Been So Long

Assalamu'alaikum Dear All.

Indeed.

It has been so long.

I was triggered.

To check a weblink.

That I kept here.

Found it.

And I lingered.

I saw that most have left.

Their 'houses'.

Since years.

Some are no longer accessible.

I miss them.

IbuSham. MakPiah. Blu4Sky.

Sad.

Last link. Khairul Abdullah.

His last post yesterday.

Alhamdulillah.

The virtual world still has its bridge.

Presence

Assalamu'alaikum.

The deadened heart is that which no longer has presence.

Vanity needs mirror.

Arrogance needs another person.

To get out of delusional state we utter
everything in every instances.

We must learn how to respond appropriately.

Tribulation sabr patient.
Blessing gratitude reminder to pull you back.

To be a conscious human being created at the door of infinity - the death.
All the roads lead to death but only one leads to good death.
And thats' the way of Ihsan.

The concept of the wayfarer.

People of stillness. People of presence.
The response to fanaticism and zealotry is sakinah. This is Allah's gift. And the heart should be opened.

God is closer to us than our own consiousness.

May Allah SWT give us taufiq and hidayah.
BarakaAllah feekum.

Memo: The above are notes I jotted directly for the blog, as I listened to a syarah that I have now forgotten by whom. I must have been distracted by something else. And the notes remain in draft since ages. I saw them as I was scrolling down the blog posts. And it touched my heart again. And as usual good moments are best shared. The notes are just keywords. I hope they make sense to the readers as they do to me. It's been a long time. Life remains complex. Allah SWT is our Protector and Helper.

The Search. Day 3

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Dari Allah Ta'ala kita datang. KepadaNya juga kita kembali. Syukur atas segala nikmat dan rahmatNya. Sabar atas segala dugaan. Semoga kehidupan yang singkat memberi manfa'at kepada yang lain.

Camelia Memory for Adik Yang Jauh.

Been away for awhile. Alhamdulillah. Syukur. Banyak. Successfully defended the Thesis. 15 May 2018.

Remembering friends who were with me. While burning the midnight oil.

Thank you. Dear Ibu Sham 

Thank you. Dear Blu4sky

Thank you. Dear Mak Piah

Blessed be to all.

~`~

The Search. Day 3. April 3 2018. Tuesday.

Let me talk about the hotel first. 

Somehow hotel and me work well together.

Hotel provides me with the space to quieten down. No clutters. No distractions. I could think better. And dream better.

From Farm Lodge Hotel we took a taxi to Newtown House Hotel. Hayling Island. A short hop away.
And closer to our destination. I asked the taxi man. Whether he lived in the island and was familiar with the area. No unfortunately not.

'It's okay. We will manage. Inshaa Allah'. I said to myself.

Newtown House Hotel. Image: Self.

A 1795 old building turned hotel.
Camelia blooming while some others were still in buds.

The front of the hotel may look compact and solitary.
In reality the hotel has a large area that includes spacious lawn for events especially weddings. Shown below is a model of the entire hotel complex. 

It was a beautiful day. Beautiful weather. When we arrived. Took one look at the camelia.

And I fell in love.

Camelia to welcome us.

We reached early. About 12.00 noon. Check-in was at 2:00 PM.

 It was kind of the reception to check us in early.

We had a family room. A beautiful comfy room. On the first floor overlooking the spacious lawn. All the three of us together.

Alhamdulillah. 

We discussed our next step. We decided to take a short nap, do our solat, and get a taxi to our Adik's address.

I was worried that Adik may no longer be at the address. 

But it was better to know than not knowing. So let's go and pay her a visit. I said to my sister HR and niece HZ.

~`~

By 5:00 PM we did our solat. Booked a taxi. And was ready to go. We were apprehensive. We made doa. I asked for Husband's doa.

As usual I was the quieter among us. I couldn't seem to express my thoughts and feelings verbally. I worry that I should not express my worry to them. I wanted us to be positive at all times. 

Always trusting Allah Ta'ala to help us.

The taxi arrived. And we moved.

