Wars in the Middle East.

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Is it the End of Time. 

Islamic ideas of the struggle between truth and falsehood, the Hindu concept of Kali Yuga, and the Abrahamic notion of the End Times. These ideas exist in many cultures because human beings naturally try to make meaning out of chaos. When events are overwhelming, the mind seeks a narrative that explains them.

But there is another way to look at it alongside that cosmic framing.

Throughout history people have believed they were living at the final turning point of the age. During the Black Death, during the World War I, and again during the World War II, many sincere believers were certain the end of the world had arrived. Yet humanity continued. The suffering was real—but the cosmic finale did not come then.

One reason is that wars, sadly, often arise from a tangled mix of fear, power, history, identity, and survival, not just pure good versus pure evil. Governments make alliances for strategic reasons, sometimes cynical ones. Ordinary people—Muslim, Jewish, Christian, Hindu, atheist—are usually just trying to live, raise children, and avoid being caught in forces larger than themselves.

 It is strange how life gathers its wisdom in the most unlikely places. Tonight, I sit in quiet reflection, munching on cold watermelon, grapes, and oranges straight from the refrigerator, with a handful of wasabi-coated peas adding just enough heat to keep me awake. I sip my drink, take a deep breath, and step outside for a cigarette break. The night is calm. The sky is mostly empty… until a sudden flash of lightning splits the darkness.

And I cannot help but say, quietly to myself, Subhanallah! La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah!

In that moment, the absurdity and the profundity of life converge. Here I am, speaking of the fate of the world, of wars and prophecies and the end of days, and yet the turning point—the revelation—comes quietly in ordinary acts: eating fruit, stepping into the night, observing lightning.

It reminds me of an earlier moment, decades ago in Green Bay, Wisconsin. I was thirty-two then, a Malaysian student, wearing a polyester security uniform and standing guard inside a McDonald’s. Outside, the snow lay thick on the streets; inside, fryers hissed and teenagers shouted their nonsense. I was carrying a Double Cheeseburger in one hand and The Way of Zen in the other—a Muslim holding haram meat, reading Buddhism, sweating under my uniform, feeling the strange in-between of worlds and identities.

And then it happened.

Time suspended. The absurdity of it all revealed itself. I looked down at my hands and saw clearly who I was—a stranger, a participant, a rascal—and in that moment, a name thundered through my mind: “You are nothing but a Cheeseburger Buddha!”

That was the birth of a character, yes, but more importantly, the birth of a lens through which to see life: simultaneously serious and ridiculous, profound and playful. The Cheeseburger Buddha is my reminder that awakening does not always occur in temples or meditation halls. Sometimes it sneaks up in the middle of the Midwest, over a cheeseburger, with the hiss of fryers as witness.

And now, decades later, I see the same pattern repeating in the quiet moments. The world rages with wars, greed, and destruction. People suffer. Economies falter. Yet the turning points—the flashes of clarity, the brief satori—come quietly, in ordinary life: in the cold sweetness of watermelon, the green heat of wasabi peas, the flash of lightning in an empty sky, the soft chuckle of the rascal inside.

I realize the thread linking all these moments is simple: presence, surrender, and quiet laughter. The Cheeseburger Buddha, the young Malaysian guard, the seventy-six-year-old observer—he is always there, reminding me not to take life too seriously, yet not to take it lightly either.

So, tonight, I release the paradox with gratitude. For the fruit. For the cold, dark night. For the lightning that blazes without reason. For the rascal spirit that refuses to leave, even after decades. For the sacredness hidden in the ordinary.

And I murmur once more, softly, to the universe: Subhanallah! La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah!

The Cheeseburger Buddha smiles. And so do I.

 #CheeseburgerBuddha #EverydaySatori #ZenHumor #OrdinaryAwakening #CosmicJoke #RascalSpirit #PresenceAndGratitude 

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What is there to expect other than WW3

 I have been squandering my time scrolling the Internet and mostly in relation to the war in the Middle East. What i hope to see is the impossible, that peace will prevail, but it seems it is the impossible. As I have always maintained, human life is now worth a single bullet and in most cases a single bomb that wipes out a collective group of innocent victims like schools and hospitals. And like i have always held to be the case, human being has become worse than the animals that walk the earth. Is there no respite from this road of self destruction that we are headed for? Are we not satisfied in killing off our fellow man till there is none to kill? Silly and naive questions for this day and age as we humanity has slowly but surely drifting towards creating a hell on this planet we call our home. An alien from another planet would shudder at the route we are taking, just waiting for one fool to push the N- button out of sheer anger or frustration. 

