Story from My Mother XIII: The invisible fence

Ayat seribu dinar

Ayat Kursi

Title: Story from My Mother XIII: The invisible fence

Yesterday I left 4 old bikes at the verandah near the front door. Three of them were sold already sold on auction website http://www.trademe.co.nz/, but the buyer hasn’t collected and paid yet. They were gone in the morning, all of them. I didn’t expect someone would steal old bikes. Yes I needed to do something about this, but short of building a fence at the front of the property. The three sides of the property is already well fence, six foot high. I cant really afford building fence for the front yard to fully enclose the property. I also don’t have the space in the garage to store my bikes.

I remember my mother told me story that at one time my father’s old bike was missing from under the house, and a few days later it reappear under the power pole by the roadside in front of my parent’s house. Literally, the bike came back.
My mother also told me a story that one day a couple of years ago, she saw 3 men at our land at the back of the house, walking back and forth, to the west, and then walked back to the east more than a couple of times. So she ran back to the house and informed my father. My father simply asked my mother if she had any money, maybe 15 ringgit, and gave the money to them, 5 ringgit each. She did that, and the men walked away sheepishly, leaving behind a sack of coconuts.

I asked my mother, what did she used as ‘pagar rumah’, and she told me that it was ayat kursi, read with the intention to make ‘pagar rumah’ 41 times. First you must get a bucket of water, the best time to do it is after Asr, carry the bucket of water, and splash the water on the ground while reading the ‘ayat kursi’ around the house. You must fully circle the house if possible.
Ayat Kursi

Earlier today I rang my friend and asked him what did he used for ‘pagar rumah’, beside relating that I have lost 4 bikes last night.

My friend told me that he normally does it in this particular order:
Solat hajat.
Read Surah Yasin 7 times, each time you reach the verse ‘kun fayakun’ use both your palm of your hand and thump the ground.
Then in the evening before Maghrib, walk around the perimeter of your house and splash water with your hand in a wide circle as if covering ‘melindungkan’ the area. Read Ayat Kursi, Surah Ikhlas, Surah AlFalaq and Surah AnNas, with Surah AlFalaq given more emphasis, because Surah AlFalaq is to keep away 'sihir', black magic.

It is important to depend solely and ask help from Allah, without even a shred of doubt.
Here is a how to do solat hajat, that I copied from Mohd Sabri Ibrahim:
http://telukvila.blogspot.com/2009/04/ijazah-solat-hajat-dari-guruku.html

2 rakaat;
First rakaat; Fatihah, Ayat Kursi 11x or 21x
Second rakaat: Fatihah, Ayat Kursi 11x or 21x

Or 4 rakaat;
First rakaat; Fatihah, Ayat Kursi 10x
Second rakaat: Fatihah, Ayat Kursi 20x and salam
Third rakaat: Fatihah, Ayat Kursi 30x
Fourth rakaat: Fatihah, Ayat Kursi 40x
After salam read ayat seribu dinar and ask from Allah.
Ayat seribu dinar

InshaAllah, I will do this Thursday night.

NOW, have a happy trip balik kampung. If you leave your house empty, who will keep away the burglar? Only Allah will.

Story from My Mother X: Mecca and Madinah

Story from My Mother X: Mecca and Madinah

1. My parents were very fond of their experience doing the Haj. Even though it was a few years ago, they were talking as if it was yesterday. It was a lifetime trip for them, their one and only trip for the Haj.
Let me go straight to the golden question; yes my father was lost for almost 24 hours in Mina, after the obligatory stone throwing. According to my mother, Basiron, Siti, my father and my mother were walking together, and kept an eye on each other so that they don’t get lost, or fall. But all of a sudden my father was nowhere to be seen, they were searching for my father, but they couldn’t find him. So the best thing for them to do is go back to the tent, report to Tabung Haji representatives and pray. Basiron also rang home, so that everyone in Malaysia would also pray together. 24 hours later, my father found his way back to the tent. He told my mother that someone big and tall, asked him along to go around the stone throwing site more than a couple of rounds, and took him back to the Malaysian tent, “This is your place”

Who was the big and tall man? No one knows.

2. At Masjidil Haram in Mecca, while doing tawaf, a group of people always do the tawaf in group, and walk close to each other. These group of people, when they walk doing tawaf, would push everyone else aside, including old people and the infirm. So watch out, you might get hurt being pushed aside or stepped on.