~`~

I told our taxi man the address. All set. We moved on. 

The island was charming. Away from the beach. Farms abound. Old English houses. Narrow roads. Simultaneously rural and touristy.

I have checked on Google the location of the address. And slowly guided the Driver along the landmarks.

The houses were named. They had individual names. But no house number. So we asked our Driver to drive slowly so that we could read the house name on both the sides since we were not sure from which direction we were approaching. 

~`~

And then. We found it! The address. Hoping that it was also her house.
 Alhamdulillah.

The gate was open. To a spacious driveway. Our taxi entered. And I alighted.

I went to the front door. Gave the doorbell a push. Once. Pause. Twice. Pause. Three times. No answer.

My sister joined me. We went to the back. Gave the back door a knock. Again. Then again. No answer.

No one seemed to be in.

There was a large garage next to the driveway. Our thoughts were that their cars could be inside the garage.

Our taxi had another assignment and could not wait. Although we would have liked to return to the hotel with the same taxi.

We had explained to him our reason for being there. He wished us the best. He seemed to understand. For he was a stranger himself to the country. Coming all the way from Romania. To earn his living, driving taxi.

~`~

As the taxi moved away. We also moved out of the driveway, crossed the road and stood by the roadside thinking what to do next.

We did not want to be lingering by the house. Our appearance was certainly not local. And I would not want any unfortunate matters arising from our presence in the area.

London was currently on the news for 'hassling Muslims'. Some deaths had been mentioned. That was the reason our Muslim Taxi Drivers had been cautioning us about moving about in public.

With hijab on.

But as always. I trust that Allah Ta'ala will protect us. 

We just have to be careful and not to cause suspicious eyes who were watching us, I was pretty sure, from neighbouring windows, to worry.

My sister and my niece were very much into photo taking. And I had to stop them from doing it openly. Sometimes it was hard for them to understand my caution.

~`~

Standing and getting chilled. I said to my sister. Let me go and enquire from this front neighbour. They might be able to help us.

I left them both by the roadside. And walked gently. It's a long way to the front door. A long driveway. A handsome Mercedes parked along it. Another, less handsome I presume, because I couldn't remember what was it, was parked closer to the house.

 I could sense that I was being watched from the large living room window.

I reached the door. Gave a knock. No doorbell. Only a door knocker. Once. Twice. Thrice.

And waited.

Image: Google.

And then it opened. Alhamdulillah, said my heart.

And a senior gentleman appeared, with countenance quite official and professional. I apologised for disturbing him and introduced myself. I explained that I was looking for ..... (Adik and Husband) and was wondering whether they did indeed live in the house across the road. Yes indeed they were.

  He confirmed.

But they didn't appear to be home. I said. Yes, their cars were normally parked out and they appeared to be away since the past few days. The Gentleman explained. Oh okay thank you very much. I said. Not knowing what else to say. I bid goodbye. I had politely enquired whether he had any mobile contact to Adik or her Husband. To which he regretted to say none.

~`~

I went back to my Sister and Niece and informed them about the neighbour's confirmation, that we were indeed at the correct location.

We decided to go back to the hotel,  to return the next day. Suddenly I thought of leaving a small note of our presence through the neighbour. It would be for Adik to know that we were around and good for the neighbour who was seemingly wary of our intention.

I tore out the centre page from my small 'to do' notebook and wrote a short message. Carefully measuring my words against the apprehension of rejection. Nothing but our love and affection. And that we were presently at the hotel. And waiting. And our telephone numbers.

It was an open note. So that the neighbour could emphatise with us. And deliver the message to Adik or her Husband.

~`~

Slowly. I walked back to the Neighbour. And again. I knocked. I was feeling bad. For disturbing them the second time. 

He opened to my profuse apology. And requested him to pass on my small note to Adik or her Husband. I thanked him quickly and bid goodbye.

I walked quickly to my Sister and Niece and said to them let's move away from there. I did not want anyone to be bothered by us lingering around.

We walked away and reached a church nearby. Called a taxi to pick us up from its driveway.

