Courtesy

I like to watch Korean shows. Apart from their beautiful scenery I love to listen to their melodious speech. I also noticed one of their customs which is very admirable. They know how to respect their guests. It is their tradition to offer their guests drinks. At home or even at the road side stalls they are given a glass of water the moment they are seated. We are taught to respect our guests too. We offer drins to travellers who could be thirsty even after a short trip. I will usually ask my guest for their preference of cold or hot drink. Most health conscious people will ask for a hot drink, not too sweet, or sky juice. Some, after refusing and profusely asking the host not to bother, will take anything.

I had often been offered thick milk tea or Milo which I had to sip out of respect. Sometimes before any damage is done I will ask for warm water.

Nowadays, since I had become a salesperson I visit more. I find that some people are less generous. After talking for more than an hour and your throat is becoming dry, no one seems to notice. Sometimes we had to travel quite a distance to their place, after they agree to see us. We explained the benefits of taking care of their health without charge or obligation. When it is over we packed our bags and head for the canteen. Are marketing people not your guests? What happened to courtesy?

A friend told me of his meeting with a prospect who had agreed to see him. For nearly an hour during his explanation the guest was busy watching a game on tv. Soon as he finished he excused himself, thanks the host and left. He had done his duty, to explain. If you are against sales people, at least give him due respect as your guest. He is not asking you for your hard earned money.

Our duty is just to share our knowledge and invite others to benefit from the biz. Well, if you are not worth it, you just can’t see the goodness.

In Sickness

1989 . When mum passed away I had a break-down. Her death was not the cause. I can’t explain how I felt then. But it was the terrible fear of death. It was very real and acute fear. My breathing would become heavy, my heart felt contrite, I became weak. All I could do was cry. The attack would come without warning, at anytime. It intensified when I heard the azan. I had to see the doctor every week and was on tranquilizers. It lasted for seven months. I even marked the calendar every 40 days to wait for my death. Imagine, when I was traveling in a car, a lorry came from the opposite direction, I would tell myself ‘this is it!’. I would close my eyes awaiting the bang. When nothing happened the fear lingered on for 2-3 excruciating minutes.

One Fine Day I met someone. She noticed my condition and invited me to her place. Two weeks later she came to see me and insisted that I follow her. I did. I met her friends and Guru who asked me to do zikrullah . To always think of Allah. After a few months I was slowly back to normal. I was with the group learning, bersolat, berzikir, bersuluk for two years. Since my father in law came to stay I seldom can free myself to go. As a ‘punishment’ I was banned from attending any activities until I was ready to commit myself. He passed away after three months. And I stopped seeing my friends. While it lasts I had some strange yet beautiful experiences. (To share ab this later.)

Suluk

Kebajikan utama (seorang Muslim)

Ialah mengetahui hakikat salat

Hakikat memuja dan memuji

Salat yang sebenarnya

Tidak hanya pada waktu isya dan maghrib

Tetapi juga ketika tafakur

Dan salat tahajud dalam keheningan

Buahnya ialah menyerahkan diri senantiasa

Dan termasuk akhlaq mulia

nn

Apakah salat yang sebenar-benar salat?

Renungkan ini: Jangan lakukan salat

Andai tiada tahu siapa dipuja

Bilamana kaulakukan juga

Kau seperti memanah burung

Tanpa melepas anak panah dari busurnya

Jika kaulakukan sia-sia

Karena yang dipuja wujud khayalmu semata

Jangan memuja

Jika tidak menyaksikan Yang Dipuja

Juga sia-sia orang memuja

Tanpa kehadiran Yang Dipuja

Walau Tuhan tidak di depan kita

Pandanglah adamu

Sebagai isyarat ada-Nya

Inilah makna diam dalam tafakur

Asal mula segala kejadian menjadi nyata

Orang berilmu

Beribadah tanpa kenal waktu

Seluruh gerak hidupnya

Ialah beribadah

Diamnya, bicaranya

Dan tindak tanduknya

Malahan getaran bulu roma tubuhnya

Seluruh anggota badannya

Digerakkan untuk beribadah

Inilah kemauan murni.

Tam

The best friend I ever had. When she was young she had seven younger siblings. When mum was about to have a baby or in confinement, she would take over the family biz. She did the cooking, washing and cleaning too. Abang was in UK. Second sis was married. I was not very keen in the household chores other than doing what had already been allotted to me.

Tam passed her time looking for firewood with her friends. When in seasons she looked for cendawan busut (mushrooms), berangan (chestnuts), pucuk paku, buah perah, petai, or anything that can be eaten or sold. The trade she learnt from Nyai.

She was also multi talented. She could sing, sew, and cook. She was a ceer woman who managed a big cooperative
biz. Everyone loved her.

We used travel a great deal in our van during our free time. We frequented the theaters and films. Attended courses whenever possible. With her around life was never dull. We talked, laughed and cried together. Our conversations were very detailed. And our anger could be harsh but never bitter.

She had a special room in my house. Thus more than often I would come home surprised to find the house smelling clean, the cloths washed and folded, and hot food on the table. She was nowhere to be seen.

Dreams

Few days after mum’s death Abah told us that he had the most three years to live. If he passed that period he would live at least another 20 years. Barely three years later Abah passed away just as the azan called for the evening twilight prayers.

The irony was that my sis Tam had told me of her dream a week earlier. She had described the exact picture of what we were witnessing on the day my father’s body arrived from Sarawak. Even the words my granduncle told her was the same, ‘It is your father.” The crowd, the sad faces were just a flashback being replayed.

1997, I was at work. We were busy trying to catch the dateline. After the evening prayer I laid down on the couch while waiting for my friends to get ready for dinner. I had a dream. I was on a sandy beach by the sea. Two of my teeth came off. They were still good but bloody. I felt a tremendous lost. I looked at them but just couln’t put it back. I felt the emptiness at the places where they had been.

I had completely forgotten ab the dream. While we were seated for dinner I happen to look at the masjid across the road. Memory of the dream came back. I felt a sudden sadness. I told my friends and said, two of my close relatives are going to die. They said it was just passing thought and not to be taken seriously.

I came back from the office at 5 am that day. Before I even opened the gate my sis Tam called, asking me to come home, my auncle was dying. That evening he died. Twelve days later I got another call from my sister-in-law saying that my sis Tam had stopped breathing. I just could not believe it. I took my own sweet time to pray. When I came out my collegue told me to go home. He had received another call. My sis was really gone. I just laughed. How could she. She was as healthy as I was. I managed to drive home. My hubby was crying near hysterical. I was cool. It must be a sick joke. When I reached the hospital… they took me to a body in shroud, on the bed. I had the feeling of lost I just can’t describe.