Sulaiman the Magnificent

Mentioned the name Sulaiman, my thoughts were always about this, the name ‘man of peace’ in the form of Suleiman the Magnificent, one of the great Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, who conquered the Christian strongholds of Belgrade, Rhodes, and most of Hungary and whose fleet dominated the seas from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf.

And maybe the Prophet Sulaiman, who has been given control over various elements, such as the wind and transportation, and command over the Jinn and animals.

But not this Sulaiman.

I met up with him at the Indira Gandhi International Airport last April. Somehow as I penned my thoughts in my Facebook previously on something wrt the Law of Attraction, the magnetism towards him was damn great. It’s like my thoughts had the energy which attracts whatever that I’m thinking of. That particular day at the airport, I was thinking how to say my prayer in peace*. Then, the Almighty sent me His ‘man’.

What attracted me was initially the way he was dressed. Reminds me of the blessed Sahabah. He dressed in a robe, unlike the typical Tablighi Jamaat brothers or the white ones usually worn by the Arabs. It’s something in between. That nice beard. The nicely trimmed short moustache. The North Face backpack. The slippers (though he later admitted that my Crocs Off Road was better alternative for Jamaat journeys).

My brother Sulaiman was seriously mixed up. He’s an American but has a Caucasian, African and Cherokee origins. And he looks like er, er maybe a Malay. He has a kid from his previous marriage. His wife was from Eritrea (near Sudan). He is now finishing his ‘Alim Studies in one of the madrasah in San Diego, California.

After meeting him while taking wudhu’ in the gents, I got the honour to say the Isya’ prayer with him as the imam. Somehow, the Almighty works in magnificent ways, even my seat in the MAS A320 was next to him. He was on his way back to LA from Delhi, via KL. We chatted (intelligent discourse, I would say), ate the mutton briyani (served by beautiful stewardess) to our filled and said goodbye after Subuh prayer in one of the surau in KLIA.

Jazakallah. Hope to see you again brother.

* previously at the Tom Bradley Airport Los Angeles early 2008, the Almighty also send me one of his slave, just to accompany me to say my solat.

Somewhere in Greater Tokyo

Kichijoji

When I reached Narita Airport, I felt like I was really lost.

When I took the Japan Railway map, it looked more complicated that the London subway, with more than 2 dozen railway lines, each with different colour coding. But then, I was totally wrong. In fact, it was so damn easy. In fact, the whole system (Japanese system) is really piece of cake.

For example to get to Tokyo Disneyland, I have to take the Keiyo Line which stops at Maihama Station. From there, I proceed to Kichijoji Station via the same Keiyo Line to Tokyo Main Station (with more than six different train integrating to each other) and change to the famous Yamanote Line and onto Chuo Line to Kichijoji.

Things that I realised:

• The Japs are very trendy lot
• The train and busses are very efficient to the dot
• They are very friendly, trying to help even if they don’t know
• Most of them don’t speak English, or really very bad engrish
• The tv stations are crystal clear like blue-ray discs
• The internet is at lightning speed at gigabit per seconds
• I don’t see any Bangla or Indon around to do odd jobs, all by Japanese
• They know marayshia

Enjoying spring in Tokyo Disneyland

The Tokyo Train Network

The Taj Mahal

Akanku kota janji kita

Mendirikan Taj Mahal cinta

Seteguh kasih

Shah Jahan kepada

Mumtaznya

- Nubhan AF6

Unlike the song, the Taj Mahal is too much. Much, much more. Mere words cannot justify its existence.

The Taj Mahal was built by the Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan in commemoration of his favourite wife (wife number 3 for your info), the Empress Mumtaz Mahal. In fact the wife number 1 and number 2 also buried in the Taj complex, but in a very much (very, very much) smaller mausoleums. Some said, he loved her so much because she bears him all his children, where the other twos were barren.

Shah Jahan married Mumtaz Mahal (real name Arjumand Bano), a grandaugther of Itimad-ud-Daula, the Wazir of Emperor Jahangir in 1612. Mumtaz died in 1631 at the birth of her 14^th child.

The grief stricken emperor spared no effort in building the tomb in her memory, which is universally acknowledged as one of the most beautiful creation on earth. After his death in 1666, Shah Jahan was buried in a tomb beside his beloved.

Artisans were requisitioned from all over the empire and from Central Asia and Iran. While bricks from the internal framework were locally made, white marble for external surfaces was brought from Makrana in Rajasthan. The building was completed in 1648 after 17 years, at the costs of about 40 million rupees at a time when gold was sold at Rp 15 per 11.66 gram. Now without taking the inflation rate factor, only on the gold pricing alone, the costs would be 40 billion rupees (RM 5.3 billion). However, looking at the intricate and elaborate designs and embellishments, at least it worth 4 times more.

Shah Jahan, grandson of the Emperor Akbar, had a passion for architecture. Under his aegis, Mughal architecture reached its zenith, entering its classical phase. The emperor personally oversaw the building and the architect for the most part is believed to be Ustad Ahmed Lahori.

The Taj plans display strict bilateral symmetry. Every single thing in the Taj complex is symmetrical, except the tomb of Shah Jahan, which was not part of the master plan. The central point is the tomb (rauza) and its four minarets (used for calling azan in those days), flanked by a mosque and an assembly hall (Mehman Khanah … mehman is guests, by the way). The Taj is exactly as wide as it is high (55m) and the height of its dome is the same as the height of its arcade façade. A highlight of the monument is the exquisitely carved pietra dura inlaid with semi precious stones. Some of the stones glow during full moon.

The colour of the translucent marble keeps changing from dawn to midnight, giving it a magical aura in keeping with Shah Jahan’s vision that the tomb and the garden should represent paradise on earth.

To Jay, my dearest wife, the mother of my children, I could not possibly able to emulate to any extent what Shah Jahan did. He’s the Emperor. He’s not even a king, he’s the Emperor. I’m just a man on the street. And of course, Mumtaz had 14 children, you have 4 (itu pun dah handful dah ...).

Breakfast at Jaring

It has been a kind of ritual. Having my breakfast, on every working day with my sweet Jay at one of the ‘ok’ Malay restaurant in my vicinity.

After sending the girls to school in Subang Jaya every morning, before going to work, I would stop by at Restoran Jaring for some sumptuous ‘sarap’ (says the Bruneian). The other reason is that my dear Waseem, who school’s in the afternoon, loves the charkoi, freshly made by two of the restaurant workers whom speak Thai most of the time.

Anyway, since it’s a kind of routine, I do observed that beside us, there were others (couples) who made it their habit to come to this premises for breakfast.

There’s one couple. I would call them the Easy Riders. Both husband and wife were wearing leather jackets. It doesn’t matter what the wife was wearing (baju kurung, blouse etc.), she will wear the same jacket. Sometimes they rode their Yamaha 350cc, but most of time just the Modenas kapchai.

There’s another couple. They were just office mates I think. The man is very thin. But the lady, my goodness. These two will seat on the same table of four, but perpendicularly to each other, every time, and every morning. I just plainly ignored to have a peek at the amount of food portions on her platter. It’s just too scary. God saves this Contra Couple.

There’s the owner who sits and reading newspaper leisurely. And his wife (I assumed) who took care of the counter, and will count every single sen. This restaurant is not cheap, but the food is not bad.

There’s us. Talking mostly about our kids, the politics, Jay’s ‘cuti dalam cuti’ (a.k.a. master program), me saving the world (my office work), and any odd people coming to the restaurant.

To quote a quote in Breakfast at Tiffany's: ... life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real hapiness.