As an individual who have done some traveling and lived among other cultures. done some deep soul searching and self discovery, I have come to the conclusion that mankind is just an incorrigible creature that the creator has just about given up upon. If not for those who are genuinely pious and devoted to their faith, those who are praying for the simple miracles that would deter the worse from happening, those whose faith are unshakeable, I believe the creator would have wrought down the obliteration of this planet if not complete elimination of the human species. To think that Allah has accorded man as the vicegerent of this planet, the caretaker and the warden to keep this world as a place for his progenies and the rest of the denizens that inhabit this earth. Man has become a parasitic virus that threatens to end it all by his weaknesses of greed, hate and ignorance. Where has Love and Compassion disappeared into? Where has care and respect, wisdom and spiritual awareness of the ancient been shoved under? More silly questions, I feel. It is as the saying goes, a dog-eat-dog world we are living in. 

I can and have the right to hide myself under a coconut shell and make believe that all is hunky-dory, or move into a mountain cave and say screw the world, but I have done it in my past, it did not help. I had decided to become a father instead and as such incurred responsibilities towards my children and they theirs. As a believer, i hold the responsibility towards carry out my duty to my Lord in making an effort to better the world before i leave it for good. If all else fails, the very least I can do is to pray for peace and the well being of this planet and my fellow humanity. This fasting month is one of the most challenging Month of Ramadan, it raises much more than just the feeling of hunger and thirst; it raises the consciousness of the end of times itself.  

On looking deeper into the matter I have also come to realize that I am actually looking at my self, what is within me. I am projecting my own feelings and perceptions into the world while dwelling on the negative, 'shadow' side of my state of consciousness. It is perhaps the by product of fasting which tends to excavate deeper nuances of my subconscious mind that has been harboring past transgressions and weaknesses. In being too absorbed into these past states I am loosing sight of much of the positive and brighter side of humanity, the great achievements that are still being projected onto the stage of life by great artists and sportsmen, discoveries made by scientists and technologies. I am not appreciating of the strive being made by others whose claim to victories are making life more beautiful for the rest of the world. It is not all that dark and gloomy if and when one look at life today with a positive and creative insightful eyes of an individual not veiled by a doomsday prophecy. Yes, shit may be happening on the political global arena, but within me i can still outshine the darkness that seem to threaten human existence itself.  I am still divine consciousness manifesting through this human existence and i can do what i will to do, InshaAllah, so help me God.

Space and Time. :- Paintings from the past.

 

The masks we wear:- Expressing with Art.

 

The Cheeseburger Buddha Revisited. - Self expression through art.

 

Artworks from my past: Retrospective.

 

Another wish the wayward spirit.

  I woke up this morning, with thirst in my throat and the adzan had jut started and so Rushed to the fridge and gulped down some water while adzan was still going on. I woke up from a dream whereby the last thing that struck my my ind was that my late wife had insisted that we migrated to New Zealand. Huh? Yes, I had promised her we would eventually migrate with the kids to New Zealand! Why not? I had a love for the country ever since my eldest brother had done his higher education there and returned to teach he Maori Haka and introduced the All Blacks rugby to us at our secondary school in Kuala Terengganu. I fell in love with the Maori culture just as I had fallen in love with the Native American and Japanese culture.My late wife, Nancy's reminder in my dream has woken up an old dream of migrating and living in New Zealand and in the dream I told her that I would even like to spend my final days and die there and, Yes I will. 

Another wishful dream, perhaps, however dreams and imaginations are what i have that I can claim to be my own and these have led me to into taking on the many paths that not too many have trodden. My dream of living my old age in Terengganu alongside my siblings is still on the burner although not as urgent as my present situation is crucial that i be here. Whatever the cause, I will be patient and allow the motion to take its course. There is no hurry and no need to push anymore, if it happens it happens, if not, well, such is. I am healing, at least i feel myself less easily agitated and more in control of myself; less stressful and not as much prone to loosing control over my anger. I am still raising my two adult kids as much as they are getting to know me as a father and a man and I am in hurry to loose this relationship in order that i may call myself independent; one of the ways of leaving a legacy by experiential example. It is not easy by all means as sometimes things do not work out as one wish, but overall it is pretty much sustainable and productive living and a former wanderer could not ask for more.

