N Naim's Posts (13)

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A Hay Wired Night (And Day)

Story About My Painting - A Hay wired Night (And Day)

This was happened long time ago, in the year 2008, month of June. I was depressed, and I took out my empty canvas, splashed colours on it, just to satisfied my self. In the end, this is what I had.

It was a night of broken hearted. I had a mix of feeling of sad, anger and hopeless. It began when I went out to find my best friend. She was someone who I liked. I was about to see her and tell what has been kept for quite a long time.

I knew where she would be, because there was a place being her favourite place to hang out. She knews that I am coming there. I was a bit eager to see her that night.

But the moment I get there, I was down to see her with another guy. In the manner that I know they were more than just friend. I could not go ahead with what I was planning to do. I just back off, and drove back to my place.

Back home, I was sleepless. I spent whole night splashing colours. Its a kind of expressionism painting, where we put all our feeling on the canvas, so that its could tell all the things we wanted other people to know. I do not really know how to tell by words, but this is the thing I could do. From the time it was dark, to the time it gets brighter. Before I noticed, its already morning, and its time to go for work.

But since that moment, I knew, I had put all my sadness and anger on the canvas. I need to move on.

Sorry reader, this post has made a little bit personal, because tonight it seems that the story has repeated.

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“Dates No Cooking?” Dealing With Broken English

I’m working at a construction site. Babu, is a site supervisor. He came from southern Asia. At the beginning, and as a new comer, I never noticed that we need to adapt our English, until I started to communicate with him, and other construction workers. This is the story about it.

 One day I asked him about the dates which grew in front of our office.

Me: Those dates, can we pick them from the tree and eat?

Babu: Can sir, but now how eating? After cooking can eating na.

Me: (Confused. I thought he got me wrong) What is that to do with cooking?

Babu: Sure na… Now no cooking na, eating taste no good. After cooking eating no problem.

Me: ooo. (Now I noticed, cooking = ripped)

I experienced the same cultural shock as others who had never imagined about this before. For those who never being here, might not have any idea of how is broken English sounds like. Staying here, we have to adapt ourselves speaking broken English in order to communicate with others, especially the construction workers.

It is not that we did not want to, but using proper English will make things more complicated, and often leads to communication breakdown.  At the end we are ‘forced’ to speak English in their way.

I would like to tell about the other events.

One day I was directing Babu to accompany me for a site visit.

Me: Babu!
Babu: Yes, sir!
Me: I want you to wait for me at the back gate around 4 this afternoon, but don’t be too early. Understand?
Babu: No sir!
Me: No what?
Babu: No understand sir!

Me: (Inhale) I want you to wait for me at the back gate around 4 this afternoon, but don’t be too early. Is that OK?

Babu, still looking cluelessly.

Babu: No understand sir!

Me: Sigh...(Inhale again) You afternoon…. backside coming….ok? 2 o’clock no coming, 3 o’clock no coming- 4 o’clock coming ok.!
Babu: Ok, sir, understand!


Me: Ukh!..(Why am I talking like this?)

4pm at the rear gate.

Me: (telephone) Babu!
Babu: Hello sir!
Me: Where are you? I’m here at the gate.
Babu: sorry sir?
Me: (…owh, I need to speak broken again…)I now already coming. Where you?
Babu: aaaa…(sounds like he understood) Ok, sir…there hot too much. I just now passed away, you no there. I now tree under-standing.
Me: Hah? (Became more confused)

(note: I now tree understanding = standing under the tree)

On the other day.

Babu: Good morning , sir!

Me: Morning….How are you doing down there?

Babu: I’m doing chicking sir!

Me: Hah? (confused)

Babu: I’m doing chicking!

Me: (OK…I just noticed, I gave a wrong form of greeting. Next time just say ‘How are you’)

Chicking what?

Babu: Every day I coming chicking all the worker. Now all worker good, no illegal na. Worker illegal na, me coming arrest the police.

Me: oo…. (Whatever, Babu. But why you want to arrest the police?)

(Note: Chicking = checking)

 

Dear reader, had you ever experienced the same thing? Chill….

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Story About My Painting - What The Unexpected Things To Expect In Dubai

I did this painting in August last year. The painting is about the Dubai Creek.

The place where my colleagues and I used to spend our weekend night. Perhaps this is the most authentic Arabian spot which still remain as it is.Suddenly I thought about why don’t  I write about what I know about this place. Certainly about those things I found out which I never thought before about this place.

