Simple

It was, by far, one of the best Maulidur Rasul events I’d experienced.

Each year, for the last five years, Masjid Al Amin’s Indian Muslim Madrasah has been organising Maulidur Rasul events (“maulids”) for the Indian-Muslim folk at Telok Blangah. The staple items would be the...

(a) standard singing of maulid poetry/songs by middle-to-old age men (set uncomfortably to the tunes of olden Hindi and Tamil songs)
(b) recitation of the Holy Qur’an
(c) nasheed or two
(d) bayaan by a respected Ustaz
(e) distribution of tabaruk (or “seerni” or “nerchair”, which will be briyani) at the end

I think the mode of delivery of (a) is extremely obsolete and has become almost irrelevant and meaningless these days. These are verses of powerful poetry praising the Holy Prophet (s.a.w.), but due to the difference in language (Arabic) and the horrible singing, no one pays attention, let alone understand the beautiful verses. Either someone should sing them nicely or explain what the verses mean.

(e) is the reason, in my perspective, most Indian Muslim women come for the maulid with their screaming children. I say so because I’ve actually HEARD conversations between housewives such as the following:

- “Hey [name]. What are you waiting here for? You’ve got the briyani, the job’s done. Why don’t you go back home?” or
- “Yo [name], I’ve sent my triplet 5-year-old sons to collect three more briyani packets. Why don’t you re-send your daughter to collect, since they won’t give an adult more than one packet?”

But we console ourselves saying that at least people are made to come to listen to uplifting bayaans through an incentive.

This year’s maulid was the first where I did not do anything (I used to be the host for four consecutive years and also sing in the nasheeds). As an audience member, I was mesmerized by the professionalism of the new host, a brother whom I placed my full trust and who delivered very brilliantly. I was awed by the creative nasheed performances, which departed from the last few years’ style by lowering the intensity the hadra and increasing the spirit of the song. I was excited by the guest speaker’s (the Bencoolen Mosque Imam) analytical bayaan on how the Prophet s.a.w.’s miracles are actually all reflections and the total sum of all the earlier prophets’ miracles, even though they are underplayed in the Holy Book.

Overall, I was uplifted by the entire programme of the afternoon, which was short and simple, but very substantial and impressive in terms of the talents that dwell in the madrasah. I’m very proud of all the brothers and sisters who made it a big success, alhamdulillah.

I’ve always been proud to be in the madrasah since the first days I joined the class in 2002. Jalsa was my mentor then, being a pioneering member for 8-plus years, and wearing a sarong on the first day I came for clas. There were several folks of my age group back then. But due to National Service and other commitments, that age group became smaller and the pool of children aged 9 to 11 increased manifold.

In spite of that, the madrasah’s high standard in terms of “doing the job” during an event has been constant, in no small contribution by the charismatic and unforgettable Ustaz of the madrasah. In fact, he is the focal point of reference for tens of youths in Telok Blangah, who form a low-lying but closely-knit network of brothers and sisters. Of course, many of them may be now married with children or taking other courses in life, but the Al Amin madrasah will always be a part of their (hopefully) cherished memories. I guess the maulid also hopes to reunite them to catch up on old times.

I shall now end of this very Primary 6 essay-sounding post with the all-famous last line:
The maulid event was indeed a fun and memorable one.

PS. The 10 km Mizuno run in the morning was a run to reckon with. The slopes at Mt Faber were too much for my spartan legs to withstand, so I walked and took photos. Two of them are in this post.

Baggage

Last Friday, I was given the opportunity to listen to a bayaan at the Abdul Ghafoor mosque at Dunlop street, where I go every Friday for Qur'an tafsir. The guest speaker for last Friday was Moulavi Al-Hafiz M.S. Abdul Qayyum Baqavi, the Imam of Masjid Bencoolen.

I had heard his speeches before, and have always been enthralled at this gift of the gab. He is witty, yet forceful in his emphasis on certain important points. The ahadith he quotes are mostly lesser-known ones, and if they are known, they are quoted in an extremely apt context. He is indeed a gift to the Tamil-speaking jama'at in Singapore, which needs forceful speakers to instill valuable knowledge and provoke thinking among individuals.

