On My Son’s Birthday

On this, my son’s 2nd birthday, I pay tribute to the two most amazing women in my life: my mum and my wife. 

For it is in these 2 years that I have witnessed firsthand how much time, energy, money, sleep, blood, sweat and tears my wife has sacrificed for our son; the superhuman physical, mental and emotional strength she showed in caring for the child entrusted to us.

For it is in these 2 years that I thus found a newfound appreciation for my own mother, who I now realise went through all these caring for me before I was even able to bear witness.

For it is in these two years that I have found an understanding of the words of Allah when He said:

“And We have enjoined upon man [care] for his parents. His mother carried him, [increasing her] in weakness upon weakness, and his weaning is in two years. Be grateful to Me and to your parents; to Me is the [final] destination.”

[Surah Luqman:14]

Thank you so much, to mama/nana and yangku/mummy from myself and baby Mukhlis! 

We are truly blessed to have you both in our lives ❤️❤️❤️

Mukhlis

بسم الله الرحمان الرحيم

Alhamdulillah tsumma Alhamdulillah..

Seven days ago, an amazing blessing entered the lives of my wife and I in the form of a healthy, beautiful, baby boy - our first-born child :’D

وَإِنَّ لَكُمۡ فِي ٱلۡأَنۡعَٰمِ لَعِبۡرَةٗۖ نُّسۡقِيكُم مِّمَّا فِي بُطُونِهِۦ مِنۢ بَيۡنِ فَرۡثٖ وَدَمٖ لَّبَنًا خَالِصٗا سَآئِغٗا لِّلشَّٰرِبِينَ

“And indeed, for you in grazing livestock is a lesson. We give you drink from what is in their bellies -  between excretion and blood -  pure milk, palatable to drinkers.” [An-Nahl, 16:66]

Our child, you entered into this world as pure and sweet as fresh milk.

From your first seconds of life, your face shone with the glow of innocence. How do we put into words how much peace it gives us just gazing at you..?

Thus even in these first days of your life, your Creator has given us an ibrah (lesson) to contemplate: that there is peace to be found even in chaos, hope even in despair, love even in animosity.

What a precious lesson to take in this world you’ve been born into - one seemingly filled with corruption, foulness and hate.

Our child, let your name then be an illustration of that first beautiful lesson:

Mukhlis

- a word composed of the root letters “ل”،”خ” and “ص”; from which the words ikhlas (sincerity) and khalis (to be pure) are also derived.

Mummy and papa pray that you will grow up to be salih wa musleh - that you are in yourself good, and helps others to be good;

that you continue being a vessel through whom Allah continues giving us beautiful lessons and reminders;

that you will help us ourselves become more sincere and more pure;

that you will be a Mukhlis - one who is sincere, devoted and pure-hearted. 

Ameen..

Ice Cream

Many kids stared as I ate a cheap RM1 ice cream at a local shopping mall yesterday.

It reminded me of the time when I was that old and would do anything for the ability to have ice cream anytime I want. Of course, at that age I didn’t have the money nor the means to go to the ice cream shop as often as I wished.

Yesterday I realised how much I now take that freedom for granted - at this age I no longer appreciate the ability to buy ice cream so easily because I’m too busy chasing ‘more important’ things.

Such is human nature - as we grow older we are in a continuous chase for the ‘ice cream’ of that particular phase in life - good exam results, a job, a car, a house, a wife, a good retirement, a good place to die.

Perhaps, once in a while, we should just take the time to sit down and appreciate what we have instead of being constantly fixated on what we don’t just yet.

And hey, have some ice cream while you’re at it ✌🏻

[14:7]

I met a shrub who caught my eye, 

from the dull leafy hedge 

standing out shy; 

on her sprigs a sprinkle 

of small buds, pink

and on them

not a single leaf.

Has she made a timing error,

thinking spring is near;

and is then but a

beautiful mistake?

I don't know..but to me she 

seems to be saying:

"Hey..even 

in the winter chill,

in you is strength 

to put out flowers still" 

:)

[2:286]

Living in 

a washing machine;

in a cycle circular

faster and faster

until 

at the centre

is 

 just

   emptiness

Ya Allah, 

let the sun come out;

let not the cold harden my heart.

For the heart hardened aches,

for the heart hardened 

more easily breaks.

one can live several different lives concurrently;

while feeling in each and every one

lonely.

let not the loneliness be 

perpetual,

let not the loneliness be

spiritual.

[2:186] 

Does the heart want 

happiness, or familiarity? 

