son, even at our hardest - even when our hearts become hard as rockm good - like the water - still comes, and even among the most obstinately arrogant, at a single unexpected moment, we fall to our knees in love! If water can come through the hardest of rocks, you think God cannot come through 

the most forgetful of souls and the hardest of hearts?"

________________________________________

                    

Then your hearts became hardened after that, being like stones or even harder. For indeed, there are stones from which rivers burst forth, and there are some of them that split open and water comes out, and there are some of them that fall down for fear of Allah . And Allah is not unaware of what you do.

[2:74]

Process

Obscure corners shy away from the light,
unable to see when it shines too brightly,
too comfortably settled in the dark place.

With constancy and persistent patience,
bits of shadow fall apart to light in place,
shades of black to grey and then to white,

Not too fast or it will run away quick,
slow-paced but methodically urgent,
forceful waltzing of light to shadow,

I can feel the corners enlightening now,
purposeful light blaze with comforting warmth,
in time all will be lit in white as it should be.

No good thing comes easy,

Pounds of earth await the seed sown in darkness,

Blazing fire and crushing hammer tempers steel,

Force crushing bone give rise to even stronger bone.

So too must Man go through the same fate,

To rise above the dark desires of his Nature,

To suffer blazing fire that he may be purified,

To batter his Soul against itself to emerge stronger,

For truly, no good thing comes easy.

The symphony of the world is heard clearly above the din of the chaos and life,

Nature brings with it the peace of Life fulfilled and dedicated to purposeful existence,

A tree grows no higher than it has to, a leaf falls not when it is not time, and all is in order.

How could I have not heard it before, the beautiful orchestra of creation laying in beautiful silence.

Who remember Allah while standing or sitting or [lying] on their sides and give thought to the creation of the heavens and the earth, [saying], "Our Lord, You did not create this aimlessly; exalted are You [above such a thing]; then protect us from the punishment of the Fire. 

[3:191]

Foot paths

Ibn `Umar relates that Allah’s Messenger (peace be upon him) placed his hand on his shoulder and 

said: “Be in the world as if you are a stranger or a wayfarer.”

Dunya is a bridge from one destination to another, a path and a winding road.

Be the traveller that recognizes this and seek not the temporary abode by the road side, and slowly travel to the palace promised. 

Be the stranger that lays his feet in strange lands, respecting and respectable, honouring and honourable, different from what he sees around him, but true to his calling and nature. And walk on by.

Black-Smith.

Truly,

when we wholeheartedly seek for Peace, Peace will be found,
when we wholeheartedly seek for Guidance, Guidance will be shown,
when we wholeheartedly seek for Answers, Answers will be given,
when we wholeheartedly seek for Strength, Strength will rise,
when we wholeheartedly seek for Assurance, Assurance will come,

only with hearts wholly searching.

astaghfirullahalazim.

Metal burning hot and bright,

Painful, Searing, Tearing, Necessary,

Impurities appear to be removed, painstakingly,

Bang, Bang, Bang, turn it around, Bang, Bang Bang, repeat.

Over and over again the process happens, until the metal is firm and clean.

Post-War Proposition

There is a resounding desire and urgency to change.

Over and over again.

Over and over again.

Over and over again.

When, when will you learn that your actions can either detriment or enhance your well-being.

Death comes before Life, and as such, must I die before I can truly Live?

We pursue that fluttering pleasures of this world for naught.

You have seen, yet you do not see as you should.

ARE YOU BLIND TO THE TRUTH MY INTIMATE FRIEND?

No, truly, it is I who is blind.

I have no sight of the true Reality, this illusion so real, drawn before my eyes like a cinema, of lights and smoke. My eyes glaze over the glimmering lies and their ephemeral satisfaction, my mind seeking comfort in the way of the world and the way it perceives it and my body weakened and succumbed to its numbing senses.

Truly, I have lived a life full of deceit, and self-deceit.

Truly, I have not learnt my place when I still hold onto my place.

Truly, I am a being still drowning in mistakes and wrong-doing.

Verily, I seek the way to find Truth, the Truth and to abide by it.

Verily, I seek to lose myself in knowing my self.

Verily, I need aid to save me from myself.

Intention

It begins with a stirring in the Heart, and it escalates up, to be recognized by the Mind, and alas it is broadcast to the body, the limbs and the lips, to be affirmed and executed in action.

Like a river flowing downstream bringing water, it paves the way for Life and Living along her breadth, she paves the land and the land shows her permission, two coming as one to shape us.

From top to bottom, the connection is never cut and all is an ever-flowing series, one affecting the other, the previous and the next, would you rather a clear clean stream or a murky toxic flow?