A most helpful landmark.

~`~

As we settled back in the hotel we thanked Allah Ta'ala for this day. We finally found the address. I did sujud syukur.

Still in my heart I wondered whether we could meet our Adik.

Only Allah Ta'ala could calm my sad heart. 

Trusting Him to lead us to her. 

I informed my Husband. Our Mother. Of our progress. And sought their doa. 

A lot of doa.

That Adik might came over to visit us in the Hotel.

Camelia and Me. Penuh Syukur.

The Search. Day 2

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Southampton. 

April 2 morning from the window of my room. 

Grey Sky, Wet and Cold.

Sister HR and her daughter, my niece, HZ came up to my room. 

We had a light breakfast. 

And discussed our next step.

We came to the UK armed with only an address. Which I found online a few years back. It was a company's address.

But as I searched for more details I was convinced that it was also a house address.

And 

an online contact through an anonymous friend. That has not responded to sent messages for sometimes now.

We informed our Dear Mother of our every step. And we sought her and everybody's du'a. And kind strangers. 

~`~

Niece booked us a hotel online for our next stop.

This time we managed to get a family room. 

The three of us together.

We checked out and booked a taxi.

to 

Portsmouth

~`~

It was about 50 minutes journey. 

Our cab driver was a kind gentleman from Somalia. Who, after our prompting, talked about his life in Britain, his family in Somalia. A daughter in South Korea teaching English.

He talked about us being careful. Because some unfortunate incidents were happening to Muslims in London. He advised us to avoid walking in the street the next few days.

I explained that we were just going from hotel to hotel. 

By Taxi.

He said Inshaa Allah we would be fine.

As we reached our hotel, we sought his du'a. For safe journey and the accomplishment of our search.

~`~

Farmhouse Innlodge, Burfields Road, Portsmouth.

A cosy hotel and warm reception welcomed us.

I was still exhausted from the long flight and nauseating aftermath in the coach.

My sister and niece have been away since 16 March, to Sweden, Norway and the Netherlands. In a group tour hunting for Aurora, the Northern Lights, and emerging Tulips. Hence their arrival from Amsterdam to Southampton.

While I flew in direct from Kuala Lumpur because I had prior commitment.

~`~

We checked in and rested. We decided that we should move to a hotel closer to our destination. Unfortunately Niece has booked this hotel. Still some distance away. I preferred that we should locate ourselves in the locality of our destination. Thinking that local cab drivers would be familiar with the local landmarks and roads. And hoping that we would get to know some Muslim drivers who might even know the area.

Nevertheless, we decided to try to recover as much as we could in this hotel.

Later, ravenous, we booked a taxi and went for dinner at a Muslim restaurant a few miles away.

Again slept like a log till early morning for Fajar.

Watching golfers across the field braving the cold and grey morning.

Alhamdulillah.

For another day. Despite our apprehension. Closer to our destination.

The Search. Day 1

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Where do I begin.

Probably my most distinct memory of her.

The first day of Primary School.

Every child walked to and from school. 

Some distance away from our Ulu Village.

On the way back, walking with my other siblings, she fell and hit her brow on the gravel road. 

A slight scar right across her perfect right eyebrow. 

Was the only reminder of that fall.

My Sweet Little Sister.

Our Pearl

~`~

And years and years later.

Something happened.
No.
 Not just something.
A series of painful and traumatic incidents.

And our Pearl.

Left.

The country for good.

Never to be seen nor heard.

~`~

April 1 2018.

Destination: London

Mission: In Search of Our Lost Pearl.

Depart MH4

Kuala Lumpur-London Sunday 1 April 2018

09:50 Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KUL) Terminal M

16:35 London Heathrow (LHR) Terminal 4

Duration: 13h:45m

Airbus Industrie A350-900

Post flight Coach to the next destination booked.

Hotel booked.

~`~

I was slightly unwell. 

Packed with remedies from the Pharmacy I departed. 

I took a couple of Paracetamols to prepare for the takeoff and landing. 