People were always asked me how does this country like. Of course they want to know more than what they have been seen in TV. Their questions going to be like “Is it true that…” or “I heard that…” or something like that.

Well, previously when I heard about Dubai, I was just picturing a Middle Eastern city with a lot of skyscrapers and Arabian community wearing traditional khandura and abaya wandering around (as how they portrayed in movies). But the time I came here, I noticed there were other unexpected things I had never thought about and never been told to me.

Here are some of unexpected things I saw and experienced;

  1. Speaking English never being as complicated as here. I tried to communicate in proper English, but it was ended with I have been ‘forced’ to speak broken English in order to make the others understand. (I wish to write a separate blog for this!)
  2. Well, related to no.1, in some places I rather feel like I am in Karachi, Dhaka or in Manila than in an Arab city. Where all the Arabs have gone? Later I learned that these places have been dominated by foreign workers who live in certain particular area. Thus make them dominant in that place.
  3. Related to no.2, only 20% of population in this country is locals! That means for every local, we are going to see 4 foreigners. This is caused by mass migration of foreigner to this country since 1992. The country needs to import lots of workers for their rapid development. I wonder how does this country going to be when everybody has gone back to their places.
  4. Earlier I thought this is a desert. But I was quite surprised when the temperature goes down to 10 celsius degree in every January. Why I never been told about this? I thought a desert should be sunny! Need thicker clothes urgently.
  5. They told me to forget about bringing umbrella. The rain shall only be twice a year. Yeah, by right. But it was suddenly a thunder stormed rain for a week in November 2008, where whole city got flooded, and so many people were stranded in the middle because we don’t have umbrella.
  6. Address is rarely used, probably because everybody has their own P.O box. Some streets have no name at all. Which mean if we are using delivery service, we have to mention on the addressee by for example, “behind national school” or “the second street after mall turn left”. That could make a longer address in case of the premise is further from main road.
  7. It is a common to see a mall full of gold shops. I mean a mall with about 100 to 200 gold shops, also known here as ‘Gold Souk’. They are about 35 ‘Gold Souks’ around this country. The remarkable thing is that there is not a single security guard can be found in any of this shop. Yet gold robbery never been heard here. Imagine a gold shop in other places (don’t have to mention where) they need CCTV system, alarm system, armed guard, steel grille, 5 layer security and so on and yet still get robbed!
  8. Nobody ever heard about snatch-thieve, or robbery, or car hijacking in this country. Some of local does not know what is snatch-thieve! Literally policemen have not much work to do. Oh yeah! The policemen over here are driving BMW 5 series as their patrol car.  
  9. Nobody seen anybody got to live under the bridge, or put up squatters along railway line, sleeping on footway or anything like that. But sometimes we spent a night sleeping on public bench just to enjoy the weather!
  10. I had never seen a beggar. Probably the only country I ever being without seeing such people.
  11. This is interesting. I was walking passing by a mosque. Then, came a local guy stop his car at the car park and leave it there unattended with the engine still on. Not in worries at all. He went off into the mosque for about 10 minutes, then happily came back to the car, entered and drove away. Nobody touched his car.
  12. We used to pay government tax, entertainment tax, custom duty, 10 percent plus plus and all sorts of tax elsewhere. But over here, everything is just tax free. We just pay the end price is how it shown. 

Maybe there are more, but for now, these are what I can think about. Dear readers, are there anything I left out? Anyway, Dubai is an interesting place.

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Flowers In The Separated Bowl

Story About My Painting - Flowers In The Separated Bowl

This is the painting which I learned about what it meant after 4 years of doing it.

Most of my painting; was done when I need to tell my story. Most of the time; I would just paint without thinking of the meaning. Most of my painting; has no direct image to represent what I was having on that particular time. Most of the time; the colours will comfort me during my bad days.

My friend visited me one day. Greet, sit, drink and chat.  When I talked about my carrier life, later she asked me about this. “ Bro, why don’t you start your own enterprise? You should be able to do a lot of things. People will start looking at you, and you don’t have to rely to the others. How long you have to work for the others. Well you know if you…bla…bla…” (and so on – she keeps on talking with all sort of grandma stories  and doesn’t give any indication that she will give a stop.)

She didn’t wait for my answer before she gave her own. I smiled. (Some people like to talk and unstoppable; just let it being that way.) I waited long enough to give my version. I waited her to finish up telling me what I should have done. As if I had never had that thought in my life.