All I'm saying is, it all begins with intention, all that we do, stems from there, all that we do, affects that,

The Heart

How then can we afford to go about, dripping toxic from our fingertips, poison from our lips, and dirt in our thoughts? Are they not indications of a diseased Heart? Crippled by the Nafs, her insatiable appetite, stealing away what we could have given to nourish the Heart. As diseases go, the ailing Heart needs remedy, and remedy often comes in bitter forms, painful forms and sometimes unwanted forms.

How else can we cure the sick?

Ya Tabib Al-Qalb, cure my ailing Heart and rid her of the diseases that pull at her flesh.

Poker

Open the book and read my story,
the words printed in black, spaces,
colouring the canvas of your mind.

Every fate woven in place, certain,
every thread, in length and colour,
the design created, yours and mine.

Actors and actresses in a play,
characters living life in a book,
each with a role, cruel or kind.

_____________________________________

I always think I know my cards, my options, possibilities and potential, 

but never the random turn of events, the random chance events and simply the rules of Life. 

______________________________________

Najm

In the cover of darkness, with the sound of waves lapping lazily on the sand, with the wind blowing softly a breeze, I sat and looked upon the stars for the glittering light that guided civilizations of people before me when the night was darkest and the moon was absent. 

Glittering stars that stayed true to their course and purpose , never straying away from a singular course, of which I take after in this ever-changing landscape of life, death and everything in between. 

I look longingly into them, their illumination brief but true, hoping that in the solace of night and solitude, that I may find inspiration for change and improvement, for I lay in a chasm of my own doing, too deep to call for help, too shallow to call for help, for only I can help myself in the undertaking of my self. 

I look upon the stars, their glittering light enveloped by infinite darkness, yet still brightly they shine. How I long to be clean and bright, like a shard of light in the sea of darkness.

Chicken Rice

I look for quiet places, they hold great value to me.
The bustle of a hawker centre can be a quiet place.
The tranquillity present in an empty park is one too.
The company of someone can also be a quiet place.

Quiet places are places where peace is present,
peace and harmony, amidst chaos and troubles.
Some people can speak endlessly, their words like honey.
Some people can speak endlessly, their words like noise.

I will smile, seemingly randomly,

looking at things, person, places,

even if no joke or story was told,

simple joy tugging at my cheeks.

_________________________________________

When I was younger, I battled anger and sadness and disappointment, putting up a wall against them, denying them entry into my heart. For a while, I felt victorious, thinking myself overcome such emotions. Presumptuous.

Like water ebbing at shore, as time went by, my wall got weaker and weaker, yet the emotions never stopped, as we live, we experience them over and over again. Yet we can only hold out for so long before the wall crumbles. 

They ate me from the inside out, no one made me angry, I was angry at myself. No one brought me sadness, yet I felt sad, and disappointed in others and myself. Oh the irony, of those ignorant of the condition of their own Hearts.

________________________________________

I was standing still, my mind free from any conscious thoughts.

I was awake, alive and aware, yet somehow, I felt light, floaty.

Sometimes, we do things that we have no good reason for. We do things that we are not sure if they are good or bad, foolish or wise. Then it dawned upon me, when we do such actions, we have given ourselves to the flow of the Universe. Of course there is an opposing force to the flow, and they seek to corrupt our desires and mislead us. Then I realized the importance of knowing myself, to know and distinguish between the two forces that governs our actions and Life. Often, this is the simple test that makes, or breaks us.

Tally

“ [He is ] 
subtle in his movements, 
sweet to look at,
he seeks out the loftiest of matters, and has the most outstanding moral ethics. 
He is not prejudiced against he whom he does not like, 
nor biased in favour of one he loves,
he is hardly a burden; and instead is very helpful. 
He perfects his actions as if he is being watched, 
lowers his gaze, 
is liberal in his giving, and never turns away a beggar. 
He considers his words carefully and guards his tongue. 
He neither accepts falsehood from a friend, nor rejects the truth from an enemy. 
He only learns in order that he might know, 
and he only seeks to know in order that he may act. 
When he travels with worldly people, he is the smartest of them, 
and when he travels with the people of the Hereafter, he is the most pious from among them. ”

— Prophet Muhammad al-Mustafa [SAW], describing the believer. 

