Halal Money and Rezeki
I have been going for regular tennis coaching for almost a year now. My tennis coach is Iranian, Coach Saeed. I call him Coach. He was formerly a national youth tennis coach. He has a few assistant tennis coaches. One that I work often with is also an Iranian. His name is Omid. When I started working with Coach almost a year back, all I had in my mind was for a few tweaks and then to be on my way. At our first lesson, after half a basket of balls, he calls me from across the net. I walked up to him there. ‘When is the last time you took a lesson?’ ‘Uhm. Probably when I was eighteen, nineteen. Why ah?’ ‘Ah okay. How old are you, Mr Fahri?’ ‘Forty-five.’ ‘I see. Yes, we have some work to do with your stroke.’ I was worried. I wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship; just a short intense affair. But he had a way of putting things. I later discovered that was his charm. ‘Oh. What seems to be the problem, Coach?’ ‘You are forty-five years old trying to hit like eighteen-year-old.’ Ouch. I met with Ms Humility plenty quick. ‘You must use a stroke suited to your body now, Mr Fahri. It is no point you go against your body. You just hurt yourself. What I can do is help you hit very good for forty-five-year-old and beyond.’ That was fair, which is why I have been with him for over a year now. His coaching sessions are one of my favourite things about the week. I hope to be coached by him as long as he remains in Malaysia because he tells me he is is going to leave for greener pastures soon. At the start he told me, ‘Mr Fahri, you have to be patient. You will not see improvements in a month or three months. You will also not see it if you don’t take it seriously. What I will do is systematically improve your strokes. We will go little by little. Maybe not so much your backhand. Don’t worry. You give me one year, I will help improve everything. Trust me and follow my instruction and you will see. Oh, and you need to improve your fitness also.’ I took up the challenge. Got serious. Got fitter. Relatively, of course. Attended my sessions every week as often as I could. Gave a hundred and ten every time. Chased down every ball, even the ones that were out, even the ones just out of reach, even the ones beyond me. I felt like I was eighteen again, although I’m sure I looked like a deluded forty-five. I learned the mechanics of my stroke. Listened carefully to his coaching instructions. And executed every instruction given to me as best I could: Racket in front of body. Little lean forward. On front feet. Keep racket head up at chest level. Inhale. Once ball leaves racket from the other side, short bounce on feet, shoulder turn. Keep the backswing small. Then move. Big steps to small steps. Breathe. Get behind the ball early. Tempo. Turn shoulders. Keep arm straight and in front. Follow through with hips. More spin. More spin. Go for the upper window at the net, don’t skim it. Exhale through the stroke. After about ten months in, during a coaching session, after a particularly gruelling hit with Omid, I called time out and panted my guts out on the way to the tired-looking wooden bench beside the court to hydrate myself and recover. On the way there, I saw Omid run-up to Coach excitedly. They talked animatedly to each other, laughed, high-fived then resumed their avid discussion as they strolled to their bench, the coaches bench. After I recovered my breath, I went over to them. “Coach, what was all the laughing and high-fiving just now?” “Oh! Omid said I really make halal money!” he said with a big smile then laughed. “Yes, I told Coach you have really, really improved since you first came. Today I feel it. Deep shots, so many on the baseline. A lot of spin. Your shots were difficult to take. So I told Coach you really make someone improve. The money he earns is halal. I see it.” “Oh, that’s interesting.” That was true for me too. That morning, I felt I had moved up a plateau in my game and technique. So I thought it was interesting to hear him say he could feel the improvement. “You see, Mr Fahri, I only earn halal money. If you give me money, I must give you back something back. For me as a coach, if you don’t improve, then the money you give me, is not halal. I also say halal because I said one year but it is only ten months, and you reached where I want you to be. That is why, Mr Fahri, I am fussy about my students. I only take those serious about their tennis. I don’t like it if you come here, don’t pay attention, don’t take it seriously. That ruins my energy. I don’t like to earn money from that. I prefer to earn halal money. That’s why I only want to work with people with good energy and attitude.” I found the whole discussion sobering and refreshing. It’s been a long time since I have heard anyone in Malaysia talk about halal money, never mind earning it. The irony of it was that I was hearing it from a foreigner. In Malaysia, there’s always talk about halal food, halal skincare products, halal loans, halal financing, halal produce, halal restaurants, halal this, halal that. But the one thing I don’t hear any talk about is halal money and how to earn halal money. To Coach halal money is money earned by giving or doing something meaningful to or for someone else. My parents taught me that halal money is doing an honest day’s worth