I lay back, bring back my memories to 4 years earlier. I took out a 4-years old painting and stood it up before the wall, a bit slanted. It is just a very simple painting. This is the painting all about.

“It’s not that I never stand on my own feet” I started to tell my version.

Well, that time I was a freelancer. I had some contact with independent contractors and house builder, doing designing for them to get paid for my living. It being a while for quite few years before things went wrong.

That day was a bad day for me. In fact, a very bad day. I was badly broke. I had many jobs done but people avoiding or refused to pay. Yet, no new jobs in hand.

I was in client’s office sending my last job, very last job. While walking down in a fire staircase exit, there was somebody dumped an old hanging board with a hanger behind it. I brought it home, clean it, skim coated it, and I took out my colours to paint something. I started to paint my story on that board. That was how I comfort myself on what has been happening.

I drew two bowls, next to each others, with flower inside them. One has a Adonis in it. That’s my reality bowl. The other one has Cosmos flower; that’s the bowl with my dream. They are completely separated each another.

I can’t really think why I choose flower and bowl to tell what I was having that time. But when I got that board, they were the things I thought about. 2 separated bowls with Adonis and Cosmos.

I was always thought that I have a principal that I will always stand on my own feet, no matter what it is. I will always on my own. I believe I have talent, and I won’t be like others- life like a modern slave.

I have dreams, but in the other hand, I have reality to face. Sometimes the dream is just next to the reality but yet too far to grab. That time, I realized that it’s the reality where am standing at. 

I knew I have the will, and I have talent, but without luck and enough knowledge, I lost my way. Anyway, I still believe I have talent. But I also believe everything happened for a reason.

Earlier before that, I just got an offer, which I put it on the table. It was a job offer from a firm. I got to make a decision, since the offer doesn’t appear twice. Would I still going on with this hard life to proof myself to the others or give up my principle to join the crowd.

It’s the painting which reminds me of my hard time, the day I decided on my thought.

“You mean, you dropped down your principle that time? Don’t you feel it was a waste of time after losing a lot of time building your name?”

“Sometimes, egoistic has disguised as principle, sis. It’s not we can’t stand on our own feet. But when we are standing, we need strong feet. ” 

My friend  just let me finish up all I wanted to say. But I noticed she was browsing the net on something through the phone.

“Bro, do you know what those flowers in the painting mean?”

“As I told just now, I just paint on what I had in my head”

“See over here, the Adonis means sad memories and humility. And here: Cosmos means peaceful.”

I look at the display on her phone. Try to digest what I read.

“Means I thought been an employee is humiliating and full of sad memories, while being a freelancer is peaceful.”

“Maybe.”

Only after 4 years, I knew what I had painted meant about. What I thought was just spontaneous act, actually has specific meaning on it. Leads me to another thought, how true is the meaning of those flowers. Erm…which flower is telling your situation? Chill…

  

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Colour of My Passion

Story About My Painting - Colour of My Passion

Often I have something to tell, but I can’t really do it in words. I am kind a weak in describing things. That is when I will start to paint.

I will paint to describe how I feel about something. This is a painting about how I feel about my passion.Sometimes, the painting came out not as what I thought from the first place. I thought of something else but as it gets on going, something else came out.

First

I was sitting in a reception of an office, waiting for my turn to be served. I was spending my time watching the peoples passing by. Watching randomly, I saw a guy, walking before me. Empty without emotion. Means, from the face, I could see how empty is it inside his heart. I cant see the heart, but the face is telling the heart all about. Pale without soul. Empty face is what I called.

From the way he dressed I knew he is working 8 to 5. Maybe he get bored of what he is being doing. Maybe he is being forced to do thing. Maybe he is living in a life which he doesn’t want to. Maybe he doesn’t know what he wanted to do. Maybe he only knew about what he was asked to do. Maybe he got no…passion.

Then I noticed, he is not alone. I started to see more and more people with empty faces. People similar to him. One by one passing by. More and more.

But in between them, I also saw people with fresh face. People who his soul is alive. I can’t see the soul, but the face is telling the soul all about. Faces with enthusiasm. Souls with different colours. Faces with soul is what I called.

Second

That day I went back, sitting in my room and questioning myself. Why they looked so empty, why the rest were not.