Blind

we are strangers in a strange world, sometimes we feel like we are the only one that is strange in a world full of people who think themselves not strange. Other times we meet strangers who are like us, and we are comforted by the meeting of other people who are just as strange as us. But, those are rare moments and they are far in between. Everybody is strange in their own way, its just a matter of time before we meet another who is strange in our way too. We differ in our thoughts, our opinions, our personalities, our way of life, our beliefs, our principles, our morals, and so many little things that make us who we are, and differences are highlighted in this world where anything that is not accepted or is not seen by many is regarded as more than strange, unacceptable even. people are strange and often see in others what they either want, or dont want, yet rarely do they see in themselves for who they truly are. sometimes, a mirror must be placed in front of their eyes before they see but even then, some people do not. blinded by judgements and stereotypes, we have become a people with narrow minds, despite our expansive vision. i am a weird person and i often wonder about others about myself about the world and about people i habe never seen. strange because i find my makings quite different from others, It is no fault of others that they find me strange, even i find myself strange at times. and sometimes i find myself behaving in a certain way that even i would frown upon, and thus the disappointment when we lose track of our selves and instead become something else,. what do we become? I dont know, but I know for sure it is not who i usually am. I have been warned before, about the dangers of losing my self, and how it can lead to other things which are frowned upon. But the strangest part is when I realize I have yet to know myself fully yet, how then can i even begin to lose myself? this, this is a revelation. is who we are something we already know innately? Sometimes i wonder too much. in the midst of our very busy lives, sometimes we dont even wonder about these things, our attention too caught up in whatever that we do in our lives, no space given for thought and reflection. Life.

Cake

The shadow we cast is only as high as the Sun is.
We are still the very same being we have always been.
The world revolves and changes, how can we not?
We are but one cog in the intricate system of cogs.
As we grind through the days, passive or active,
how can we not feel the wear and tear at our teeth?
The shadow is longest, darkest, at dawn and dusk.
The shadow is shortest, invisible, at scorching noon.
Do we face the inevitable heat, or the comforting dark?

______________________________

I walk along, on blinding white floor, surrounded by blinding white walls without a ceiling.
I am looking down, my eyes lowered but opened to see all that I can only bring myself to.
I look behind, and I see a trail of black footsteps, and I wonder, only to realize, it is mine.
I stop, my eyes hot with tears and something inside ached and grieved and cried out loud.

Cuba sampai jadi.

I am offered some delicious cake, and I knew I wanted more.
The lady looked at me, smiled, and put another slice on mine.
I asked, "But why?"
She said, "You have a good Heart, but its specked with some black dots. Keep at it."

Everyone needs a little push.

Menial Labour

Break it to pieces and wash away the dust that remains, watch and observe and the stains will grow and soon, too soon, it is dirty and it clumps as before. Carefully now, repeat, break and wash, and ever more it will seem to be forever. But the consequence of fatigue from the never-ending task is the likelihood of an end, an end that is far better than the consequence of letting the dirt amass into the mountain within, that it blocks out the light of light, and that we stand in the darkness, wishing for light when we know that we are the reason for our own faults and failures. Think and rethink, the sore heart and the crushed fantasies will give rise to the clean crystal place, 

fit for the King.

I will tell you, on another day.

From table to table

Herein lies the story of a lady we met by the name of Mary-Anne.

I have seen her before, many a times with her tired eyes, yet the glint of her smile always reaching to them, a distance never too far. She would smile, and with her merry voice, so identifiable with the Eurasian tilt, not begging but rather, simply greeting strangers, strangers she meet everyday, strangers that she meets once, twice and sometimes, every week. I am one of those strangers where strangeness is not part of my company.

Once again, the hour is late, the lights seemingly too bright and laughter is plenty. I am always with friends. Once again, I see Mary-Anne and yet, she seemed different this time. Ask me not what it is, for all I know is that something was. She passes by a table beside ours, and naturally, she leaves empty-handed, yet her exuberant smile and gratitude still lingered on her wrinkled brown face. Her hair was as I remembered, mostly white except for the edges of a few strands, and infinitely curly. She looks around, as she always does. This is what she does everyday, her eyes hovering across the multiple faces smiling and laughing, deep in conversation or simply gazing into space. I can only wonder what goes through her mind as she sees these young faces, juxtaposed to her aching knees, her shoulders sore from slinging her bag all day and night. 

She looked especially tired, her usual spark seemingly fizzled and I called out to her. Oh the look she has when someone acknowledges her. It is the simple joy of knowing familiarity in a crowd of many. I smiled as she did, and I tried my best to covertly hand her what my hand, heart and mind can offer without having any form of expectancy. A small portion of sincerity that only a beggar can offer. In the small gestures of passing from one hand to another, a subtle tenuous bond is formed between one and another, a softening of the heart. This is why there is a saying, "Charity is not an obligation, it is a privilege." I smiled at her, sincerity bleeding out like an open wound and quickly motioned for her to keep whatever she has. She quickly snapped, "I have my dignity to keep!" We laughed. My eyes glaze over and I feel a deep melancholy forming within. We smiled. We exchanged a few words, and I told her how I remembered a time when I saw her fighting with another over at Simpang and she laughed, but it was quickly extinguished as she tasted the sour and bitter memory of having been hit. 