3. One of the big no-no while you were at Tanah Haram is to say bad things to living things and animals that you came across. There are many cats in Mecca. They would be begging for food at the food courts and dining halls, even in your dorm room. There was a story of man who had some meat set aside on his bed. While he was eating some, one cat came and asked for some, by meowing. He asked the cat to go away, and abuse the cat verbally in the process. When he was gone to the Masjid, a group of cats ripped his bed sheet and his clothes.

4. One of my mother’s roommates had some bananas on the bed. She wanted to eat it later, but a big mouse ate it that night. The woman was pissed off, she said, “Kurang ajar betul tikus tu”. So what happened next? The mouse left a deposit of excrement on the woman’s blanket.

5. The Masjid either in Mecca or Madinah is big. When you enter through one door, do remember which one, and if you are lost, better stay at one place, rather than walking around trying to find your way. A friend of my mother, who lives in the next village, went to hajj with her son. She was lost for 3 days, because she kept on walking, trying to find her own way.

6. There is a cave in Mecca, the Thur Cave, where the Prophet meditated and spent his time before he became Prophet. Any Muslim who is clean spiritually and free of sins, big or small would fit in the cave. But if you are not clean from sins, you wouldn’t fit in.
At the Prophet’s tomb in Madinah, the same thing applies, you may not fit into the door, and if you get in, you may not be able to see the tomb. My mother told me that her companion could get in the door and see the tomb, but that there was no carpet nor prayer mat on the floor. My mother told me that when she came in there was carpet and prayer mat, so she could do her prayer, but her companion only found desert sand on the floor. She asked my mother if she took the prayer mat (sajdah) away. My mother said no, and suggested to her companion that she perform her prayer on the sand.

7. Beware, if you have been a bad person, and hasn’t asked forgiveness from Allah, or Allah has not forgiven you for your past sins, Allah would show His displeasure to you. My mother told me the story of Mbok N* (name withheld, because she is still alive, but couldn’t move anymore) who went to hajj a few years before my mother. She told my mother that in Masjidil Haram she went for tawaf, but couldn’t see Kaaba at all. Yes she went around the Kaaba with others, but couldn’t see the Kaaba. Then at Arafah, for a day and night, she felt that she was in a forest full of duri (nettles) and fiery red ants. She couldn’t sit nor move. The ants were biting her legs. But when the hajj rituals at Arafah finished, she was released from her misery.
I was told by my mother that in her younger days she helped many women who wanted to abort their fetuses, among other things.
“Kalau di uli saja, lama lama kan keluar” my mother said.
“Dia tu sukakan duit, masa dulu dia kenakan bayaran RM600-700 untuk satu kes, jadi ya sauk duit saja” she continued.
I remember all those years ago, she had the reputation as a marriage broker, unmarried men who were looking for a wife would go to her, and she then would visit the families of available unmarried women and asked if any of the unmarried women interested. She acted as the village matchmaker, and charged the groom a couple of hundred ringgits for the privilege. Being a matchmaker is an honourable job in Islam, same like building a mosque/masjid.

8. Tahiron told me of his experience in Mecca. He was at the canteen with his wife, he ordered tea, and his wife ordered Nescafe. But when the drinks arrived, his wife wanted to swap, she wanted the tea instead.
“Habislah, kalau minum Nescafe ni tentu tak boleh tidur” Tahiron said to himself.
That night, after seeing off his wife, and had shower, he went to bed, but he couldn’t sleep. He felf as if a bright light shining to his eyes. He remembered what he said, about not being able to sleep if he drink Nescafe. So he wanted to punish himself that night by going to Masjidil Haram and perform tawaf and sya’ee.
After that, while still at the Masjidil Haram, he saw a group of Indonesian pilgrims kissing and hugging a stone pillar just 10 metres away from him. He was curious, so he asked an Indonesian pilgrim who was passing by.
“Setahu saya, masa saya belajar Haji, tidak ada amalan seperti ini dalam ibadah haji pakcik, amalan apa kah itu?” Tahiron asked, as far as he knew, there is no ritual like the group of Indonesians was doing in Hajj.
Do not follow them, or come near that pillar, the old man said. What they were doing was wrong, if do what they do, a Djinn will follow you back to your homeland. That pillar is Djinn’s pillar, the man continued.
Tahiron went back to his hotel room, and before he arrived at his room he was already so sleepy.