Then I noticed, it’s the passion in their soul that would make them alive. They are dead without passion in their soul. Living like a robot. Merely a machine to complete a task by their superior. A heartless heart waiting wages at the end of month. They have nothing than that.

I wished that I wont be like them. But how could I know? I see myself through a mirror.

I saw my face, I saw my soul. I drew some line on my soul about what I have and what I want. What I really want. How I wished to be. Finding how could I trigger the passion.

I saw some fire burning. Fire from my mind. Heating up my passion. The emotion emerged.

Third

I took a canvas, and spread some colours. I let my mind goes freely. Try to paint up about my passion. Try to paint up my emotion.

How’s the colour of the passion and what the emotion looks like.

I paint all day till the canvas is fully occupied with colours. Then I sit and see the just painted canvas.

Sitting in a distance. Watching in patience.

Then I noticed, there is something between the strokes. Hidden but peeps out. It was there, but not that obvious. I gave the second thought and it was still there.  I gave the third and it was still there. There is a figure in between the strokes. It was never planned to be there at first place, but now it looks like it is something that could make this whole painting more something.

I added some other tones, bright and brighter to highlight the silhouette. At the end it emerged in harmony with other strokes. A figure, between the burning passions. Just like a re-born soul. A hidden soul lies inside the passion. As the passion starts to burn, the soul rises.

I put the painting on the wall, facing to my bed. So that when I wake up, I will always be boosted up.

This painting is a way for me to remind myself about my passion. I wish to keep this passion burning. I wish my soul will always alive throughout my life.

Do you have passion in your heart? What is the colour you gave to your passion? Chill..

 

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Story About My Painting - In Front of the Door (Shoeless Story In Yemen)

I had told this story somewhere else, but still it is my favourite story ever told to people. Once, I was spending my break in Old Sana’a, Yemen, where I came across with some events. I stayed in a tower house in a place called Az Zumar, which is really old. Some says it has already being 400 years.

There is a street in front of the house which not bigger than an alley. There is where I always saw a kid waiting for me to come out from the big wooden door.

And there he is…the story goes like this.

There was a kid, at his 6. Told me his name is Abdullah. Staying across the street of Az Zumar. Always there waiting. By the front door of the tower house. Waiting in smile.

As azan heard calling for prayer, he knew I will come down from my 5th floor, to walk down to the mosque. He will be waiting by the door. To join for a walk for prayer. Walking in smile.

There it goes every time. He will be waiting, as muazin is calling. Always in smile. Me too, will be expecting him to be standing there each time I opened up the door. He will be waiting to join for a walk.


BUT I noticed something. I saw his bare foot. Every step every beat, walking without shoe. Every time and every day. Abdullah is walking on his bare foot. I dared to ask him about it. He said he don’t have one. Abdullah is shoeless every time and every day.

One day I took him to a stall in the Souk and get him a pair of which he wished to has, by the tag of 600 rial (US4). Abdullah keeps on smiling. I thought it was the end.


But tomorrow he was shoeless again. I demand a reason. He told in smile; the shoe was too nice and hardly suit on him. He went to exchange with his buddy, for a toy of helicopter, which he thought is doing better for him.

I released my breath and said fine; let’s get a cheaper one so that you can’t exchange it with another toy.

*********


As the day goes by, it was time for me to leave. The last day in Sana’a, and time has come to get back to normal life.

With all my stuffs, I opened up the big wooden door. Abdullah was there in front of door. I told him "al-youm soufa arjig ila biladi"(I'm going back to my country). He replied "Fin?"(where's your country). I told him about where I came from, and he asked me is it somewhere in Saudi Arabia? "La, aba'id min Saudia-ba'id jiddan" (It's further than Saudi, far beyond). He asked; is there any other places further than Saudi Arabia? I keep in silent as I didn't know how to describe it.

He asked me; am I coming back anyway? "attamanni bizalik" I replied (let's hope I would).

As I am leaving, I turned back and saw Abdullah with his new shoe. Hoping he would not be shoeless again. Yet Abdullah keep smiling.


I bet, he will stay in dim minded imaging where on earth is the place I came from.

I bet, he will still there waiting by the door the next day, wishing I would come out from the door.

That is the ‘shoeless story in Sana’a’ all about. Chill….