Without letting any further thoughts cause any hesitation, I invited her to have a seat. No one tells a story while standing - except for preachers. No, she was no preacher, she simply wanted to share, and never intended any of her stories to have any didactic value, merely a nice story to tell. No one shares a table with me that they have no drink or no food, and I offered her a drink, and asked what would she like. "Hot teh-o with lemon please," accepting my offer graciously, oh would life have been simpler if more people in the world had such graciousness. Then again, she was no ordinary person. 

Herein lies the story of a lady we met by the name of Mary-Anne.

Salutations

In the shambles of twilight late upon the hour,

we travel in the darkness, in solitude,

to ascend up among the stars,

that lower themselves not for anyone,

and awaits patiently for those willing to climb.

Sometimes I don't understand what I am reading/seeing/listening, and yet it can evoke an emotional response that I have no control over. Then I wonder, which part of me, if not my conscious and functioning mind that understands what is happening, that I can have a response over something that I clearly do not comprehend logically. Some people live their lives fundamentally built upon the scaffolds that are facts, conjecture and logic. I admit, to a large extent, I am one of these people. Yet, as I go through life and learn from the snippets of conversations I listen to, the enlightening texts that I stumble upon and the humbling scenes that I witness, my understanding of the world is being challenged. No, not challenged, augmented. Now comes an added dimension that I have not seen before, a level of reality and understanding slightly beyond my complete grasp and yet it is evidently there. And the strangest part of them all is that the more I acknowledge it, consider it in my everyday thought, decision and action, my hold on logic seems to be loosening and there comes a... feeling of ease and letting go, relenting to the force that be, the force that determines the rising and setting of the sun, the orbit of the Earth, the duration and amount of rain that pours, the beating of my very own heart and every other thing in this whole universe that despite the lack of human intervention, control and understanding, goes by so perfectly without a flaw or incident. In this realization do I understand my place and my power (or lack thereof) and with it, comes a calmness that sets deep into my soul that in everything I do, there is something that controls the outcome, and that if it can control and manage the intricate dance of astronomical bodies in the Universe, then the being of one individual is of no burden and no hassle in managing. There is no need for worry, unnecessary and burdensome worry, I bid you goodbye.

Lub Dub

I stand upon carpeted ground, upright, still, solid and soft.

Yet when I look down, it is not upon them do my eyes lay on.

They look down to mimic the heart who can only gaze down.

____________________________

There is a piece of flesh in the body, if it becomes good, the whole body becomes good, but if it becomes spoilt, the whole body gets spoilt, and that is the Qalb (Heart).

Oh elusive Heart, you are like a ruler that rules from behind the shadows, I see not your countenance nor know not your nature. You pull at my limbs like string to a puppet and your desires resonate with command.

I seek You, and yet You remain elusive. Like the first rays of dawn, I can only wait for You and any pursuit will be to no avail yet surely I know You will make known yourself to me, in time when I am ready to do so.

____________________________

Care

You never truly love a person, until you know them.

Strange how this concept is actually meant for the self, and not for others. Before you can even love another person, question yourself, where is this love from, who is this person giving this love of theirs, and why to this person, and not to another? Until we do so, we are but a shadow of our selves, incomplete and not understood. What a painful reality we relent ourselves to. Until we do so, our actions, our deeds, they have no constancy in them, no guiding principle that can be connected to our self. I guess in our youthful years, with so much on our plates, each demanding a portion of our limited attention, how can we even muster enough to find our selves. 

Priorities.

A friend asked, "Are we like a leaf, eventually turning brown and crumbling?"

"All that live must die," my friend.

Ambrosia

A man is walking through a vast desert, his throat parched, thirst driving him to the limits of his consciousness and the horizon as expansive as the night that never seems to come.

He meets a man who is holding with him a white amphora, its contents promising a relief from the thirst riddling his body and mind.

Give the thirsty man the amphora and he will drink to his death, uncontrollable thirst compelling his actions that will ultimately lead to his own demise - one that even the desert for its scorching heat was unable to.

Give the thirsty man the ambrosia drop by drop, first to wet his tongue, to let it soak and bring him back from the edges of sanity, slowly so as to ensure that he is able to down the amphora properly, slowly.

_________________________________________________

In a wide white desert, I walk, not knowing left from right, front from back, the endless horizon and the midnight sun hanging above. And I continued walking, not tired or thirsty, simply walking with no direction, I find a small blue pool of water. Curious. A pool in a desert. I wash my face, then my arms, and yet the water never seemed any less. Curious. I stepped into the small blue pool of water and find myself plunged into a ocean of calming blue,

 reinvigorated and alive.