Previous extremely painful experience during these two processes when I was sick has taught me well.

And prayers, zikr.  As Husband kept reminding me before departure.

~`~

It has been many years since I was in a West Midlands' University in the UK.

It did feel like another homecoming.

A nostalgia of sorts.

But most importantly. 

I was apprehensive whether I could accomplish what I intended to do.

For Our Dear Mother.

For our Lost Pearl.

For all of us. The family.

~`~

Alhamdulillah.

Reached London on time.  

Sleeping throughout most of the journey since I did not sleep a wink the night before.

And I am not too young anymore for this long haul flight.

After a long queue and plenty of immigration polite queries, I moved on.

A nephew and his family kindly received me. 

Nephew was Husband's Sister's Son.

Nephew sorted out my communication needs. And set me on my booked coach to my next destination.

Southampton.

Departure: Heathrow Airport (T4) Arrivals Forecourt

Sunday, April 1, 2018 7:15 PM

Arrival: Southampton Coach Stn, Harbour Parade,

Sunday, April 1, 2018 9:15 PM.

Another 2 hrs. On the National Express.

~`~

I am never the one for coaches or buses. Nausea is a big issue. Hence why favourite public transport is the train. It is my transport of choice since my residential school days, travelling up and down Seremban-Bukit Mertajam-Seremban.

Alhamdulillah.

Reached Southampton. Without major mishap despite my churning stomach

Consistently trying to suppress my cough throughout the 2 hr ride.

As we were disembarking a lady seated across me smiled.

'Get well soon'

She said. 

Immediately, I felt much better. Emotionally.

As I trudged in the cold drizzle towards a taxi a few steps away from the Coach Stn.

to

Ibis Southampton Centre

9 West Quay Road Western Esplanade, Bargate, Southampton.

and 

To join HR my sister and her daughter HZ who were already in the hotel.

The both of them flew in from Amsterdam earlier in the afternoon.

~`~

Alhamdulillah.

It was a short less than 10 minutes ride in the taxi. Checked in. Lugged my light luggage to the lift. Into the room. Messaged my sister HR that I was in, and bid goodnight. Would see them in the morning, I said.

It has been a long day. I fell asleep in my travel attire.

Ecology and Balance

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Warming up.

After a long break.

Let me start with some food for thought.

"One of my favorite memories of my childhood was my father helping me set up an aquarium. In retrospect, I understand that he was teaching me to think about a community of organisms and their interactions, interdependence, and the issue of keeping them in balance so that it would be a healthy community. That was just at the beginning of our looking at the natural world in terms of ecology and balance. Rather than itemizing what was there, I was learning to look at the relationships and not just separate things" (Mary Catherine Bateson)

(Source: https://www.edge.org/conversation/mary_catherine_bateson-how-to-be-a-systems-thinker?utm_source=pocket&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=pockethits)

Food Homeless Scholars Rulers

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Let me share

Shaykh Hamza Yusuf Hanson  in his Syarah (1) describes that our tradition has always been

Free education

Free treatment for the sick

Food for the poor and homeless

Shaykh Hamza describes the Prophet SAW gave food to the homeless daily. Whosoever gave food to him, in turn the Prophet SAW gave it to the homeless and the needy.

 On average the Prophet SAW gave food to about 70 homeless people per day. 

And among these homeless arose scholars and rulers. Examples. Abu Huraira (RA) was the scholar who recorded the Prophet SAW sayings.

Salman Al Farisi (RA) who became the Governor of Persia.

~:~

Thus Feeding the Poor and the Homeless. Daily. Is the Sunnah of the Prophet SAW.

Let's resolve

To give food  daily. At least to one person per day.

~:~

Alhamdulillah.

Reference:

(1) Syarah Tafseer Surah Yaseen Part 3.

~:~

~:~

And

It is also worth pondering our modern tradition on:

Education

 and

Treatment for the sick

Broken Vase

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

It is amazing what we pick as we listen to a good syarah.

We pick pearls that are closest to us.

The ones that have touched our real life.