On the last day before he departed for home, Tahiron joined Isha prayer at Masjidil Haram. He was at the front of the Kaaba, and was talking to an old Indonesian man. He explained to me that the lights at the Masjidil Haram are so bright, that you couldn’t see the night sky. The old Indonesian man explained to him that if you can see the moon than the evening star (Mars) while you were at Masjidil Haram, there is a very good chance that your wish would be granted by Allah. He looked up to the night sky, and to his surprise he saw the moon and the evening star between two minarets. So he showed them to the old man, and the old man said that he wish to see the imam, Sheikh Sudais. To his surprise shortly after that came an Arab policeman telling him to move aside and brought along a large prayer mat, then another one bringing microphone set. The microphone system at Masjidil Haram has 5 microphone at top at standing height, 3 in the middle, rukuk height and 3 at the bottom, for sujud. He said Sheikh Sudais is not a large person, of a small stature, about 5’ 4”. So that Isha prayer they both had the privilege of performing prayer right behind the Imam Sheikh Sudais.

Story from My Mother IX: Orang Bunian

Story from My Mother IX: Orang Bunian

I heard Orang Bunian stories a few times; the first time was when I was a kid. Pak Harun, a bank worker bought a land in our village. Apparently there was an Orang Bunian family living at the back of his land. One day the Orang Bunian man met Pak Harun, and welcomed him. The Orang Bunian appeared just like a normal person, wearing songkok, shirt and kain pelikat. He enquired about Pak Harun’s family, and wished each other happiness and well being. Apparently the Orang Bunian didn’t like the previous owner of the land, because he was panas baran type and beat up his wife and children.

What surprise me was that I do not know that I have Orang Bunian as a neighbour all these years. (see picture) The place is overgrown with nipah, bananas trees and coconut trees, cool and ummh, scary. Sometimes you would see ayam hutan, (jungle fowl) fly into the undergrowth to hide. The other day I saw monkeys there.
Azman is my mother’s new neighbour, he had just moved in a few months ago. After he settled down, the story was that an old couple, about sixties came over and introduced themselves as Azman’s neighbour one night. When asked where did they live, because Azman hasn’t seen them before, they just casually said, “Situ ha, seberang jalan tu” (Just over there, across the road). Azman told my parent and Tahiron about it.
Tahiron said, “Orang Bunian tu tunjukkan diri dia pada selected type of people only, jenis orang yang baik atau orang yang jahat. Jenis orang yang tahap nafsu dia tinggi, bukan macam jenis kita, jenis nafsu amarah ni.”

The other picture, of a piece of land, cleared and abandoned. I was told that the plan was to build a football stadium (a small one) at the site. When the land was cleared to this stage by the contractor, a delegation of Orang Bunian meet Tok Sidang of my village and complained that their village is being destroyed by the contractor. The Orang Bunian went further by issuing threat that if the contractor doesn’t stop, someone will be killed there. Tok Sidang had no choice but to stop the project.

One time, a villager close to that site had a kenduri kahwin. Towards the evening, when there were fewer guests, a van came. The people were wearing green, ie green shirt, green trousers and green songkok. Some of them speak Javanese fluently, while some of them speak Malay. Then even give money gifts just like what people normally do in these parts of Selangor. Like normal guests to a wedding, they were served with rice and beef rendang and traditional kuih. But then the host went inside to got something, when he came out again, they all disappeared, gone. Sure the house owner knew that they were Orang Bunian.

Story from My Mother IIX: Harimau

Story from My Mother IIX: Harimau

Last night I went to Sg Haji Dorani with Tahiron. He was picking up his Kancil car, being repainted at body workshop over there. In the car, I suggested to Tahiron, “Why don’t we tell scary stories, to scare the kids eh?”
I started by telling the story that Husin told my mother he saw a tiger at the entrance of my parent’ house and at the front porch.
“Kau tahu tak si Husin tu sebenarnya penakut tau, laki bini.” He said.
“Satu masa tu, ada burung jampuk ber bunyi kat belakang rumah, dia kata hantu pocong” he continued. He said that night he was at Dewan Orangramai, involved in a some party work. He got a call from Husin, saying there was a strange sound at the back of Tahiron’s house. Tahiron came back home, and when the bird made another sound Husin rang Tahiron. (They live a stone throw away from each other)
“Oh itu bunyi yang kau takutkan, itu bunyi burung jampuk lah” Tahiron said.
“Aku boleh keluar halau burung tu” so he went out and shooed the bird away.

Then he told me another story, happened circa 1970. He was still young boy back then, learning to read Quran, mengaji, at Pak Kiyai Abdul Gafur’s surau. He didn’t have torchlight back then, using andang instead, made of dried coconut leaves tied together, so that it would burn slowly, and would light up the way home.
On the way home, at the bend, where the kekabu tree and rubber tree was, Tahiron saw a cattle, red in colour. So when he got back home, he told his brother, Mat Isa. Then Mat Isa called my father, and they equipped themselves with parang (machete) and a length of rope to catch the cattle. My father went first, with his rope and parang, the ideas was probably to catch the cattle and put the rope on the cattle’s neck, and then call on the others to help pull the cattle.
But instead my father ran back very fast, and short of breath, without his parang or rope.
“Apahal, pakcik?” asked Tahiron.
“Harimau!” said my father.
The next morning they checked the site, the footprint and some tiger fur was still there.