What I thought was a small pool, only to discover in it an endless ocean.

_________________________________________________

There resides a certain silence within my self, a silence where no echo reverberates from, it is vast and cold and yet I see no source nor place for it to reside, yet it does so, firmly entrenched in my being, numbing me.

This is most puzzling.

Leafy conversations

Sometimes, I look at nature and I envy Her.

They live their lives with the knowledge of their purpose, dutifully doing what they have been set out to do in this world. They do what they must, no qualms or objections, they simply do. Then I look at myself and wonder, have I found what my purpose is, and if so, have I done it? Many a time I have come to the conclusion that I have not, and I question myself, searching for a reason for my unavailing efforts or lack thereof.

Purpose gives an existence meaning.

My thoughts are addled with a sleepiness and fatigue and yet there is still much to be done, so much.

Everyday is a crusade against my self.

In each passing moment, a trial for my body, mind and soul, and verily the results have been varied.

We are swept away by the incessant pounding waves,

drifting us further and further, losing sight of the shore.

Invisible forces tug at our legs and tie them down,

inescapable without forced, unfelt and unseen.

We think ourselves motionless, and yet we drift further away,

question your knowledge! What do you really know?

Wake up from this sleepless dream and cast away the veil,

break free of the ties that bind, ties that keep you, break free!

Take hold of your self, no more shall you be swept away, far away.

Swim against the tides and swim away from those keeping you.

Swim alone, struggle and only then will you find shore.

Sighs

To see a World in a Grain of Sand,

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand,

And Eternity in an hour.

-Fragments from Auguries of Innocence.

2:216

Fighting has been enjoined upon you while it is hateful to you. But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you; and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for you. And Allah Knows, while you know not.

Height

This world, Dunya, 

is but a temporary abode.

This world, Dunya, 

is but a lowly existence.

Take not that which is temporary, which is lowly, and elevate it to the status of 

the ever-lasting, the high.

For verily, if you do, you are lowly than that which is already very low.

Of which, we are not.

Porcelain

I am constantly failing, over and over again,
committing mistakes, the same ones,

                                                            different ones, 

it doesn't matter.

Tumbling around in the dark, as if I do know where to go.

Is it ignorance or a truly thick-headed skull, that stops me from walking?

The simplest, slowest, minutest step forward is better than this.

Instead, I am walking backwards, sideways, losing my way.

Failing in every aspect, every test that I meet along my way.

___________________________________

Having the chance to fail, that in itself is an opportunity to learn, is it not?

Failure shows mistakes and mistakes show areas for improvement. Yes.

What can I do but still tumble on, in hopes that I will find my way again.

Knowing I have failed doesn't change the fact, changing it changes it.

___________________________________

The value is being lost is that once you've found your way, you won't be lost any more.

Never ever give up.

Water

No words can express,
the toiling Heart and the clockwork Mind,
and their attempts at unravelling the world when it stills.

Sighs and quiet times,
Smiles of relief and joy amidst tears,
The hour is nigh for reflections, perfect for all them feels.
____________________________________________

When you look at yourself, your deeds, your values, your morals, late at night with no other voice telling you otherwise, then you see for yourself for who you truly are, every good and every bad. Every flaw, from the microscopic to the gigantic, put on exhibition for your observation and realization.

There is dirt, everywhere.

Walking alone in the darkness, I am lost and seeking my way, searching for Light.
The surrounding darkness imposes no presence, it is merely a background, a natural condition of the world and of the Heart. The inclination we all have toward the bad that makes it so accessible and easy to fall for. In the pool of water that follow, the streaming tears that trickle down, wash and cleanse yourself, be at ease.

Heartbeat

The Key to open all and one door.

There is a growing apathy that ferments in the heart,

born not out of hatred, anger or sadness, but instead

born out of a dilution of meaning and significance of the present.

_______________________________

Sound of Silence
Simon & Garfunkel

Hello darkness, my old friend

I've come to talk with you again

Because a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

'Neath the halo of a street lamp

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night

And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw

Ten thousand people, maybe more

People talking without speaking

People hearing without listening

People writing songs that voices never share

And no one dared

Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools", said I, "You do not know

Silence like a cancer grows

Hear my words that I might teach you

Take my arms that I might reach you"

But my words, like silent raindrops fell

And echoed

In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed

To the neon god they made

And the sign flashed out its warning

In the words that it was forming

And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls

And tenement halls"

And whispered in the sounds of silence

Swirl

Fire and water don't go together,
Light and Dark can never see each other,
yet, strangely sadness swirls with anger.