 

Grossary:

Sana’a = capital city of Yemen

Azan = call for prayer

Muazin = the man who call for prayer

Tower house = type of house in Yemen

Souk = market

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I Dreamt of Desert Rose


Story About My Painting - I Dreamt of Desert Rose

Have you ever think of writing down what was in your dream last night? Earlier, I used to forgot them, until some days, I thought I came across with something I saw in my dream. Since then, I always tried to write what I saw. Sometimes I will paint or just draw.

Write or draw, on canvas or on a paper. As long as I won’t get it shattered away without keeping a memory. Hoping someday I will see it again in awaken world. Surreal, yet enlightening.

This is a story about dream. Something seen in the dim. I told some others about it. But they said just forget about it. Still, I believe in what I dreamt. They said it is nice but won’t be more than an illusion. That will never be true. Yet I knew, there is something to be drawn. I took my brushes and start from scratches. Telling my story in the colour patches.

Let them think it is so untrue. Maybe they had never heard about dejavu.

I dreamt of desert rose. Still can recall, the memory had never lost. I saw the rose among the sand. Adorable and never been tanned.

I saw the desert rose. Earlier, I was just unsure. What colour would it be? Will it still be red astonishing? But I recalled it was camouflaged in the dune tone. So that it won’t be easily traced. Everybody else  will thought it is part of sand. Only for some other who searching, will notice.                                                                                 

I feel like the rose is drying in the heat. Blown in the storm. Nothing protecting. But it is still there without deformed. Still blossom in full. In the windy and sunny desert.

I wanted to bring it away from there, wished it is pickable. So that it will keeps in blossom. Protecting from sand and storm. Keeping away from sun and heat.

I believe it won’t be just an illusion. As a mirage for those who in thirst. Trying hard to get something that keeps on moving away. At the end it just an obsession playing in the mind. No, it won’t.

They say, don’t be carried away. But I told, I still believe in my dream. The dream of desert rose. The wish that never lost.

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Story About My Painting - The Old Lady In The Old Tower House In Old Sana'a

This is a story about a Yemeni lady. Perhaps sometimes, something is not as how we thought.There was a time when I was staying in Sana'a, Yemen. It is a historical city housed by heritage buildings. It is a tower house where I spent my stay at the 6th floor. It is an old building, perhaps more than 400 years. The only way to climb up is by stairs. Down and up every time by stairs. No elevator as how modern towers are. It is an old building built by solid stone. Really old.

There was a lady doing the house keeping. She is quite old at about her 60's. She is clad in some colourful cloth, as how the other women in this city. She will be there every morning with broom and cloth to tidy up the whole house, every room on every floor. Old lady, really old.

Sighed. Poor lady. I said. Quietly in my heart. At this stage of age still doing this work. Sure she is having a hard life earning money for living.Don't she should be staying at home. Pitiful.

Climbing the stairs up and down everyday. Sweeping and wiping everyday, so that people could stay there pleasantly.

Someday, sometimes, I would like her to have my tip, if happen I have some change in my pocket. "Tafadhal bakhyish ya sayidah" (Here somethings for you,madam) Sometimes 500 rial (2.5 USD), sometimes 1000 rial (5 USD). I thought by that can put a little smile on her lips.

*******

One day in the late morning, I came back from tuition, when I saw her came out from the tower house. I stopped halfway to see where does she going to. She walked slowly down the alley, and there was a guy waiting for her somewhere in front of the hospital. And they walked to somewhere else.

Next morning, I told her, I saw you with someone. She smiled and told me, it is his son.

I curios, don't your son should have take care of you. Why you still have to work at this stage of age.

She said, it is not because of earning money that makes her coming here every morning. She said she just need to enjoy her life since she still can do something. She can't sits idle. She needs to see the world and mix around. She afraid to have nothing to do.

Further she said, all the tips that she got from everybody, she don't really need those. But don't worry, still there are a lot more needy people. She gave the money to them.

She said, she had never refuse to accept tips but she will always give them to somebody else. So she can keeps 3 people in happy by that way. The person who gave the tip will be happy. The person who will receive it later will be happy. And of cause she would be happy too, to see both of them happy. Every body will be happy at the end to share the goodness. She said, no harm to accept any gift from anybody even though we don't really in need.

One day I decided to keep the memory about this lady in my painting. As well as the old tower house, where I used to spent my stay in.

As the day passed by, I noticed one little thing. It is rare to find fat people here in Sana'a. Everybody keeps themselves climbing stairs everyday. They had made their house tall so that they keep on climbing everyday, no matter how old are them. I compared with where I am staying right now. Fat and overweight is a normal view anywhere. Well....