Then he told me another story about an old woman in the village, who was related to him by marriage, Mbah Tri. Mbah Tri had a difficult death, it took weeks, most of the time there was croaking sound coming out from her throat. As if the Malaikat Maut trying to pull her life from her throat, but something holding back. Kiyai Haji Abdul Gafur taught Tahiron that if someone practised an ilmu salah, like keeping saka or djinn, he/she would have difficult death, and if you hold on his/her toe with your hand, he/she would stare at you. Tahiron did that, and sure enough Mbah Tri stared at him. So Tahiron went to see Kiyai Marwan (now arwah) in Sabak Bernam asking for help. He was given a bottle of water by Kiyai Marwan (for the dying woman to drink) and told to open one of the zinc roof sections above the dying woman so that it’s open to the sky above. Sure enough the next night (or was it day?) Mbah Tri died.
That night when Tahiron came home, he heard tigers mengaum all night around his house.

My mother confirmed the story; she also added that when Mbah Tri was dying, her daughters took turn to take care of her. Mbok Patonah (now arwah), one of her daughters related to my mother that every night there were always big snakes coming in to the house. Mbok Patonah was afraid to sleep on the floor, she slept on the bed. She wasn’t sure if that was real snake or whatever. When she asked Mbah Tri, she dismissed it lightly, “Biarlah ular to saja nak merayau”
What Mbah Tri had was a stone the size of teacup, wrapped in cotton cloth, the type that people used for kain kafan. What is in the stone, nobody knows. After Mbah Tri died, the stone was taken by one of her daughters, Mbok Minah, who got sick and also died. In fact, three of Mbah Tri’s children died not long after her, Pak Mat Dhoho, Mbok Minah and Mbok Sikat. Mbok Sikat had sickness after sickness and at some stage she would just stare at the sky for ages. In the end, one of Mbah Tri’s children, Pak Sidek, took the stone and threw it away to the sea.
Then my mother said that there is a possibility that the stone was taken from Mecca, Tanah Haram. She told me that in Mecca, there is a stone pillar called Tiang Ungu. If you wrap your hand around it while facing away from Mecca and snuggle on it, you will get rich when you get back to your homeland, because you would bring back Toyol.
My mother told me that it’s forbidden to bring anything back from Mecca, small stones, mugs and plates that’s being used to serve the hajjis there, or even rubbish. All those small stones and sands that is stuck to your shoes has to be picked off and/or washed away, or simply leave your shoes behind.
But if you buy things there and bring it home, that’s okay.

Story from My Mother III

Story from My Mother III

Yesterday was Friday 2nd Jan. My mother asked me to drive her to town, she wanted to do some shopping at Kedai Janggut opposite the post office. Kedai Janggut is a sundry shop selling provisions, the owner was a Chinaman sporting long white beard, hence janggut. I remember the man back 20 years ago, but these days a Chinese woman is running the shop, probably his daughter. Four years ago, when I was back here, my father also likes to do his shopping at the shop. I accompanied him a few times then. I dropped off my mother at the shop, and then drove off to the ATM machine a block away. When I got back, she has finished her shopping. My mother told me the reason she shopped there is to ask if my father owed them any money. No he didn’t.
Perhaps I shall give some background here. Most businesses in rural Malaysia also act as small time bankers to the villagers. Most people in rural Malaysia have no fixed income. Even if they have regular work drawing salary, their incomes are small. Worse, most of them have big families, and virtually nothing is free, not even healthcare, kids education and welfare for the poor and disabled. Yes, since a few years ago, the Govt has been providing welfare payment to the very core poor, but it just cover the basic, RM150 a month for a single person. Nowadays Govt also provide for basic housing for single mothers, disabled and old people under PPRT (project perumahan rakyat termiskin), but if that single mother/widow has full grown able bodied son/s, she is also not qualified.