In his bayaan, entitled "Samuththuvan Karpitha Thoothar" or "The Messenger Who Taught Equality", he explained how the Prophet s.a.w. brought about a revolutionary social change in a society that was entrenched in the caste and status hierarchies of that time. He noted that the Europeans and Americans, who claimed to have wiped off racism and inequality, after about 200 years, have still not reached the stage the Prophet s.a.w. achieved in 23 years, 1,400 years ago, in view of the rampant racism still existing in their societies. (I believe that even in our multicultural society, there is a lot of latent racism in the form of narrow-minded stereotyping and baggages and baggages of deep-seated prejudice among many individuals of all races.) I now share a story which touched me to tears at the bayaan. [This may not be exactly as in the original hadith, as my memory fails me, but the gist is here].

The place is Medina. The lesser-known Sahaba, Julaybib r.a., who, prior to converting to Islam, was condemned by his townsfolk, for being slightly deformed, short, for not knowing his lineage (which, in Arab society that time, meant he would not be entitled to any support or protection from any tribe), and for basically everything else he was. He was considered the useless person with disability in that town. In fact, "Julaybib" means "small grown", indeed a dimunitive and discriminatory name to be associated with. No one would mix with him and he was a wretch. None of the men would mix with him, so he mostly turned to female company for companionship - even they had him in their midst just so they could make fun of him and laugh at him.

At that time, the Prophet s.a.w. was preaching to men equality among humankind, and that no one was higher or lower than anyone else except in in piety towards Allah. Julaybib entered the fold of Islam eventually, and the Prophet s.a.w., seeing that here was a Sahabah who had suffered much embarrassment and in need of company, asked if he would like to get married. Julaybib, having lived a life of condemnation before him, was understandably bewildered, but said yes, that he would like to, if anyone were willing. At once, the Prophet s.a.w. told him to see so-and-so, a person with noble lineage in Medina, and ask for his daughter's hand in marriage. Julaybib humbly asked if it would work out, and the Prophet said, "It would work out, just tell him I said so." Honoured but again bewildered, Julaybib obeyed his Master and went to do the same.

At the nobleman's house, he knocked, and the door opened. The nobleman and his wife were evidently puzzled at why Julaybib, the joke of the town and weakest of them all, was doing at their house. Julaybib asked for the nobleman's daughter's hand in marriage. The nobleman was shocked, and immediately refused with much disgust. Julaybib reinstated that he was asking based on the Prophet s.a.w.'s orders, to which the Nobleman assured that he will speak to the Prophet s.a.w. personally to sort out this confusion, and chased Julaybib away. In the house, the daughter asked the father who it was. "It was Julaybib... he asked for your hand in marriage! So I chased him away." The daughter asked on who's order Julaybib came, to which the answer was the Prophet s.a.w. Immediately, the daughter, may Allah bless her, ordered her father to call Julaybib back, as it was the order ofthe Prophet s.a.w. To cut a story short, soon after, Julaybib and the girl were married.

The time came when Julaybib was on an expedition, where a short battle took place with some enemy forces. Julaybib was subsequently martyred after downing 7 enemy men. After the battle, the Prophet s.a.w. asked his men, if they had lost someone of their relations.

Some answered - "I lost my brother." Others answered "I lost my father." Still some answered that they lost their uncle, or son, or someone close.

The Prophet s.a.w. said, "But I have lost Julaybib. Search for him in the battlefield."

They eventually found him, next to the seven men whom he managed to take down before he was taken down. His deformed, stunted body lay on the ground. The Prophet s.a.w. went to the body and said, "Julaybib is of me, and I am of him." The Prophet then dug for him a grave and personally buried him, as Julaybib had no relatives.