Oh cup, to the brim you have been filled,
I fear that if I don't tip you over I'll never be able to use you again. Let out your contents, the mix of colours and solutions, they don't settle well swirling, hurricane in a cup. Trickle away silently if you may, but if you gush out thunderous, no fault is there.

Wants and Desires

What do we need and what do we want?

In so many instances, the two are confused for each other, and it results in a problem that we, being the one involved, are unable to wade through and solve. What we want, we feel we need, what we need, we know we need, hence you see the problem. We always feel that we need something. Surely, this is not true.

Pause.

That is what we need, a moment to consider and weigh, and feel and think. Pause is what many people overlook because it is a natural instinct that kicks in; to desire greatly for something to the point of needing it.

It is a simple, but core problem that we have, that I have. How then can I distinguish between the two?

As most elegant solutions, they are hardly simple, involving layers upon layers of understanding, layers that are woven and inter-dependent on each other that it is absurd to accept one without another. Personally, it boils down to a matter of necessity, simply put. If that thing is necessary for me, I will need it, if it is not, then it is merely a want. Therein lies another problem, what is necessary?

Humans have unlimited desires and limited resources, an economic problem that bases its foundations on the social aspect of Humans being such. Personally, something is necessary if it is essential to my well-being. Essential carries with it the implication that it is good for me, that it is beneficial for me, as per the first assumption and that is tied to my well-being so closely that it is vital.

Take a look at our lives, how many of our desires are beneficial and essential? Very few.

It is really sobering when I take a Pause and question my instincts and thoughts, and I emerge with the conclusion that it was merely a want, a desire. Something in there is not working properly, something in there is pointing the wrong directions and asking for the wrong things.

Something needs fixing.

Peace

The leaves spoke to me and I spoke to them,
and we shared similar sentiments.

The wind waved in my direction, mentioning what was on my mind,
and I smiled and thank her for the reminder.

A sensation of peace and contentment enveloped me,
and I literally swayed in my steps, smiling like a fool.

The Heart is in constant flux, ever changing, sought after,
but after a while, it stops and it simply remains.

______________________

I wrote this very many months ago;

It lies in tranquillity, the storm of days past gone.
It sways to the Whisper of the Wind, a soft blowing breeze.
It rests in a pool of Light, a soft enlightening Illumination.

When the storms raged and sought to ravage, it clung on.
When the winds howled with ferocity, it shut it out.
When the darkness swallowed and blinded, it sought Light.

Its current state comes not by chance, but by effort.
Effort comes not without direction, but with a purpose.
Purpose comes not without understanding, but with knowledge.
Knowledge comes not without invitation, but with enlightenment.
Enlightenment comes not to those that are unworthy, but only to the Pure.

Alhamdulillah
______________________

It is the quietest of battles, fought so silently,
yet the spoils of war have no end, to the victor is eternity.

Knowing

It really is an existential question, to really assimilate the essence and meaning of the Testimony.

I testify that there is no god but Allah,

and that Muhammad is His Messenger.

HOW? 

How can I even begin to capture the meaning of this Testimony that I make every single day, every single hour, every single moment that I prostrate myself to Him, when I have no knowledge of Him, no semblance of intimacy to One I am supposed to testify with

Knowledge
Certainty
Sincerity
Truthfulness
Contentment
Submission [to duties]
and Acceptance

that there is none other than Him.

The importance of knowledge and knowing cannot be further reiterated.

Alas, Knowledge comes as He wills, not at the mere demands of a servant to his Master, 

and with great patience, care and perseverance, it will come, for He is Most Fair.

He who knows himself, knows his Lord.

Gifts

Random thoughts and sporadic epiphanies.

A gift, is considered a gift simply because it is given.
A gift, is given, when it is intended, with full knowledge.
A gift, is intended to be of benefit and goodness.
A gift, is to be valued, appreciated and treasured.
A gift, is sincere.

And what do we do when we receive gifts?

We say "Thank You."

If we do not know how to use the gift, we learn, because appreciation is not the same as value.
Appreciation is liking something for what it seems, and being thankful for its mere receipt or appearance.
Value comes from knowing what it means, what it is intended for, and learning how to use it as intended.

Vengeance

It is a horrible feeling when people pin their hopes and expectations on you, or when circumstances seem to indicate that you are supposed to be this and that, and yet, you seem to just not hit the mark, and people point it out to you - how you're not this and that, and that you're supposed to be this and that, and you just feel really horrible, as if YOU wanted people to think of you that way, or whatsoever, which you're not.

I get it, 

I am not smart, 

or intelligent, 

or emotionally-sensitive, 

or sensitive, 

or wise, 

or considerate,

like how I am supposed to be.