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Deep In Borneo

Story About My Painting - Deep In Borneo

Once in my life, I wanted to take a break of usual life and take a look at monkey pot...deep in the jungle in Borneo.

I saw a bed of monkey pot. It was the time when i was in Borneo Island. Joining a trail with some friends, to meet up with nomadic native, a tribe called Penan.

It was deep in the jungle in place called Long Seang, which rarely heard even to the locals. We were there to experience the other side of human life.

I saw a bed of monkey pot. It was a long journey indeed, hop off from plane, on 4WD for 6 hours, off road for 2 hours and finally uphill on foot for 1 hour.

It was the time when i saw the monkey pot. The local told me, the monkey pot is a mean of survival. For those living inside here, it is source of water, naturally filtered. In the other side of human life, things might be different than what we used to think.

That day we decide to leave our usual life for something else. Living in the world without mobile phone or android, without lap top and internet, no FB, no McD, no streaming TV, no MP3. with neither bed nor fridge.

We get to experience a slice of their life. We thought they are poor. We thought they are living in nothing.

In the other side of human life, every little things get to the basic. Shall we say they are pathetic. Or instead should they feel pitiful for us.

We are pitiful because we are fragile, cant live without mobile phone, android, lap top, internet, FB, fridge and bed. We cant live without pollution and contamination, artificial flavour and fake colour.

In the other side of human life, they have the whole jungle as their playground. They have rivers for their leisure pool. They have stars for their lights. They dont have to pay for their foods. They dont have to worry about monthly bill and bank installment.

For them, jungle is their life and blood. Without jungle they cant survive. But someday after that I was thinking, can we survive in jungle for more than 2 days?

The day I went back, I kept the memory of staying with them in the painting of monkey pot.

In the other side of human life, things are different than what we used to think. Chill...

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I Had My Breakfast In Magelang

Story Behind My Painting - I Had My Breakfast In Magelang

I was in Yogyakarta, Java Island somewhere in October 2010.There is a place called Magelang. I had my breakfast in Magelang, on my way to the historical site, Candi Borobudur. There is something about the place where I had my breakfast.

I never knew what is the reason behind that desire. My kid's time desire - to see a volcano before my eyes. I had that thought since the time I never knew there has no volcano in my place. But someone used to say, what you think expands. And I kept the desire on my own.

That makes me decided to travel to place where there is a great volcano; Merapi in Yogyakarta. It has never being planned, but at the I met up with a lot more things.

The desire to see a volcano leads me to find some new friends who has the same desire, I get to know some great peoples, brought me to some beautiful hidden places and bumped with unforgettable events.

Unexpectedly it was the time when Merapi erupted. I never thought it could happens at that time. I was there to witness the event. I could never describe it easily. But to see a real volcano erupting, to feel the ash and to smell the smoke, those are unforgettable. And the memory keeps on burning, thence I decided to record that day on these canvas; the day when my kid's desire came true. 

There is a moment in your life where it is an event you ever thought to happen, but you were not sure, till the day you had it.

I had my breakfast in Magelang. Where do you had your breakfast?

Chill...

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Dawn in Bastakiya

Story about my painting - Dawn in Bastakiya

I was always wanted to paint something about this place, something which make me most remember about this place. Then this memory popped out from my mind.

February 2012, one night in Dubai at the end of winter. I was walking alone at a place called Bastakiya. All alone at the corner of the promenade. Obviously I have nowhere to go. I have nothing else to do. Just sitting watching dhows goes by. As the night getting colder, velocity started to perished. Am the only one consorting harbored dhows on the bank of sleeping canal. What I seen is a row of historical houses facing the water front.

I started to realise, how long they has being there, watching the changes of this place. From a humble village to a metropolis city. It is the spirit of time of this place.

A moment in my life, I have nothing else to do except waiting for the sun to appear that day, and chase the cold away. Later I decided to record my feeling through colours on the empty canvas I had long kept. A painting about what I felt on that particular time. A painting about waiting the dawn in Bastakiya as how I am waiting my life to change. Wishing the place to be nice to me.

Chill....

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The Different Kind A Fasting

O Believers, Fasting (sawm) has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, so that you may attain Taqwa (fear of God)
(Qur'an 2:83)

 

This verse establishes that fasting had been made obligatory for all believers, past, present and future, and that the aim behind it is to open their hearts to God and make them more conscious and fearful of Him.