Alhamdulillah. The Prophet s.a.w. trancended the prejudiced social structure of that time by declaring Julaybib one of his own, by ordering a nobility to marry Julaybib, gain for him martyrdom and bury him as his own. The Prophet s.a.w. saw something in a man that others couldn't, or refused to see. In Julaybib he saw a sincere heart and a beautiful soul, willing to die for Islam.

For a lot of us, we carry a lot of mental and emotional baggages towards people, without even us realising it. We might not want to talk to Aziz because he's fat, and fat people are lazy, or we don't want anything to do with Abdul because he looks arrogant, people say he's arrogant and most probably he is arrogant. But we really don't know until we talk to them, and see the good in them and engage their good side.

A related point when alms-beggars come to you, well, begging for alms at mosque doorways in Singapore. Some of us shun them or look away from them, because we have a theory that they are actually fit and strong and can work, but they choose not to because they are lazy. The thing is, we don't know this. they could really have some problem that is preventing them from working. But if they are out to cheat us, they are answerable to the Lord. If they are using their small kids to gain emotional points to make us give money, they also have to answer. But it's our job to give alms when asked, because for all the limited info we have, they might need it. If we can't, then a short smile with a "maybe next time" will do, instead of a rude stare or feigning of ignorance. I'm guilty as charged - it's time to change my habits.

ARR's Lesson to Colonial Hang Ups

Sivaji (The Boss) is Rajinikanth's latest highly anticipated movie. Needless to say, the expectations of people like me are off the charts because of the Shankar-AR Rahman-Rajinikanth combo. Yet another magnum "aapus" (Jalsa, 2006) for each of them. Anyway, I bought the (original) audio CD of Sivaji after making a vow that I'll never download an MP Tamil song for free anymore. Yes.

The songs are impressive. The "Oh I'm Da Man, Vallavan Mannavan I'm semi God to all you villagers" opening title song sung by SPB, called Balleillakka is above average, fast and catchy, although I kinda liked the beat of "Singa Nadai" of Padaiyappa better. (Did you know in the hardcore theatres in Chennai, hardcore fans will actually throw flowers and even money at the screen during the Rajini opening song?)

Vaaji Vaaji is a good duet by Hariharan and Madhushree, if not for the irritating "vaaji vaaji" bit which rings of jingoism all round. (Then again all of Rajini's songs/dialogues are full of jingoistic overtones). Then there's Sadhana Sargam's mysterious verse: "Azhagai saanee (saanai?) idu..."/"Apply excrement on the beauty".

Athiradee is my favourite. It starts off with something like what the group "Lock-up" would sing, then it morphs into something out of a Gwen Stefani song, and then ARR begins his "Dee, dee dee...". The composition is amazing, and the overall result is electrifying.

Style is another favourite. An individual by the name of "Rags", by virtue of his pseudo-Shaggy voice, has given the hip-hop rythmed song a totally new dimension in Tamil music. His screeching baritone gives no hint that it's a Rajini movie song, until you hear the jingoistic verses ending in "style", which happens to be the name of the song as well. Suresh Peters makes a comeback with this song after disappearing into the dark jungles of The Forgotten.

The Boss is a background theme music that probably goes with Rajini walking and whacking and rescuing and winning. The two similar-sounding Sahara/Sahana tracks are vintage ARR duets, melodious, and calming.

I'm so fascinated with Athiradee and Style that I hope the picturisation comes out well.

I also happened to listen Aatma by Colonial Cousins.

Colonial Cousins (CC) are the duo Leslie Lewis and Hariharan, two musicians in their own right. Lewis is a producer of jingles, and I guess he sings sometimes as well. Hariharan is a famous ghazal singer known for his vocal acrobatics. The two formed an alliance which they thought was brilliant - Western music (Lewis) fusing with classical Indian music (Hariharan). Old concept today, but earth-shattering in 1996 when their first album "Colonial Cousins" was a platinum hit in India. I was in Secondary 2 then, and I thought This is Music.

Then their second album entitled "The Way We Do It" was released, amidst huge expectations, released by Sony Music in 1998. I liked the album, but CC admitted that it was not a success. They had experimented too much for the loyal followers of the first album to digest. I think it flopped because many others had begun to do East-West fusion, and CC was sounding stale. After that flop, they went into exile.

