Wednesday, July 16, 2025

I Was a Martial Arts Student — The Ritual 21/12/2019

                                                   Cendering Beach -Terengganu

 I Was a Martial Arts Student — The Ritual

21/12/2019

I was introduced to the word Subud when I was a martial arts student of Silat Seni Gayung Malaysia in Terengganu. One can Google Subud today and find plenty to satisfy curiosity. I do not intend to elaborate too much on the subject, other than to share what it meant to me as a teenager.

Having had a vivid imagination from a young age, I took Subud to be a secretive spiritual practice — one that could make a person extraordinary, perhaps even super-normal, if they were properly initiated into its mysteries. I knew little of its origins, only that it came from Indonesia, and I never asked too many questions. I trusted my Guru, who at the time was the Director of the Islamic Religious Department for the state — a wise and deeply knowledgeable man.

There was no internet or Google then to fact-check anything. You believed, or you didn't.

The Initiation

I was initiated — or to use the Malay term, peturun or menurun, which roughly translates to “handing down” or “passing on.” This ritual took place in a large bedroom adjacent to the living room. I remember clearly the television was on in the next room — a reminder that the ordinary world was still turning even as I was being invited into something else.

There were about ten people in the room, including the Guru and his wife. They all sat in a circle. I was placed in the center, seated cross-legged, with my instructor, Tengku Azmel (TA), holding my right hand. He asked me to recite several short verses from the Qur’an, including Al-Fatiha, Surah Al-Ikhlas, and the salawat to the Prophet. After that, I was told to sit in silence, with an empty mind.

Once the recitation ended, TA, holding my right hand with his left, began to stroke my arm with his right while quietly mumbling something I couldn’t quite make out.

Then something unexpected happened.

Those sitting around me began to tap the tiled floor with their palms. Softly at first, then louder, and more rhythmic — like a heartbeat. The intensity grew as they moved slightly closer toward me and TA, who remained focused. Before long, I was surrounded by this drumming of palms — a vibration I could feel through my spine.

The Descent and the Silence

Suddenly, I noticed the television had gone quiet. In its place was a loud, static-like hum — a strange, heavy sound, almost like an airplane descending or an emergency broadcast tone. Then:
Snap!
A sharp sensation at the top of my head — like two fingers clicking just inside the skull — and then everything stopped. The drumming. The hum. The world.
Silence.
Darkness.

I reached my hands out, and there was no floor. It was as if I were suspended in a vacuum. Then the muscles in my neck began to stiffen, traveling down my shoulders and back. My head started to move rapidly left to right — faster and faster — and I could not stop it, even though I feared it might snap clean off.

My arms stretched out like I was waking from a long sleep or deep yoga pose. The movement was not mine. It was through me.

Then came the voice.

"Assalamu’alaikum... Who is this?"

Without hesitation, I replied:
"I am Hasbol."

That was the first — and until now, the only — time I’ve ever spoken that name aloud. I had not told anyone about it, not even my teachers, who have since passed on.

Out of curiosity, I recently Googled the name Hasbol, not expecting anything. But to my surprise, I found this meaning:

Hasbol — Name Meaning and Personality Analysis:
Cheerful and bright, a person of action and communication. Curious by nature, with a thirst for knowledge. Creative, intuitive, and highly sociable. Adaptable, optimistic, and diplomatic, with strong potential in fields like communication, design, psychology, and the arts. Spiritually inclined, but also grounded in practical human connection.

Reading that, I was stunned. The description resonated with how I’ve moved through life — always seeking, always sharing, always creating.

Was Hasbol the name of a spirit? A self yet to be known? A deeper identity passed down through that ritual? I don’t know. But I remember the silence, the drumming, the vacuum, the voice — and the name that came from somewhere deep within or far beyond.


#Subud #SilatGayung #SpiritualInitiation #Latihan #Peturun #Menurun #Hasbol #MysticalMalaysia #TerengganuTrance #IslamicSpirituality #NameMeaning #SelfDiscovery #HiddenNames

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