Writer’s Blog

Every time I shower, or drive to and from work, or sit on the porcelain throne, I would have millions of topics that I would write about. I have so many drafts written and left halfway because I’d lose track as another topic sets precedence.

So help me here, please.

What would you like me to write about?

Here I Am

Makkatul Mukarramah

It was December 1998, during the Muslim month of Ramadhan that I first set foot In Makkah. It was a trip that opened my mind and saw things from a totally different perspective.

Two weeks prior to that, I went for this briefing at the tour agent’s house on the do’s and don’ts of Umrah, and was given a guide book published by Tabung Haji on how to perform my Umrah. There were specific doas to be read each round I circumambulate the Kaabah, each round of Sa’ie and just before I snip some of my hair for Tahallul. Our group arrived in Jeddah at around 5am and got a taste of why the Prophet was from amongst the Arabs. We did the 6-hour bus ride to Madinatul Munawwarah and I broke my fast at the Prophet’s Mosque (Masjid an-Nabawi) with several Indonesians. It was still smack bang in the midst of the Asian financial crisis, and Dr Mahathir’s removal pegging of the Ringgit‘s peg to the US dollars had just taken effect. I had bought myself two lamb kebabs (yes, those days I was still able to eat lamb), but the Indonesians were only having lettuce and yoghurt. There were six of us seated on the cool marble floor outside the mosque. So I divided each kebab into three to share with the Indonesian pilgrims. They cried when we broke fast, being able to have the kebab, and thanked me for sharing.

I left Madinah for Makkah on the third day, stopping at Bir Ali to put on my Ihram and upon arrival, performed my Umrah. It was there that I stopped reading the guide book, and prayed in the language I know best – Malay; for Allah is All-Knowing. So I thought it was best for me to pray (Doa) to Him in Malay instead of probably asking Him for Pizza in Arabic. A Chinese family walked past me during Tawaf and were praying in Mandarin, and a Caucasian woman prayed in French. I returned to Makkah twice after that, all during the fasting month, and performed Umrah seven times each trip, doing one each for my late grandparents, my late uncle, my late sister, and myself (I performed for me first).

Makkatul Mukarramah

I performed my Haj in March 2001. That year, Formula One was in Sepang and it rained heavily. And I was in Makkah watching CNN when the space station Mir made its fiery re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere. I went on the last flight into Jeddah; and over Qarnul Manazil, I was already in my Ihram, ready to perform the most difficult of Haj – the ‘Ifrad. I was to be in my Ihram until I have completed my first Tahallul (Tahallul Awwal) when I can remove my Ihram clothes and wear normal clothes but will still be restricted from performing certain things until I have completed my Haj. For one week I had to watch what I do, wear only unstitched piece of cloth, no perfume or scented soap and so on.

Then one day, we left for Mina on the day before Wukuf, and at midnight, moved to Arafah in preparation for Wukuf. I met the Air Force officer I relieved in Alor Setar as the Squadron Officer-Commanding there after ‘Asar. After Maghrib, I went to Muzdalifah to collect some stones for the Stoning of the Jamrah rites in Mina. I made a pact with a religious teacher from Indonesia to go to Mina, then find our own way back to Makkah to perform our Sa’ie and Tahallul Awwal. After midnight, we hitched a ride on the back of a pickup, made our way back to Masjidil Haram and performed the Sa’ie, followed by Tahallul Awwal, after which, I went back to my hotel and changed into normal clothes.

The next day, I went to Mina throw stones at the Jamratul Aqaba. Despite the stories I’ve heard, I got to stand right in front of the pillar that I was sure to hit the pillar had I stoned it with my eyes shut. After this ritual, past midnight I rushed back to Makkah to perform my Tawaf If’adah (or Tawaf Haji) and I was free from ALL restrictions.

I spent over the next three days stoning the Jamrahs (Sughra, Wusta and Aqaba/Kubra) and completed my Haj. I spent another two weeks in Makkah performing Umrah (again, I did the mandatory one time for Haj, one time for myself and the other six for my late grandparents, my late uncle and late sister). I even took the opportunity to scale Jabal Noor, northeast of Masjidil Haram and managed to pray inside the Hira’ Cave just to experience it. I also scaled Jabal Thawr, southeast of Masjidil Haram, to see the cave where the Prophet took refuge from the Quraisy. On my second last day there, I met with a former classmate of mine, who is now a cardio-surgeon. The next day I left for Madinatul Munawwarah and spent six days there before returning home.

It was a journey of a lifetime for me. A journey that dispelled the myths that so-called religious people in Malaysia have told me. It is there that I finally realised that most of what we have been practicing in Malaysia are based on hearsay and not according to the Quran and aHadith as-Sahih, that many things have been added according to various human interpretations.

And most important, I realised God is NOT for the Muslim Arabs, but also the non-Muslim Arabs, the Jews, the Chinese, the Indians, the Christians, and that Islam is a way of life as prescribed by Him, not as interpreted by so-called Imams and Ulamas.

Many Gums

Madu Tiga

I always think that having one wife is bad enough when it is bad. Having to handle just one wife is, to me, more than a handful. Muslim men tend to believe that it is their prerogative to have four wives at any one time and this belief is based on the following:

If ye fear that ye shall not be able to deal justly with the orphans, marry women of your choice, two, or three, or four; but if ye fear that ye shall not be able to deal justly (with them), then only one, or that which your right hands possess. That will be more suitable, to prevent you from doing injustice. (an-Nisaa: 3)

What they never read is the other ayat in the same surah where Allah SWT says:

Ye are never able to do justice between wives even if it is your ardent desire: but turn not away (from a woman) altogether, so as to leave her (as it were) hanging (in the air). If ye come to a friendly understanding and practise self-restraint, Allah is Oft-Forgiving Most Merciful. (an-Nisaa: 129)

I believe I have written twice on polygamy prior to this: Polly Wants A Gummy and Polly Wants Nuts While The Jays Want Champagne. You can go to those links if you want to know my stand on polygamy.

Anyway, I cannot understand why men would want to marry another. Perhaps it makes them feel younger to have a younger woman as a wife; perhaps it would make them look good to walk with a trophy wife. Either way, it is a gamble to me. How much better or worse could another woman be, compared to the current wife? We’ll never know until we marry another.

Imagine this – you’re a 50-year old man. You’ve been married to a nagging wife for the past 30 years, have say three kids, numerous grandchildren. All you ever did for the past 30 years was to go home from work, eat your wife’s cooking day in day out, and get her to spread her legs so you could unload your daily troubles. Suddenly, you wake up one morning and your penis gets semi-rigid, and you decided it was time to have another wife.

That is when you think you would be happier than you’ll ever be.

You take someone in her 20s. She not only looks at you as a husband, but also a father-figure. You get home after a hard day’s work. You’re so attuned to your life with the first wife. And suddenly you have a woman half your age to look after. You have to send your clothes to the laundry; you’re expected to take her out to dinner, so on and so forth. You face problems in the office and at the same time have to juggle between the needs of both wives.

Do you think you’re happier now than you were then?

And you second wives, don’t treat the first wife like she’s the dirt that never knew how to treat your husband. Whatever it may be, you are still the second choice. The first one’s has had decades of monopolizing your husband’s attention, your husband’s dick is so immersed in her juice that her DNA is probably inside you now. Be considerate; consider the feelings of his children, if not the feelings of the first wife. Don’t expect his friends or siblings to treat you as how they have been treating the first wife.

You think you’re happy being the second wife?

Remember, if he did it to his first wife, he can always do it to his second wife.

See if you are happy now.