Tag Archives: family

Love That Only Aunts Seem To Have

Mak Andak 2Lawa. I took a picture of my aunt Mak Andak and was checking it in the camera screen. “Lawa (pretty)!” I thought out loud (I flatter myself that I have the ‘eye’. And only after one week of owning a compact). Mak Andak, who was with me, noticed my preoccupation and asked, “Apa yang lawa tu (What is so pretty)?” I explained that it was a picture of her. She smiled and said, “Kalau gambar Mak Andak lawa, nak tengok la (If my picture is pretty, I want to see it)!”

Sight. So I handed her the camera, and she looked into the small back screen. But no matter how she turned and angled the camera, no matter how close she peered, I saw that she couldn’t actually see the picture clearly. “Mak Andak tak boleh nampak la (I cannot see it).” With a grin of resignation, she passed the camera back to me.

You Still Are. When we are not able to see or hear as well as we used to… When doubt assails us, when weariness ails us, it is good if we have lived  a full and generous life, so that people might remind us, “You were wonderful.  and you know what? …You still are.”

Don’t you agree, sunshine?

Aunts. May all our old aunts continue to grin and bear life with such fortitude that has carried them through and had carried us along with such love and affection that only aunts seem to have. They are not grumpy, you know. They just live life passionately!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way

Kuntum, Family, Separation and Love

Slide5Family. We are surrounded by our family. They may make trenchant remarks and unsympathetic observations about our lifestyle, diet and exercise regime. But we wouldn’t want to change one atom of who they are, be they our father or mother, our brother or sister, or even our aunts, uncles, cousins  or pets twice removed.

My brother. Our family are simply who they are. And they have accepted us as who we are. It is only good Adab (manners) that we likewise, accept them whatever their perceived foible. I learn this lesson at the crucible of death, with the untimely passing of my brother, Saiful Bahri a.k.a. Poone, also known to me as Abang Chik, almost 2 years ago.

Abang ChikSeptember 14th, 2013. He died in my arms that night, and instinctively I knew as he breathed his last, that a big part of me has suddenly left this physical world to return to our Lord All-Loving. Good for my brother, but by God how I miss him still. For though we are different physically and even emotionally, I am still a part of him as he is a part of me. He is my first master, you see, before I even knew what the word meant for a salica (seeker).

That is what happens when our kin or friend leaves us, sunshine. We know that we love them. But how much we love them? …Only God knows. And it is often only separation that makes us realise the depth of our love, and in consequence, our sorrowful loss.

Of course, I am happy for my brother certainly, and that everything happens as God wills and plans it to happen. But I cannot deny that I miss him still.

You understand me, don’t you, sunshine?

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way

The Play

800px-r-staines-malvolio-shakespeare-twelfth-nightThe Play
What is reality
But a reflection
In His pool,

What is life
But a sigh,
A moment when
He gives the sign
And says, “I love thee.”

What is death
But the end of a play,
And the unmasking
Of an actor
Temporarily animating
A vessel of clay and water.

I asked my son, Mikhail, how was his exam today. To which he replied glumly, “Okay.

Okay?” I responded.

Almost in a whisper he confirmed this, “Yess… Okay, okay.

Oh you mean, OkaaaaAAAY…!!” I said, teasing him.

No, no, Papa.” Mika clarified, carefully losing the exuberance in the word. “Just… okay.“, Then he continued, “I don’t want to raise hopes, Papa.

I smiled at his wariness, then I explained, “I am afraid that is impossible, Mika. The moment you were born, you raised our hopes.

Mika and Me 1Thus you see, it doesn’t really matter how fleeting our life here may be. Nor how illusory is the reality we inhabit in our costume of water and clay. As a father or a mother, as a son or a daughter, we are all inexorably linked to Hope – upon the assurance of the Loving Lord God. So until next time, sunshine, may we play our roles as best we can, remember our lines and don’t bump into the furniture.

Oh, my child!
My hope was dead,
Then it was rekindled
When the Lord raised you
From my grave,

Yet I have nothing to give you, my child…

But the Lord?

Without end
He gives and gives and gives!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way