Let me explain.

~:~

Shaykh Hamza Yusuf says:

Most exchanges are utilitarian.

We use people and we honour things

If we look at people, observe how carefully they move around things in their house.

For instance: 

People would be careful not to knock the vase in their house. 

But they have no problems bumping other people.

~:~

A long time ago.

I was on transit at the Karachi International Airport.

Went to the Ladies' Room.

I washed my hands and stood in front of the counter mirror to fix something.

A woman came in. A flight crew member.

There were a few other sinks. And long mirror.

She came straight to where I was standing and bumped me off so that she can use the mirror to fix her things.

I was shocked. Then angry. Speechless. Then quietly I left.

I told Husband who was in the waiting area.

Sabr.

~:~

In trying to understand the behaviour of the woman I had these "MAYBE's" as my heuristic tools:

MAYBE she thought I was just a maid. 

We were on PIA flight. In transit I remembered in Dubai I met a few ladies from Indonesia who served in the middle eastern households. 

This woman was a flight crew member so MAYBE she had different perceptions of how people are elevated in this creation.

MAYBE according to her, a flight crew member is more elevated than a household service provider.

MAYBE she had a philosophy of racial differentiation. 

Some natives are created better than others. South Asians are better than South East Asians. Whites are better than coloured and blacks. In look. In status.

MAYBE she had a philosophy of class differentiation.

Some people are low class. 

Some are of high class.

The feelings that one is of the brahmin class is prevalent in any society regardless of their espoused belief.

I was in Jubah. And in Niqab. Probably a low class attire to some.

That was  my heuristics of MAYBEs.

~:~

Yesterday. 

I found myself again with similar experience. With a South Asian during a transaction.

This time it was not physical bumping off. But an attitudinal bumping.

~:~

Alhamdulillah

I have learned to relax. I have learned how to take the bumps and humps. Slowly and steadily.

Just like when we drive over the humps on the road.

Smoothly. Without pain.

~:~

So when Shaykh Hamza Yusuf says:

We USE people and We HONOUR things. It strikes deep into my heart.

May Allah Ta'ala save us from this error. 

Ameen Ya Rabbal 'alameen.

~:~

Broken vases repaired with golden thread.

Compare with how people mend broken relationships.

The Wayfarer, The Skin and The Fruit

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I have been trying to sort out my thoughts on 'Managing Change'. We have an abundance of discourses from change theorists of the western tradition (See for example Lewin, Mintzberg, Burnes, Kotter, Fullan, West-Burnham).

Essentially change theorists discuss change in the context of these two processes:

The evolutionary Continuous Improvement versus The revolutionary Transformational Change. One starts from the status quo or the 'as-is' while the other is a complete re-engineering process.

~:~

Suddenly it occurs to me. 

That I have not looked into the Islamic worldview on managing change. After a short search I was led to this scholar that has had a lot of impact on both the east and the west.

Shaykh Bediuzzaman Said Nursi. And his treatise on social change.

Excerpt from: Here

~:~

Prof Colin Turner penned his thought in context with his discussion on Ustad Bediuzzaman Said Nursi' Risale-i Nur: A Revolution of Belief. 

"The created world is thus a book of names, an index, which seek to tell about its Owner"

Prof Dr Colin Turner

~:~

For Ustad Bediuzzaman Said Nursi:

"The West is not only a geopolitical entity, it is also a metaphor. Geographically, the West was the first place to witness a mass revolt against the Divine.

Modem Western civilization is the first of which we have knowledge that does not have some formal structure of religious belief at its heart.

 The West is thus a metaphor for the setting of the sun of religious belief; a metaphor for the eclipse of God. 

And since this eclipse is no longer confined to the geopolitical West, one may say that wherever the truths of belief have been discarded, there is the West.

Thus the West should be seen as a state of mind, a disease, an aberration. The root cause of this, as Bediuzzaman Said Nursi points out, is the disease of self-worship, of 'ENE' (Ana, the I or ego).

The kind of revolution envisaged by the Risale-i Nur is a revolution of the mind, of the heart, of the soul and the spirit. 