I think it yearns for the former

but finds contentment in the latter.

Maybe that's why a cloudy day is strangely comforting.. 🤔

(Until it starts raining lah. Then not happy, or comfortable)

Papa is a Tree

Pa, I remember you arriving home from work,

hands on hips, imitating the branches of a tree:

"Papa is a tree. 

Try and climb papa!"

Gleefully adik and I obliged, 

having never climbed a real tree,

racing to climb you like the city kids we are

(and having little regard for the health of your back 😅).

It has been nearly 15 years now since we last did that.

Those years have seen us kids 

grow up, leave school, fly overseas.

While you, Pa; 

our football coach, 

our chauffeur,

our best friend, 

have stayed our steady tree. 

I guess it can be tricky playing that role..

Being that steady over the years, 

it's easy to blend into the background -

people forgetting how important you are.

As you put out roots into yesterday, 

giving us steady support;

as you put out shoots into tomorrow, 

sheltering us from Life's elements;

as you put out flowers and fruits, 

nurturing those around you;

as you put out leaves green, red and brown, 

coloring our lives.

Trees, like everything, grow old

but they do develop a certain beauty with old age:

barks scarred and wrinkled with wisdom, 

leaves no longer growing thick,

revealing the empty nests of those city kids

who once lived on you, but

now live halfway across the world.

They remember still what you once said,

hands on hips, imitating the branches of a tree:

"Papa is a tree. 

Try and climb papa!"

Happy birthday, pa..

We love you! ❤️❤️😬😬

It's easy to look down on babies;

those chubby piles of blubber who don't seem to know how to do anything  

but eat, sleep, poop and cry

(and bite - yes, Dik, I'm referring to you.)

Yet babies are doing something many of us cannot claim to be doing:

Growing up - physically, mentally, emotionally. 

Because how many of us "grown ups" forget to do just that?

We forget to grow up, and merely grow old;

living our lives blindly from point A to point B,

from task to thoughtless task.

So perhaps it is from those chubby piles of blubber

who seem to know nothing

that we have to take a big lesson;

one that we all once knew 

but many of us have forgotten:

to be amazed with everything, 

to smile sincerely,

to learn readily.

To grow up.

Happy birthday, Dik :)

(And all the best for your test tomorrow. Don't bite anyone 😑)

Goodbye, Fikri

The airport took my housemate away today,

and so in this house I am now alone.

But I guess that's the nature of my course:

come 5th year you gotta start getting used to 

people entering and leaving Life at the hospital, and 

entering and leaving your life at the airport.

My discussion with Fikri yesterday was quite a deep one.

Over iftar we contemplated the temporality of this dunya,

and the basis of human relationships,

and indeed, how fleeting those relationships are 

if not fillah; for Allah.

On that basis, what we should aim for 

is to be with our loved ones forever

not in this dunya, but

in a good place in the hereafter.

Thanks for all the reminders, Fikri.

May we meet twice:

Once in this dunya, once in Jannah, biidznillah :')

Ameen..

(Now..back to the attic 😩)

P.s. ak balik tadi, hari cerah kot..siap gi jogging. Alhamdulillah doa ko termakbul haha. Make doa that the rest of my days will be sunny, til the day I go home to my family..ameen!

P.p.s. thx again bday present ak. Heart-warming..harap2 room-warming jgak winter nnt. 😝

P.p.p.s bajet macho gile muka ko dlm gamba2 ni

Birthday Book

To write a book has always been my dream - today it still is.

Then again, I already have written some books - 

if those books I wrote as a young child count:

books about the adventures of a hero in a made-up planet,

a book compiling random stories and tales of Pokemon.

And, then again,

maybe life itself is a book;

the first chapter written in words unseen

at the moment we draw our first breath,

or at the moment we start existing as a ball of cells,

or even when our parents first met.

If so then every birthday is a chapter

of a story which nobody knows how it will unfold, 

nor end;

the story of a hero in a made-up planet,

living out a compilation of random stories 

(and yeah, the odd Pokemon once in a while).

Perhaps, then, a birthday 

is a chance to take a pause.

To stop and reflect on how the story has panned out so far,

though it is so very tempting to rush to the next chapter.

Perhaps it is a chance to appreciate 

not just you, the hero of your story,

but also those 'minor' characters around you

who we too often disregard as 

playing only cameo roles -

the neighbour,

the canteen lady,

the person you passed by on the street today -

forgetting that they, in fact, have

kept us entertained, 

came up with surprises, 

gave our lives meaning

over all those chapters.