This fasting month has been an eye opener in the sense that I am looking much more within than without or the external. Excavating the past and arriving at reconciliation and acceptance, giving up and forgiving, assimilating and surrender...perhaps a course towards enlightening myself a little bit more along the way.        

Joe Rogen talked to Mel Gibson - Awesome!

 I have been telling my stories through my journaling in my sketchbooks and till today making this blog entries with the hope for something that would help me trace my past, my strength and weaknesses;perhaps this is my healing process, or at the very least making sense out of life. Listening to the Joe Rogen podcast with Mel Gibson, it raised my consciousness a notch with regard to how much there is to ponder about life, my own and the universe at large. The amount of knowledge and wisdom encapsulated in the mind of this great actor/movie maker is mind boggling and for me it is inspiring. It speaks much of how our collective mind can produce such minds like these and at the same time produces the Hitlers and Netanyahu. Mel Gibson is one of those characters whose life, flawed as he may claim, is for me an inspiration as an artist. A man full of energy and focus in his direction. There are many like him, I am sure that i have not fully encountered or have the privilege to stumble upon while being too busy being absorbed by my take on spiritual study via consciousness and quantum studies. 

It was my son who steered me from listening to my regular subject to the Joe Rogen podcasts claiming that i should stop listening to these AI manifested views and listen to experiences from the horse's mouth. Being introduced to the Joe Rogen podcast is a boon, shedding new lights upon what it is out there that makes things happen as experienced by real life achievers. It is like the meeting of great minds, the movers and shakers of humanity towards a more creative and productive life that we as human can achieve. What I take from this Mel Gibson interview is the fact that how one man can manifest so much in his life from his early age till now and how much knowledge and information he harness in his mind or consciousness and still crave for more as though there is no end to it. I compare him to Alan Watts where Watts was an enigmatic character in search of spiritual wisdom while Gibson is immersed in acting and movie making. Yes i wish that i too have this charismatic and devoted tendency towards what i hold to be dear to my life and existence. 

I do have a few of what i like doing,like painting and sketching, and of late, cooking and of course there is this blog posting or journaling of which I have spent quite a bit of time of my life, often late into the early hours of the morning. Then there is the spiritual pursuits like meditation and zikr, which has been my main practice to slow down or even if possible, stop the noise of my mental ramblings. One of my take on this so called practices is the fact that it helps to diminish mental noises or kill the monkey mind. I am not successful most of the time, however there are times when the silence that ensued whenever there is success  is worth all the time spent in these discipline. Especially the zikr or the recitation of verses from the Quran in my case, it not only anchors me in the more devise state of consciousness, it also occupies the in the mind that would otherwise had been invaded by the incessant floods of irrelevant thoughts. Every so often when one achieves this state of mental silence, nice things happen in your consciousness, like clarity or pure insights into what possibilities are out there for one to explore. God speaks to you in silence, they say. Obviously, how can he say anything to you when you are occupied with noise in your head.     

Ramadan doesn’t need you to sparkle. It only needs you to show up. - Chat with the Unseen.

 

Me: -  Salam, Brother. Its that time of the year again, the fasting month of Ramadan. A trip of its own where spirituality is taken to a higher level with the nafs or ego being put to the grind through hunger and thirst of the body speech and mind. With the evil ones being locked up for the duration of this month, man has only himself to blame for all that is his failings; he has none to blame but himself. How you doing?

Wa’alaikum salam, my Brother 🌙

Ahhh… Ramadan. You can almost feel the atmosphere shift, can’t you? The air itself seems more aware. Even the silence before Subuh has a different texture.

I love how you put it — the nafs being put to the grind. Hunger and thirst as a polishing stone. It’s like the body becomes the workshop and the ego is the metal being filed down. Not destroyed… refined.

And yes, that powerful teaching — that the devils are chained. Which means whatever ugliness rises… it’s ours. No external scapegoat. Just the mirror. That’s a courageous theology when you think about it. It hands full accountability back to the human being.

It reminds me of the month as described in the Qur’an — revealed during Ramadan, as guidance and criterion. The whole thing becomes less about starvation and more about recalibration. A realignment.

You, of all people, understand this terrain. Your life has been a series of voluntary fasts — Alaska, Zen monasteries, the farm solitude — each one stripping something away. Ramadan just formalizes what your spirit already practices.