With Aatma, I obtained a piercing revelation on why they had gone stale. Two fatal mistakes which I wouldn't expect music industry professionals to make:

1. Ripping off popular Western genres wholesale and calling it their own. And using music arrangments of the EIGHTIES. Of the 9 tracks I listened, there was a ballad (a la Westlife), a pop piece (a la Westlife), a COUNTRY track, a customary Bollywood track and a few other forgettable tunes. There and here, Hariharan will come in with his "aaaahhhhhaaahhahhhaha" sangeetha bragas-laden voice and we're supposed to celebrate that the whole thing's Indian.

2. Pre-school lyrics. An example:

Mom and Dad are the ones I love
I know I can't find no other (You must be pulling my leg)

Quiet words to help me understand
Loving hands to hold me when I stand (How about another word to rhyme with -and?)

When I lose, they're always right there behind me
So right now I don't know what to say (That's a surprise)
But I'd like to thank them anyway
Because they make me want to aaayyy (Ah good! You've found a non-existent word to rhyme!)

And more of this.

If you really wanted me to choose my favourite track from this rather tepid album, I'd say it's Dheem Dheem Direna, which is quite short actually.

Of Paruthis and Bystanders

Just last night, I was having dinner when my sister decided that she wanted to watch Paruthiveeran (PV), a movie by the acclaimed Ameer. Ameer had directed Mounam Pesiyathe, which I didn't really like, and subsequently Raam, which I thought was excellent. So unfortunately, Ameer was victim of the high expectations I had set on him for PV.

In PV, he takes his shot at a rural story of blood wars and caste tensions, somewhat similar in mood to the violent Virumandi. At the centre of the controversy is Mr Paruthiveeran (yes, it's actually someone's name!), a rough, uncouth, murderous, promiscuous, vulgar individual who happens to be from a lower caste, but is related to a higher caste through his step-father. If that was confusing, there are many other step-fathers, sons-in-law and uncle relations that will possibly drive you up the nearby oak tree, worst still if you don't manage to sieve through their impossible accent. Things become complicated when his relative, a high-caste girl, actually loves PV inspite of all his crap, because he saved her life during their childhood and because he's just oozing with manhood. The tension ensues with threats, fights, and a brutal climax.

I liked:

- The cinematography: very beautiful and innovative compositions, creative use of colours and natural lighting.
- The attention to detail of the dialogue, especially when one character is speaking you can hear murmurs, whispers and comments by a thousand other people without distracting you from what the main fella is saying (however, the distracting accent is another story).
- The music, by Yuvan, is interesting departure from Yuvan's normal teeny-bop hip-hip "yo spin that shit" type of music. In this movie, he's been forced to record some of the hardcore village folk music , complete with old men and women singing throats dry.

I disliked:
- The climax. It spoke poorly of the entire structure of the narrative as it did not reveal anything new, and I believe it served only to shock and disturb. In fact, I think the movie became a hit only because of the controversy surrounding the climax.
- The resulting feeling that the entire movie beat around the beaten bush to reveal a sordid ending.

Even though the minuses are outnumbered by the pluses, I didn't feel too good after the movie. I hope Ameer's next one hits the mark.