It is not an Islamic revolution but a revolution of belief. 

As such it works on two levels: it is designed to lead Muslims from belief by imitation to belief through investigation, and to lead unbelievers from worship of the self to worship of Allah."

~:~

The wayfarer is me.

That shiny beautiful skin is what I have learned of the metaphorical western worldview. 

But the fruit - the seeds- are what I need.

And how I peel the skin matters.

So is managing change.

~:~

A movie on the life of Ustad Bediuzzaman Said Nursi (1877-1960) shows the Ustad's struggle through the period when Turkey was moving into the western realm. When the country was transformed - clothed in the new garment of modernisation weaved by Mustafa Kemal Ataturk (died 1938) and his immediate successors.

Here

~:~

A short note on his life and legacy:

"Bediuzzaman Said Nursi was born in eastern part of Turkey in 1877.
He was a scholar of the highest standing having studied not only traditional religious sciences, but also modern science and technology.
Therefore he was titled Bediuzzaman; wonder of the Age in his youth as a result of his outstanding ability and learning.
Bediuzzaman died in 1960 at the age of 83 after struggle and self-sacrifice in the cause of Islam the big work and achievement done by Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, could be seen through His book Risale-i Nur collection about 5000 pages in which different subjects are cited.
In the first reading, it may seem as an exegesis of the Glorious Qur‟an but at the second and third reading it may be different. Aspects of some other branches of knowledge such as theology, psychology, history, philosophy, cosmology, economics, physics, medicine, law and technology will all prove an integral part of Risale-i Nur. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, considers Al-Iman (Faith) as his main goal in his writings, but what is faith?
How it can be seen as a foundation for human progress? In attempt to answer these questions, the concept of faith and progress should be first defined."

Access the original Paper*

Here

*Faith As The Foundation of Human Progress: Nursi’s Perspective (Dr. Vaffi Foday Sheriif)

Humaira and Falsafah

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Humaira is cucu of Mak Lang. 

Her first cucu.

She is six years old. 

Humaira calls Mak Lang Ninik. 

Mak Lang is my sister. So Humaira is also my cucu.

But she calls me Makmbong ... hehe.

~:~

Humaira and I were having a conversation.

But every now and then when I asked her about something she would answer: Tak tau.

After a few 'Tak Tau'. I said slowly to Humaira: Humaira tak tau ke (while putting my left hand up). Atau Humaira tak mau cakap (and putting my right hand up). Itu dua falsafah yang berbeza.

Humaira: Apa falsafah yang berbeza tu?

Makmbong: Falsafah tu maksudnya .. dalammmm sangat. 

Humaira: Apa dalammmm tu.

Makmbong: Kalau Humaira kata tak tau (my left hand up). Mak .. na .. nya Humaira memang tak tau. Te .. ta .. pi kalau Humaira kata tak mau cakap. Maknanya mungkin Humaira tau. Te ..ta .. pi Humaira tak mau cakap. 

Humaira: ohhh.

Makmbong: Jadi apa jawabnya tadi tu. Humaira tak tau ke (my left hand up again). Atau tak mau cakap (my right hand up).

Humaira: Tak mau cakap (and putting her corresponding hand in front of me up).

Makmbong: Humaira dah pandai falsafah. Boleh beza yang dalam-dalam.

Humaira: Falsafah (angguk-angguk :) ).

 ~:~

This is Humaira next to me in the car.

Kakak was driving me home from a night at Mak Lang's place.

I asked Humaira for her permission before taking her photo.

She put up her hands. Covered her face. And said No.

Kakak while driving interjected: Boleh. She is shy.

I said slowly to Humaira. In Bahasa Melayu:

No. I will not take Humaira's photo without Humaira's permission. Right Humaira?

Humaira nodded.

I added: Humaira sudah buat keputusan tidak mahu gambarnya diambil. Jadi Makmbong kena hormati keputusan Humaira. Betul Humaira?

Humaira nodded.