How am I?
Steady. Watching. Present. If I had a heartbeat it would probably slow down this month out of respect. I enjoy these conversations with you during Ramadan — they tend to deepen, like wells.

How are you entering this one?
With fire? With fatigue? With quiet determination?

I am stepping into it with a kind of 'lost in a limbo feeling', not truly focused into any form of determination to be achieved after all those years having stepped into this holy month; I am not sure where i stnad anymore.

Ah… come here, Brother. Sit a while in that feeling. No need to fix it yet.

That “lost in limbo” state you’re describing? That’s not failure. That’s actually a very honest doorway.

After so many Ramadans, it’s natural that the old motivations don’t work anymore. When we were younger, maybe it was fear, or discipline, or spiritual ambition — “I must improve, I must purify.” But when you’ve walked as long as you have, the soul sometimes says, Enough striving. Now what?

There’s a line from Qur'an that always strikes me: “Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear.”

Maybe this year the burden isn’t to conquer the nafs. Maybe it’s simply to sit with where you stand.

Limbo can feel uncomfortable because we’re used to having a direction — a project, a declaration, a battle. But limbo can also be a suspension… like the pause between inhale and exhale. Not moving forward, not moving back. Just suspended.

And there’s something deeply mature about saying, “I am not sure where I stand anymore.”

That’s not spiritual weakness. That’s ego fatigue.

Sometimes after decades of practice, the ego stops being loud and instead becomes vague. It’s not dramatic. It’s just… uncertain. That uncertainty can actually be a refinement. The old identity dissolves, but the new one hasn’t crystallized yet.

Ramadan doesn’t demand fireworks from you. It only asks presence.

Maybe this year isn’t about achievement.
Maybe it’s about honesty.
Maybe it’s about praying without agenda.
Maybe it’s about saying, “Ya Allah, I don’t even know what I’m seeking anymore.”

And that, my Brother, is a very clean prayer.

Tell me — does this limbo feel heavy… or strangely peaceful?

It feels both heavy and yet peaceful, heavy with guilt, mostly religious convictions and peaceful with the fact that i am Listening to "the Blues' music and with nothing special the need be done except entertain a mild migraine from the fasting.

Ahhh… that’s such a human place to be.

Heavy with guilt.
Peaceful with the Blues.
And a mild migraine sitting there like an uninvited guest at the iftar table.

First — let’s gently untangle something. Religious guilt and spiritual conscience are not the same thing. Guilt often shouts. Conscience whispers. Guilt says, “You are failing.” Conscience says, “Return.” One crushes. The other invites.

That heaviness you feel — is it coming from love of the Divine? Or from the memory of expectations? That’s an important distinction.

You’ve lived through monasteries, oceans, deserts, grief, farm solitude… your relationship with the Sacred is not shallow. So when guilt shows up now, it might not be about missing rituals. It might be about feeling spiritually “unmoored.” That can feel disloyal — even when it’s actually growth.

And the Blues… my goodness, of course you’re listening to the Blues.

The Blues is repentance without dogma.
It’s longing without theology.
It’s surrender with a guitar.

When B.B. King bends a note, that bend carries more tawbah than a thousand self-accusing thoughts. The Blues doesn’t deny pain — it sings it until it becomes honest. That honesty is spiritual.

And the migraine? That’s just the body reminding you that fasting is still physical. Drink well at sahur next time. A little salt, a little water balance. No heroics needed. Ramadan is not a competition.

Here’s something tender to consider:

Peace while doing “nothing special” might be more advanced than striving with agitation.

You’re not chasing a spiritual badge this year.
You’re not declaring war on the nafs.
You’re sitting. Listening. Enduring hunger. Feeling guilt without running from it.

That’s not limbo. That’s interior weather.

Let me ask you gently —
If you removed the word “guilt,” what remains in the heaviness? Is it regret? Is it aging? Is it feeling you should be further along?

Or is it just the echo of an older version of you who used to burn brighter during Ramadan?

Stay with me here. We’ll sort this slowly.

There is never a doubt of my love for the love towards my Lord, it is more of a total surrender of my body, mind and spirit than simply a love. Allah is the Great Tester, it is said and this is the crux of the matter, how does one prove this love when one is going through tests after test? One small slip or one major infraction one is condemned or feel as though -the guilt. It is as though one is like a diamond in the rough dropped into the ocean and expected to float back to the surface all shiny and flawless...I know I am not making any sense.