So these small businesses, ie sundry shops extend credit to the poor, just to tide the over in the form of groceries etc. As lender, they are also nice and forgiving, they don’t ask for your money every time you visit their shop, but your record is kept in a small notebook (the so called buku tiga-lima 555).
Why would you extend credit on your goods without any collateral? Its goes back to the culture of the people. For Malay Muslims, all debts must be paid, unless forgiven. The Muslims believes that in the Hereafter, at Padang Mahsyar, all our good deeds will be counted; the bad deeds will be deducted from that. If you owe any debt to anybody, the person will come to you asking for the loan back. That day you will have no money, except your good deeds.
So he/she will say to you, “if you have no money, let me have some of your good deeds, enough to cover for your debt to me on Earth.” So you will have to pay back your debt with your good deeds. What if you have no good deeds left? Well, you will have to take on his/her sins/bad deeds instead. That is why when a man passed away; his relatives and children will find out if he owes any money to anyone and will settle the loan for him.

So in a sense, extending credit to Malay Muslims is no risk. Only that it will take time to get your money back. Tahiron told my mother that the Chinaman who buys the palm oil fruit from my father gave loan of RM100 to my father, to be counted against the next sale of palm oil fruits. My mother told me that the price of palm oil fruit has fallen from a high of RM800 per tonne, down to RM250 today.

Back to the story of selective welfare help. Kak Tuminah, neighbour has 3 school going kids, she has also 3 adult sons. Her husband Anuar died about 4 years ago. He didn’t left her with much, just an acre around the house, an acre of rice field and the old dilapidated house. Two of her adult sons are working, Khairul works in Shah Alam, getting about RM800 a month and Izam works at car accessory factory, getting about RM600 in a good month, working on piece/work done basis. She didn’t get anything from JKM (welfare), the reason given is that she has adult sons to take care of her. She cant work, she has 3 school going kids. What she get this year from Baitul Mal(wang zakat) is RM500 to help with cost of sending her children to school. Nothing else. She told my mother at times like this, when money needed to buy school shoes and books, she would cry herself, because there is nothing to pay for those expenses.

Story From My Mother

Story from my mother.
The flight from Gold Coast was uneventful. We arrived at LCCT KLIA on time. Got off the plane, walked on the tarmac to the terminal building, passed the immigration and custom in record time. The custom didn’t even look at me, I just walked pass.
Outside my brother Kholid and his wife Saripah was waiting for me. He drove to KL to his mother inlaws place at Taman Melewar, Gombak. Its was maghrib when we arrived at Gombak. I was offered tea, and dinner of rice, omelette, tomyam and some petai.
Kholid lend me his Kancil car for me to drive back to Tanjong Karang.
Kholid told me that the day before he died, ie on Sunday, my father asked my youngest sister, Noraziati Khairiah to go for a drive with him. He showed her places that was dear to him, and told her stories from his old days. Like where his friends was etc. They didn’t go out for long. So the day when he died, it was very much a surprise for my sister. She was the first to be back in the village, and she stayed at the cemetery until midday.
Yes I managed to drive safely, albeit with a little bit of almost mishap near home. Malaysians do drive fast, and sometimes with annoying headlight on high beam. Small wonder that accident rate is very high.
That almost mishap was my not recognising the entrance to my parent street. I turn in into somebody’s property, and at the last second I stopped and moved back to main street. I didnt know that someone was following me close behind. He honked me. I ignore him and continue on to my parent street, but he followed me close behind, honking and flashing headlight. When I stopped, I said hello to his father at the passenger seat. I said sorry, and we parted company.
I arrived at my parent’s place close to11pm.

My mother told me that my father seems okay the previous few days before he died. She told me that on Saturday my father asked my mother to go to market to buy rice, because the grandchildren will be coming on Monday. 5kg rice bag wouldn’t be enough; it has to be 10kg. It seems that my father knows the day when he would die. That Saturday he also went to the market with my sister, to buy foodstuff.
My mother told me that she couldnt understand why the grandchildren would all be coming on Monday, when they already came that day and gone back to the city. Now she figure out that my father knows that Malaikat Maut is coming on Monday.
Sunday was the day when Kak Tuminah, our neighbour had walimah for her son, Izam. My father stayed home, but my mother went to the wedding in the morning, coming back to check on my father twice. He was okay. My brother offered to take him to hospital to get medication for his heart and stayed at the ward for observation, but my father refused. He said its difficult to do prayers at the hospital, and they ignore him there anyway. He preferred to be home.
Monday around 2pm 22Dec, his heart giving him trouble. Tahiron came to take him to hospital, but my father refused. He doesn’t want to go anywhere. The Tahiron called for ambulance, they are expected to be over in 10 minutes. My mother was with my father at the time. She taught my father to say Shahadah, and followed, first time in audible voice, the second time barely audible, and by the third time, he was gone.

My sister Maslina told me that when she got home at 7pm, he has been washed/ghusl and wrapped in kafan ready for the burial in the morning.