Read what The Hindu says about PV.

~~~

I was with my wife on the upper deck of an SBS bus when she alerted me of a man asking where he was. This man was a few seats in front of us, in the row parallel to our row, in the almost empty bus. He was saying "Excuse me, were are we? Excuse me? Excuse me? Hallo. Hallo" in a loud voice to the guy in front of him, who was ignoring him. I, too, thought of ignoring him because he could've been on his mobile phone. But my wife, being a special education teacher and having an uncanny talent to come the rescue of many a person with disability, highlighted that the man was visually impaired and was asking a question to anyone near him a simple question of where he was. I went to him and told him where we were, and he became silent, indicating his quest was mometarily over.

If I take myself as an example, I agree with many in the social service sector who say that Singapore needs many more years in accepting persons with disabilities as part of society. I, for one, was not accustomed to seeing a man ask for help to determine where he was, and I would have just kept silent if my wife hadn't been there. Apart from being shameful about my potential behaviour, and resolving to be more proactive next time, I asked myself why some of us are like that.

Social behavior theory tells us that people are more reluctant to help, when they are surrounded in a group, because of the Bystander Intervention Problem. This theory was supported by an experiment conducted in 1968, which showed that if appeals for help are called out to a group or a large crowd, no one responds, because everyone else thinks the other will help. This is called diffusion of responsibility: "I'm sure someone's going to help. So I'll just wait and see how." Social scientists point to the solution: it is to direct the plea for help at an individual so that diffusion of responsiblity does not occur. So next time you need help, and a crowd forms, be sure to point at one person and firmly say what you want to say, eg. "call the police".

The other reason maybe that many of us do not come across persons with disabilities. We don't have a relative with autism, or we don't have a colleague with cerebral palsy, or we have never heard of someone with intellectual disability. I guess we might have to take some time out on some weekends to volunteer our services to some of these volunteer welfare organisations to get more in touch with such folks.

Why Recite

Alhamdulillah, the Masjid Al Amin Tilwatul Qur'an Competition Grand Finals was successfully held yesterday afternoon, with the presence of the very honourable Mufti of Singapore Sahabus Samahah Syed Isa Bin Mohd Semait.

I was given the privilege of being the host for the finals, as well as the previous audition and semi-final rounds. So through these rounds, I was blessed with the opportunity to listen to the recitation of the Holy Qur'an close to 120 times.

The competition was organised as a platform to motivate young Indian Muslims to recite the Qur'an in a beautiful manner. The national platform, organised annually by MUIS for talented reciters from all around Singapore, demands a very high standard that many from the Indian Muslim community are not trained in, unfortunately. Particularly, immaculate tajwid and tarannum are sought after in the national and international circles. But the Indian Muslim community mostly prizes the mere recitation of the Qur'an, with only a handful individuals willing to go on to the next level of recitation. Insha Allah, the winds of change are blowing. Following this event organised by Masjid Al Amin, more mosques that are Indian Muslim-based are beginning to show interest and are improving the quality of their students' recitation. I pray that slowly, the community is versatile in its recitation styles and is able to produce world-class reciters.

The audience at the Tilawatul Qur'an competition was very supportive, with many parents attending to support their children. However, in terms of the etiquette some audience members need to observe when the Qur'an is being recited, there is a long, long way to go. The scream of an indisciplined 3-year old child when a finalist is reciting his highest pitch in the nahawane suara is, quite frankly, atrocious. The reciter is demoralised, the listening audience is distracted and disturbed and the poor child is quite possibly silently cursed under many people's breaths. The situation also occurs (more frequently) during Maulid Rasul events, when the atrocities are blatant - many don't attend the function to celebrate the birth of the Prophet s.a.w., but come to receive the free briyani packets distributed at the end of the function. And they unashamedly admit they do so. Not because they're spiteful or anything, they just think that "This is what we've always been doing".

To correct this misconception requires a public education campaign of the massive sort. We need to educate the masses the spiritual objective of such functions and make them see that life is beyond briyani packets, and it extends to the hereafter. May Allah give us the strength to battle ignorance in this area.

Overall, I believe the Tilawatul Qur'an Competition was a success to everyone who participated in it with the niyyat to do service for Allah. As I always believe, the tag "competition" is merely an exercise in semantics - such recitation events are platforms to 1. Recite the Holy Book for Allah, 2. To allow others to correct and perfect you in your recitation through a "public examination" and lastly 3. To share with others the ultimate manifestation of Allah's message to mankind, which is through the voice, the tongue, the teeth and the air that Allah gave to Man.

I pray that the next Tilawatul Qur'an Competition organised by Masjid Al Amin is an even bigger success. I congratulate all the participants of the event and thank all those who helped in one way or another to make it a success.