 

Therefore, the principal objective of fasting is to attain and refine this quality of taqwa (fear of God). Fasting, when observed in obedience to God, and in pursuit of His pleasure, instils and revives taqwa in the human heart and acts as a safeguard against evil and wrongdoing.

Islam has taken the lead in reforming the institution of fasting. This was a radical reform in the meaning, rules and purpose of the fast. It made the fast easy, natural and effective. The following are some of the points in this regard:

1. Fasting was a symbol of sadness, mourning, atonement for the sins, a reminder of disasters as well as self - mortification in Judaism and Christianity. Islam radicalized this doom and gloom concept of fasting, into an enlightened concept of triumph over the forces of evil. The month of fasting in Islam is a month of worship Muslims welcome each year with energy and happiness, and are saddened only when the month departs. This is contrary to the atmosphere of mourning. Fasting is for the living.

2. Fasting is not self-denial and punishment of the body and soul, a belief that was wide-spread among the medieval European ascetics. Indeed, there is not such a thing in Islam, nor in the Qur'an or the Sunnah. The laws that govern the institution are not extremely unbearable, the restrictions are not enforced 24 hours every day.

The tradition of sahur is a perfect example. The faster is allowed to delay and eat sahur until he or she is certain that there are just a few minutes before morning prayer. Similarly, when it is time to break fast, the rule is to break as soon as the sun sets, with no delay. Besides, sleeping and resting during the day are all allowed. Working is not stopped and businesses are not closed down for the fast.

In Judaism, working during the period of fast is prohibited. Allah said: "...Allah intends every facility for you. He does not want to put you to difficulties...." (Qur'an, 2:185)

3. Fasting was for special classes of people in the previous religions. For the Brahmin class in the Hindu religion, fasting is mandatory only for the high priests. In the some Latin religions, it is only women who must fast and there are no exceptions.

4. In Judaism, the faster eats only after the break and there is no more food. The Arabs, before Islam, would not eat after sleeping.

Islam, on the other hand, threw away all these human imposed restrictions. Allah said:
"...And eat and drink, until the white thread of dawn appears to you distinct from it's black thread..." (Qur'an, 2:187)

The person who makes a mistake in fasting is not punished, and the one who forgets and eats is forgiven.

5. Fasting in some other religions is based on a solar calendar, like the Gregorian calendar. This demands vast knowledge of calculation and astronomy in the making of a calendar. Besides, the months are fixed in a specific season, they do not rotate or change.

Fasting in Islam is based on the lunar calendar and is tied to the sightings of hilal (crescent), or new moon. Allah states:
"They ask you concerning the new moons. Say: They are but signs to mark fixed periods of time...." (Qur'an, 2:189)

And the Prophet's hadith: "Eat until you see the crescent and break not until you see the crescent. If it is cloudy calculate the period of the month." (Muslim and others)

This enables Muslims in every corner of the earth, east and west, north and south, and all in between, in remote villages, on mountains, in conditions of illiteracy or literacy, in jungles or deserts to start and end the fast all at the same time, without difficulty.

Why the moon instead of the sun as the basis for starting and ending fast? There are several reasons:

The lunar year is about ten or eleven days less compared to the Gregorian. Thus, if Ramadan 1990 began on March 27th, Ramadan in 1991 would begin around March 16th. Consequently, in the course of 36 years, every Muslim would have fasted every day of the year, the short days of the year, the long days of the year, the hot days and the cold days of the year.

Muslims in different regions of the world would have had total equality in the number of days they fasted, and would have had an equal amount of seasonal and climatic changes. They would have an equal amount of cold or mild weather Ramadans.

If the fast were based on the Gregorian calendar, the Muslims in hot summer climates would have Ramadan during hot weather every year, forever. Some Muslims would have fasted long days while others short days, because Gregorian calendar months are fixed and immobile.

There is another interesting reason. Fruits, vegetables for using the lunar calendar and some food items come in certain seasons. Fasting based on the lunar system means we may miss certain fruits in certain seasons, but by the end of the circle a Muslim would have tasted and tried different fruits during Ramadan, whereas fasting based on the Gregorian calendar would have prohibited some fruits during Ramadan, forever.

This is why Muslims did not change the month of Ramadan, nor did they distort it by increasing or decreasing days, nor did they change it to different months.

Enjoy fasting

 
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