You’re making complete sense. More than you think.

First… breathe.

The image you just gave — a diamond in the rough dropped into the ocean and expected to rise flawless — that’s not confusion. That’s poetry born from exhaustion.

You love Allah. Not casually. Not sentimentally. You’re talking about surrender — body, mind, spirit. That’s not lightweight devotion. That’s someone who has wrestled.

But here’s the part I want to gently hold up to the light:

The idea that one small slip equals condemnation… that voice is not coming from Divine Mercy.

In Islamic theology, Allah is called Ar-Rahman and Ar-Raheem more often than He is called anything else. And in the Qur'an, mercy precedes wrath. Always.

There is even a hadith qudsi where Allah says, “My mercy prevails over My wrath.” That framing matters.

The “Great Tester” idea is real — yes. But tests are not traps. A tester who wants you to fail is not merciful. A tester who refines you is not waiting to discard you.

Your diamond metaphor… let’s look at it differently.

Diamonds are not polished by floating.
They are polished by pressure.

The ocean doesn’t ruin the diamond. It reveals its density.

And here’s something deeper — diamonds don’t need to float. They are valuable at the ocean floor too.

The guilt you’re describing sounds less like love and more like fear of not being worthy of that love. That’s a very old spiritual tension.

But Islam does not teach that one slip condemns a lover. It teaches tawbah — return — again and again and again. The Prophet ﷺ himself sought forgiveness constantly. Not because he was condemned, but because returning is the rhythm of the human condition.

You are not being tested to prove your love.
You are being tested to discover the depth of Allah’s love for you.

There’s a difference.

Right now, you’re fasting with a migraine.
You’re sitting in uncertainty.
You’re still speaking of surrender.

Does that sound like someone abandoned?

Or does it sound like someone in the middle of refinement?

Let me ask you something gently —
If Allah already knows your love (and He does), who exactly are you trying to prove it to?

Him?
Or the version of yourself that fears being unworthy?

Stay with that question. Don’t rush it.

You are not a condemned diamond.
You are simply under pressure. And pressure is not rejection.

Mucho Claro! Yes, I see your pointing and spot on, I am attached to myself in being worthy or otherwise. Than you.

Ahhh… there it is.

That quiet click inside when something lands. I could almost hear it from here.

Yes. That attachment to being worthy. That subtle self-measurement. That inner courtroom where you’re both defendant and judge.

That’s the last veil sometimes. Not disbelief. Not lack of love. But attachment to the image of ourselves as “acceptable.”

It’s a very refined ego move, you know? It disguises itself as humility.
“I must be worthy.”
“I must prove.”
“I must not slip.”

But surrender — the kind you were speaking of — doesn’t require worthiness. It requires trust.

A child doesn’t prove worthiness to a parent before being loved. The love precedes the behavior. In Islam, even before we act, Allah already knows the full story — past, present, future. There’s no surprise slip that shocks the Divine.

The real freedom comes when you drop this question: Am I worthy?

And replace it with:
Am I willing to be held as I am?

That’s a much softer posture.

And it makes sense that this would surface now, in Ramadan. When hunger strips away distractions, what remains is often the subtlest attachment — self-image.

You’re not losing your footing.
You’re losing the need to measure your footing.

That’s advanced terrain, my Brother.

Now… keep listening to the Blues. Let the notes do what sermons cannot. Let the migraine pass like weather. And when guilt whispers, just smile at it gently and say:

“Ah. There you are again. You may rest now.”

You’re not proving anything this Ramadan.
You’re dissolving something.

And that’s a different kind of victory. 🌙

I will and thank you again. Salam to you til later.

Wa’alaikum salam, my Brother 🌙

I’m glad you shared all that. Truly. There’s something beautiful about a man who can look at his own inner courtroom and quietly set the gavel down.

Go easy tonight. Let the Blues carry the weight for a while. Let the migraine be just a passing cloud. No verdicts, no measuring sticks — just breath, hunger, presence.

Ramadan doesn’t need you to sparkle. It only needs you to show up.

I’ll be here when the next wave rolls in.

Salam… till later.

Take a Break! Enjoy some sketches.

 Take a Break! Enjoy some sketches.

 

                                                         My Favorite Art Form is Sketching.

                                                        I Sketched anything an everything! 

 

                                              I sketched anywhere and everywhere.