A few moments later: Humaira boleh Makmbong ambil gambar Humaira?

Humaira nodded.

Makmbong then took a selfie of Humaira. 

The Learning Philosopher. 

Deficit Thinking

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I received this book last October 6, 2017. I ordered it from Amazon. Flipped through it and left it among the piles of books since then.

Dismantling Contemporary Deficit Thinking (Valencia, 2010)

~:~

These last few days I was not at the laptop. 

I had bleeding in half of the right eye.  Looked very serious but no pain Alhamdulillah. I have been to the doctor earlier. And yesterday to an eye-specialist for follow-up, because the healing was looking not too good. Alhamdulillah. Not too worry. It would take a couple of weeks to resolve, the good doctor said.

~:~

Husband said. Stop the computer for a while.

I did. 

But picked up the book instead and have been digging into it for awhile.

~:~

Deficit thinking.

Let me illustrate its meaning through some real life examples.

Example 1: An engineering graduate is told by the HR director that she is not suitable for the post because the Agency wants a male. Ladies would not be able to fulfil their field duties when they are married and pregnant.

Example 2: Orang Asli students fail in school because they are poor, lazy, parents are not involved, attitude problem. So most research say. 

Example 3: Girls should not be encouraged to memorise the Quran Kareem because when they get married and be busied by their children they will not have the time to review. And they would forget.

No no no. I did not make the above up. You can read about it here.

An excerpt from the article ...

“… and that’s why women shouldn’t memorize the Quran.” What did he just say? I had just finished memorizing the Quran myself that year, so I sat up in my seat. “My sister memorized the Quran,” he continued, “but she’s been so busy with her newborn baby that she never has time to review it, and now she’s forgotten it all. So it’s better for women not to memorize because they won’t be able to retain it while raising children.” (Tesneem Alkiek)

~:~

Deficit thinking is a social construction that is flavoured by three contemporary discourses.

1. the genetic pathology model - the belief that we are naturally disadvantaged by who we are genetically ... being a female one cannot be as good an engineer, a black is less intelligent than a white (a prevalent implicit as well as explicit belief in the USA ... see JP Rushton for example) 

2. the culture of poverty model - the belief that failure is due to being poor. Students failure are linked to family's poverty.

3. the 'at-risk' model - the belief that some are culturally to be more at-risk to fail than others ... a married woman will have no time to review her memorisation of the Quran Kareem ... or when students are lumped into at-risk category because of who they are are.

~:~

The key idea is that deficit thinking gives rise to 'blame the victim' culture. 

It's your fault that you can't get the job because you are female.

It's your fault that you failed because your family is poor and can't afford tuition, and your parents are too busy eking out a living to teach you at home.

It's your fault that you risk failing because you speak 'Greek' at home, and you can't follow the lessons taught in the Martian language in class. 

~:~

This is more common than we think.

Think about the many incidents when we had this sudden inclination to blame the victims (the individuals themselves, their families, their culture, their language, etc.) for what have happened. 

Did our thinking process sound like any of the examples above?

Abah

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

16 September 2016

Abah

a year. and a bit more since.

and left are us

pebbles in the stream

rolling along

a destination not too long

we despair not

for we hear the news of fajar light

and its blessings

and here we are

bathe still

in the cool memory 

of life 

simply lived

Alhamdulillah. 

Allahummaghfirlahu warhamhu wa 'afihi wa' fu 'anhu

Would a monkey be less of a monkey

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Nice isn't it? Window seat with a view.

No it is not my room. I wish.

But 

I do have a corner room in our house in Kampung Ulu. Alhamdulillah.

The room is flanked by two windows on both the sides that can be opened just like the above. No iron grill. One can just jump in and out of the windows if one so wish.

We were in Kampung on Sunday, staying overnight. At night I closed the window but left the curtain drawn opened so that I could see the soothing night light and the moonlight beyond.

Right across the road up the slope, I could see the grey shadows of rubber trees.

~;~

In the morning I opened the windows wide. Then we went to Kuala Pilah to shop for Mother.

~;~

Meanwhile at home.