I am just fortunate,

to be who I am,
to have what I have,
to do what I do,

and true enough, every remark can be viewed positively, each a critique of your character and ability, and should ideally be viewed positively, as points of improvement. But really, sometimes it hits home and you just feel horribly incompetent as a human being, as if all my actions are for naught, that they are unwanted, or worse, that they are wrong and that all my efforts to be a better human being is seemingly to no avail and I am still that horrid human being that you have always painted me to be. 

Of course I have no desire to tell you of my desires and efforts to improve myself, but really, something must be evidently wrong to be reminded over and over again of my incompetence. It really is a wonderful feeling, its light at the beginning, and you feel normal, then it hits you and you sink faster than the Titanic. Wonderful.

Silence

It has been some time since I last experienced this deafening silence that wraps around me.
Sounds that are normally heard suddenly become overwhelmingly loud noises when it breaks the silence.
Things seem further than where they really are and things become smaller and bigger than they seem.
The beat of my heart is felt pulsating behind my eyes and my head feels dizzy with all this noise.
But what is worse than the noise is the concrete silence that follows, so loud it clouds my thinking.
It thumps against my head and the voice inside seems so loud, desperate to quell this intimate torture.

This is the stuff of nightmares.
Always. Always.

Detergent

There are times when I blink, half-expecting things to change within that fraction of a second.

Moments when the veil of illusion cast upon this world is lifted and I sway, heady.

My heart would grow heavy, not with sadness but with longing.

Something is trembling inside, albeit not of fear.

I do not know how to describe it.

Times of remembrance.

I breath a sigh.

Life.

-

It is a scary feeling when I catch myself forgetting.

When I am caught in some moment, too much in some place.

My heart would grow weak in my chest, almost lost.

Syukur Alhamdulillah for all that He has given.

There is nothing I seek but to always be in remembrance.

Alas, that is a goal I am still and always will be aspiring to.

-

We know ourselves better than we let others, definitely.

Our shortcomings, our failures, the wrecks tucked away in time.

Our pride, our ego, our desires and our hopes, rolling thunder.

Enough is enough, till when will I live so carelessly? Ungrateful.

Ever on will I crawl, walk and run toward the Light, no matter.

For the time He has given, I will make do with what I have.

This Heart needs cleansing, only then will it be worthy.

-

InsyAllah

God-Willing

Untitled.

WHO are we?

My position in the face of this question, is that our identity, as an immediate response to who, is defined ironically not by a name, but rather, by a set of behaviours that we as individuals display and manifest.

But before we tackle the question of 'who', I believe we must first answer the question of 'WHAT are we?'. What we are, are simply people, a collection of individuals.

As individuals, we are first recognized by our names, words that are intimately connected to our identity, words that somehow bring to mind the second thing, our traits. Secondly, we are then identified through our physical traits, our skin colour, our height, our face and etcetera. Thirdly, we then known by our actions, our behaviours and our personalities. These are things that a result of an investment in time, time spent growing up and experiencing life and they are only observed in time, by others around us. So there is a binding characteristic, that is it involves an investment of time, and dichotomously, the self. These are the ways that we are identified as individuals in the real world, in the physical world.

However, what we must consider is the fact that due to advances in technology and the sheer ubiquity of social media and technology brought about by the 'intelligent island initiative' - which aims that I quote as written by Alwyn Lim  "in about 15 years, virtually every home, office, school and factory will be interconnected through computers", we now have a separate reality, the virtual reality where it houses our digital self or virtual identity.

As Dr Connor had written in his paper, 'Introduction to the Special Issue on the Death, Afterlife and Immortality of Bodies and Data', there is a digital self or virtual identity that is 'a kind of metaphor for the physical body'.What this means is that the digital self is a reflection of the physical self. But this does not necessarily abide by the series of recognition process that we have for our physical self. In virtual reality, we can have whatever name we can think of, and our physical traits can be as however we want it, as similar OR as different from our physical self. Remember how upon his death or toading, Mr Bungle the cyberspace rapist had returned as Dr Jest. This is an example of how the significance of names are diminished (not entirely gone) in virtual reality as it is not necessarily permanent or as strongly bound to you as an individual. Thus, what remains is the last form of identification; that is our actions, behaviours and personalities that we have as individuals, which for MOST cases, are transferred to our digital selves and manifest as how we carry ourselves in virtual reality.

Alas, there are always exceptions with 'who', and it comes in the form of the freedom of expression that is afforded by the access to virtual reality. Some people are simply not to who they seem to be on virtual reality, merely because they can. And sometimes because they just want to fool around.

Just as how the title of my position statement 'Untitled' held little significance, only upon discovering the contents do you recognize it for its virtues.