Also forgetting that those 'minor characters' 

are themselves developing; 

the heroes of their own books,

written in parallel to mine, but 

so often intersecting with my story.

Anyways,

I was gifted this book for my birthday this year:

"When Breath becomes Air"

a book not completed by its original author

because he died before he could finished it.

His wife wrote the rest.

A book about meaning, about identity, about mortality - 

a (surprisingly 😜) deep present from a person from

one of those characters in my life who turn out to be not-so-minor after all;

who has over the chapters entertained, come up with surprises, gave me meaning.

And yes, herself developed as a heroine.

Maybe I shouldn't let it stay a dream, 

and start writing a book..

If Allah wills, I'll live to see it to completion.

If not, perhaps someone else will finish it for me.

After all, perhaps 

we are not meant to finish our own book..

Thank you to all who wished me happy birthday today,

I am grateful to have everyone of you in my story, 

as I hope you are grateful to have me in yours.

(thanks Dik for the wonderful present :))

Awfa's Treatise on Loyalty and Trust

How beautiful a couple make Loyalty and Trust,

though too often they are found separated; incomplete:

This is the lesson from a baby

who hasn't yet learnt how to not trust.

A baby is born with eyes that do not judge.

But one of the first social skills she will learn

is to be anxious around strangers. 

To distrust.

You see, we don't forget how to trust.

Rather, we learn how to distrust. 

It is a natural stage of a baby's development;

maybe, an instinctive preparation to face a world

which is not always what it seems:

where people cheat, lie, deceive, play power games.

And to cheat, lie, deceive, play power games,

are social skills the baby, too, 

will learn as she grows up;

though now she is deceptively innocent.

We don't forget how to trust.

Rather, we learn how to distrust. 

And 

perhaps the belief that other people deceive

is a mechanism we build in our own minds

to cope with the guilt of our own deception.

Perhaps the belief that other people are not what they seem

is a mechanism we build in our minds

to cope with the burden of our own secrets.

If so then to trust is something to re-learn. 

And to learn how to trust others, 

one first has to learn to be worthy 

of the trust of others. 

How can I expect loyalty from others when I am myself untrustworthy? 

How can I expect to trust others when I am myself disloyal? 

Loyalty and Trust come hand in hand.

Naturally. Beautifully.

But only if they meet.

This is the lesson from a baby

who hasn't yet learnt how to not trust:

though too often they are found separated; incomplete,

how beautiful a couple make Loyalty and Trust. 

Credits: Awfa binti Adlan Wafi

Seat Booking

You know why I enjoy those weekly train journeys?

It is a chance to escape from both the weekday hassle of Preston hospital and the weekend hassle of Manchester;

a quiet time for me to share with just the window and my thoughts.

Sometimes, however, it would be a chance I wouldn't have:

if I catch the train at rush hour, the train is often full to bursting.

And so I would have to stand up for the nearly hour-long journey in close proximity to equally tired people who were also unlucky enough to not get a seat.

So, after a while, I developed a sense of apprehension when the train approaches the station..

would it be a relaxing, seated journey?

or would it be spent desperately trying to be comfortable by leaning on something the whole time?

Then one day, as I was getting on a train half-full 

(which is most 'exciting' because you don't know whether you're assured a seat or not), 

a thought struck me:

my seat has been booked!

No, I didn't make a booking via the trainline website; and so no, the seat did not have my name on it - 

but my seat booking is even more guaranteed than that!

Because (I just realized) Allah has decreed that 

on this particular train, at this particular time, a guy named Mikhail will get this particular seat.

And if Allah has decreed it, I will get it regardless.

(And if he has not, than I won't get it regardless.)

I guess that's life in general -

we so often feel under pressure;

under attack from all the decisions we have to make, the assignments we have to get done, the seats we have to race for.

But stress for what..??

"rufi'atil aqlaam, wa jaffatis suhuf", as the Prophet s.a.w. wisely described the nature of the fate which has been written for each of us:

"The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried".

A firm belief in qadha' & qadar will make you a chilled person. 

And that's cool, bruv 😎

(Not to say don't put in any effort at all lah.. 

If I don't make effort to get on the train in the first place, how should I even hope to get a seat??

The point is: Relax. Make the effort. Then chill.

"rufi'atil aqlaam, wa jaffatis suhuf") 

😎

Thermodynamics

The applicability of thermodynamics against jiwang:

Chill.