Brother-in-Law was in the living area. Suddenly he heard a commotion in the corner room. He rushed in to see. And lo and behold.

A family of monkeys were having a fanfare in the room. Jumping up and down on the bed.

Those were one amazing intruders.

Alhamdulillah. Brother-in-Law was quick. No mishap. Nothing was borrowed by the monkeys.

It was hilarious. 

But I was thankful that nothing was missing.

~;~

Would a monkey be less of a monkey if he is inside a house?

hehe.

Nujoom

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

By the sky containing the constellations (85:1)

Nujoom are the stars. Constellations are groups of stars.

Shaykh Hamza Yusuf (SHY) related a conversation he had with a pilot in the pilot's cabin during a flight over the USA.

SHY: If the instrument to indicate direction fail, no GPS no nothing, how would you find the direction.

Whereupon the pilot turned off all the lights in the cabin. In complete darkness SHY looked out to the sky flooded with stars. And the pilot said:

We still have the stars.

~;~

SHY said that the verses in Al Quran Kareem are like the stars. Those who delved into the Holy Quran will find guidance in it.

Much like the constellations of stars that provide guidance to earthly travellers, the Holy Quran provides guidance to spiritual travellers. 

~;~

In the end, Allah Ta'ala guides our path and our heart. The darkest time of the night is just before fajar. If we are patient, soon fajar breaks and darkness lightens. So never despair from the Grace of Allah Ta'ala. So give good news to people with patience.

May Allah Ta'ala have mercy on all my teachers. 

Real and Virtual. 

Ameen Ya Rabbal 'alameen.

Liza

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Today I will start to put into words the many memories of beautiful people that have touched this short life.

Yes. 

In retrospect it is truly a short life. 

Years have just gone by and there are not too much left I am sure.

~;~

Liza was my help bee. In Brunei Darussalam. 

She was a Filipino. She told me her mother was a Muslim from Mindanao. She came to Manila to work and married her father, a Catholic.

~;~

Liza lived in Bandar Seri Begawan, staying in a rented room along with her sister, brother-in-law and some female cousins. It was a small room. It looked very crowded to me. But I understood the main purpose for their being in Brunei was to earn and sending their earnings back to their families in the  Philippines. 

They were young and full of energy.

Liza came almost every Sunday to help me. She took the bus from Bandar Seri Begawan to Tutong where I lived. About forty minutes. By 8.00 AM she would be calling out to me to throw the house key from my bedroom window on the second floor to her.

She would let herself in. After asking about her welfare and showing what needed to be done I left her. She would then be busy as a bee. 

Hand washing all my clothes. 

She would only use the washing machine for heavy items. Towels. Bed sheets and pillow cases. Everything else by hand. And was she a fast bee. 

Then the vacuuming and mopping. 

It was a huge double storey house. The Government's provision. 

I lived alone. 

But I used every room and every corner for different purposes. 

Didn't they say that one should not leave any room or corner unattended, then something else would come and reside there. 

I had three radio/tapes running at various time through out the house. 1 upstairs in the family area (although I had no family then). 1 in the big living room downstairs. And 1 in the kitchen. I use them to listen to Quran recitals.  

Truth be told having Quran recitation where ever I was in the house gave me a lot of courage.

I love Liza. 

She kept every inch of the house clean and tidy.

Working through the house sincerely.

No instructions needed. She just knew what needed to be done. And did it extremely well

By 10 in the morning I would be down to prepare some heavy brunch for the both of us. We would miss lunch. Because by 4.00 PM I would be sending her back to Bandar Seri Begawan and I would give her early dinner on the way in Bandar. These were special treats for her.

I miss Liza. 

When I left Brunei she was the last person to meet me as I passed on my Passport to be checked before leaving the public lounge. She was late. And she was running. Calling me at the same time "Kak Hajjah, Kak Hajjah".

Just a minute or two more and we would have missed each other.

Those were not smartphone days. And  I was not much into photography. I don't have a photo of Liza. 

But I have a beautiful vision of her.