Thank you.

Sugar

I have always prided myself in having a good memory,

the ability to recall accurately, quickly and at will.

As I experience life and my memory is constantly used,
I unconsciously remember sporadic details of conversations, places and things.

The memories that I bear, so many in my mind,
each attached with an emotion, a sensation, an event, a conversation and a person.

What ever shall I do with so many memories,
so many emotions, sentiments, opinions and thoughts?

I take each of them, every piece attached to them,
wrap them up nicely, write a sweet note and let it fly in my mind.

And as such, they exist freely in my mind as birds,
at times, they land and feed me their contents, and I remember.

They let me taste so vividly their contents,
of lives led, of emotions felt, of thoughts thought.

And then they fly away, to return another time.

Full

We know for ourselves where our flaws lie, 

Where we fall deep into the trenches of failure,

I aspire to be like a circle,

full and complete, perfect.

It will take years, definitely,

years upon years, for sure,

years to prepare and clean,

years to learn and relearn,

years to practice and perfect,

years to wander and wonder,

Solace

And We will surely test you with something of fear and hunger and a loss of wealth and lives and fruits, but give good tidings to the patient,

2:155

Sometimes the chill of the wind gets to me, a simple breeze becoming a cold touch to the bone. 

Sometimes the sound of silence pierces the air, empty space becoming suffocatingly thick.

Sometimes the murmuring of throngs of people distort, becoming an incessant and pervasive background noise.

Sensations swarm my being.

Then I remember the bright sun that is ever-present; shining in the sky, or above and behind the clouds.

Then I remember the peace that is inevitably a part of silence, peace laying calmly, for those who seek it.

Then I remember the liveliness and blessing of having people around, their presence a mild anaesthetic.

________________

All I had to do was look for it.

And it will unfailingly* be there, 

the better side of things.

All I have to do is be patient, Yes.

unfailingly

  

un·fail·ing

  [uhn-fey-ling]  Show IPA

adjective

1.

not failing; not giving way; not falling short of expectation; 

Music and Art

If I could paint my thoughts,
visualize them into shapes and colours,
it would be a whirlwind of ribbons and shreds,
an elegant weave of streams and sharp turns,
a splash of colours - dark and alive,
something to behold.

And thus we see,

the lapping of the waves,

the push and pull between the two,

the pendulous dichotomy,

of heart and mind.

If I could articulate my heart,

now, that is a different story entirely.

A constant thrum, of beats and rhythms.

It is speckled with change, expected,

but the tune, it never changes.

Winding

When the force of water in a river is insufficient to mould the land according to the intended direction of the water, the water is forced, no, the water simply changes its path, and moves on in its intended direction, forward.

This causes the meandering characteristic of a river.

A river faces obstruction, inconsistencies in its path that it does not agree with, and as a result, it changes direction, and then, it will face even more, and so this process repeats itself, and all this why, the river is simply intending to go upon the straight path.

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

Sounds familiar doesn't it?

In our lives, we have an intended direction, we move towards a goal, we work towards it.

We carry along with us the lives of others, our burdens and theirs, sediments in our lives.

Some, we deposit them along the way, for others, they stay with us, following along.

Now and then, we face obstacles that seem insurmountable and it forces us to reconsider our path.

We are only human, and sometimes, some things are just beyond us, it is perfectly human.

However, we must always remember our original destination, and revert back it, unforgettable.

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

Sometimes, 

I tire of the whims of others, and wish I can simply be a lone.

Potent

Peace.

That is all I am seeking right now.

Peace with the world, Peace with the people around me, Peace with the choices I have made,
Peace with how the choices have resulted, Peace with where I am in life, and Peace with Him.

I realize that unhappiness, or simply negative emotions, are tied to our disagreement with current circumstances. When someone disagrees with you, or scolds you for your actions, you get angry, when things do not go your way or something unexpectedly bad happens, you get sad, and when someone fails you, or you fail yourself, you get disappointed. Notice the trend?

So,

I have been trying to accept my predicaments as they come. Sure, things may not come in my favour, but who am I to change what is already given? All we can do is change our attitude towards it. Easier said than done, honestly.

My results aren't that spectacular, people including myself are disappointed. Stare at it hard, examine and dissect, accept and move on. That is all I can do.

Things are not happening as I wanted them to, that is Life, what is done is done, swallow hard and move on.

What I mean when I say to make Peace with the various external forces in play in one's life, is to accept, not to repel their very existence. Its okay to feel sad, angry or disappointed, but the most important thing is to realize that everything, everything has a reason, and that is reason lies in you. Accept.

All I ask is for the strength to accept, and make Peace with the world.