Lower the temperature.

The heart has a melting point.

"Until your heart is in check,

you can't use your mind"

- Nouman Ali Khan 

But to make a decision with BOTH heart and mind?

Ahah..now that requires more than a knowledge of thermodynamics 🤓

(Confirm ak kne tembak pasni sbb bajet paham thermodynamics)

Happy Mother's Day!

At the antenatal clinic last week, 

I was given the chance to operate the ultrasound device 

which detects the heartbeat of a fetus in the womb. 

Taking a while to find the heartbeat, it then took me a few seconds for me to realize how profound a situation I found myself in:

I was holding the device which allowed a would-be mother to hear her baby's heartbeat for the first time.

Cameo role that I played, I was nonetheless part of a precious moment she would probably remember for life.

There is something I've noticed about the nature of Obs & Gynae placement thus far:

it allows you to witness the wonder, the beauty of motherhood.

But it also shows you the blood and gore that comes along with it.

And as much as babies are the most adorable of creatures, 

one cannot help, on this placement, 

but to realize that a baby fits the definition of a parasite quite well:

"An organism which lives in or on another organism (its host) and benefits by deriving nutrients at the other’s expense."

(And by this definition a baby continues to be a parasite even after it leaves the host's body, 

draining the host and her spouse off their physical, emotional and mental vitality as he continues to grow. Sorry Ma 😶)

Anyways what I was trying to get at, Ma,

is that when I was holding the ultrasound device

I thought about you, and 

wondered about that moment when you first heard MY heartbeat;

the heartbeat of that parasite which until today 

has yet to grow up fully and still gives you headaches 😅

Too often we don't appreciate 

the most precious things in life until it's passed us by: 

whether it be a precious moment, like hearing the heartbeat of a baby for the first time,

or a precious person, like the lady who has always loved you unconditionally despite your parasitic nature.

This parasite has got nothing to give you this Mother's Day, Ma

except this message of gratitude 

and a video of an otter and her baby 😅

Love you much, mooch2, assalamualaikum 

(Credits to Norshahkang Shuaib who first showed me this video and thus showed me that sanity is apparently not a prerequisite for postgraduate study)

To Commit

The goalkeeper who runs out of goal,

the person who founds a club,

the man who decides to settle down -

they are wildly different situations with a common thread:

it involves making a decision, and committing to it.

But commitment (by its very nature)

is not without risks:

the risk of failure, 

of heartbreak, 

or plain embarrassment.

It is no surprise why many choose not to commit;

thinking it's the safest choice to make.

But then they do not realize

that the act of not making a choice 

is itself a decision.

Lol.

So..what to do?

No risk, no rizq.

Aiyoyo..!

P.s. Maybe the inability to make a decision is a symptom of an underlying disease: an unwillingness to take responsibility.

P. p. s. there is, though, one relationship in which there is no risk in committing to. The relationship with Allah lah..duhh ✌🏻️

#salamjumaat #imanbarunakup #amsyajanganpressure

Kintsugi

If mistakes are necessary to move towards perfection

then so, necessarily, we will never be perfect.

Is that where beauty lies?

"The world breaks everyone and 

afterward many are strong 

in the broken places."

- Ernest Hemmingway

(How can I expect you to be perfect 

when I'm not either?)

Jaga Hati

Because

you see, 

your heart has strings.

And pulling on them hurts.

Heartache. 

It is the pain of 

failure,

disappointment, of

unreached ambitions.

It is the pain of

dejection, 

rejection, of 

unrequited love. 

But why does it have to hurt so?

Thing is, 

it doesn't have to.

The dunya is an ocean 

in which the makhluk -

an infinite number of creatures -

swim around in an infinite number

of aimless directions. 

Tie your heartstrings to the makhluk

and your heart gets ripped apart,

broken

because

you see, 

your heart has strings.

And pulling on them hurts.

Why not tie instead your heartstrings

to Al-Khaliq - 

the One who created all creatures?

Tie your heartstrings only to Al-Khaliq

and your heart is not ripped apart,

but uplifted.

Tossed around by the waves of the dunya,

it is nonetheless be at peace,

guided always by the One who created it.

You see, 

your heart has strings.

And pulling on them hurts.

Reminder to self

who also has to 

jaga hati.

Nah, lagu nasyid: 😬

http://youtu.be/oD24r3lSGn4

Manchester Snow

Like footsteps left

in Manchester snow

is the dunya;

fleeting brushstrokes on

a fleeting canvas.