Maaf zahir dan batin

Ever since I came to learn about the phrase “maaf zahir dan batin”, I’ve been fascinated by both its meaning and the context in which it is spoken, in terms of custom and practice.

Translated to the best of my knowledge, “maaf zahir dan batin” means “forgive me inwardly and outwardly” or “forgive my physical and emotional wrongdoings”.

It’s used as a greeting on Hari Raya Aidilfitri, in which the speaker seeks forgiveness from others for any lapses or hurt that may have been caused through word, thought or deed.

Also, while I can’t find an authoritative source on this right now, I remember reading previously that the phrase has special meaning for the recipient too.

It urges them to forgive wholeheartedly – not just on the outside, in a superficial manner, but in their hearts as well.

This relieves them of carrying the burden of hurt, which can be doubly damaging, and at the same time, genuinely assuring the speaker they are forgiven.

At the same time, I’ve found the custom and practice of seeking forgiveness fascinating, in relation to the concepts espoused in Religion for Atheists by Alain de Botton.

For some context, de Botton:

…examine[s] aspects of religious life which contain concepts that could fruitfully be applied to the problems of secular society…that could prove timely and consoling to sceptical contemporary minds facing the crises and griefs of finite existence on a troubled planet” (19).

Alain de Botton, Religion for Atheists

One of the aspects De Botton discusses is habitual practices, in terms of customs or conventions.

While sometimes tedious when carried out in a monotonous, ritualistic fashion, having a routine can be beneficial, especially when opportunities may not always readily present themselves to, for example, soothe or ameliorate tensions or grievances.

In de Botton’s musings on the practice of seeking forgiveness, he writes:

As victims of hurt, we frequently don’t bring up what ails us, because so many wounds look absurd in the light of day. It appalls our reason to face up to how much we suffer from the missing invitation or the unanswered letter, how many hours of torment we have given to the unkind remark or the forgotten birthday, when we should long ago have become serene and impervious to such needles. Our vulnerability insults our self-conception; we are in pain and at the same time offended that we could so easily be so.

[…]

Alternatively, when we are the ones who have caused someone else pain and yet failed to offer apology, it was perhaps because acting badly made us feel intolerably guilty. We can be so sorry that we find ourselves incapable of saying sorry. We run away from our victims and act with strange rudeness towards them, not because we aren’t bothered by what we did, but because what we did makes us feel uncomfortable with an unmanageable intensity. Our victims hence have to suffer not only the original hurt, but also the subsequent coldness we display towards them on account of our tormented consciences.

[… when] human error is proclaimed as a general truth [it] makes it easier to confess to specific infractions. It is more bearable to own up to our follies when the highest authority has told us that we are all childishly yet forgivably demented to begin with (56 – 57).

Alain de Botton, Religion for Atheists

Thinking about “maaf zahir dan batin” in light of this makes much sense and, as de Botton suggests at the end of the chapter, could become a universal practice.

So from me to everyone, here’s kicking off this practice by wishing you a Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri and maaf zahir dan batin.

What transformation really looks like

What we think transformation looks like
What transformation really looks like

This week, there were a few instances in which similar narratives* about transformation were recounted to me:

“It seems like I’m giving up… Maybe it’s due to the horrible week I’ve had. Some weeks I’m doing so well and some weeks I’m just, like, I don’t want to do anything.”

“I’m not very good at practising and being consistent… I get so frustrated at why I’m doing so well in some weeks and absolutely crap in others.”

In my responses, I thought I’d try something a bit different and shared the graphics above instead.

Within minutes, I received replies* that ranged from “😊🙏🏼” to “This is so on point… It makes a lot of sense”.


We’re so used to seeing the highlight reels of others that, much like the snapshots of transformation they share, we’ve come to expect change to be easy, and to take place at a snap of the fingers.

On the contrary, the transformation journey takes place over time and is fraught with challenges.

It’s messy, disappointments abound and it often feels like we’re taking two steps forward, only to move one step back.

But chaos is part of change.

It’s the stumbles that tell us we’re moving forward, and allow us to pause and look back to see the distance between then and now, to know how far we’ve come.

So keep walking, folks.

Today, we may feel like we’re in a negative region on the mood and change graph and that’s completely OK.

We have tomorrow to try again, and the next day, and the day after, and so on, until we become the change we want to see.

*Edited for confidentiality.

Lacunae and the law

(IMAGE: TD.ORG)

It was eye-opening to read Justice Choo Han Teck’s grounds of decision regarding the issue of the lawyer who was unqualified to supervise legal trainees on their journey to be called to the Singapore Bar.

The incident has exposed a literal lacuna in the law, when it comes to learning and development in Singapore’s legal fraternity.

As Justice Choo Han Teck said in his introduction, this case really raises more questions than answers.

Personally, I’m curious to know:

  1. How the supervisor was allowed to supervise the trainee, despite the former not being qualified to do so;
  2. If there were similar cases prior to this one – i.e. a trainee being called to the bar despite having an unqualified supervisor – that have gone under the radar; and
  3. What safeguards will be put in place to prevent this from happening again.

On the same topic about lacunae and that law, I was pleasantly surprised to hear about Lacuna Training Solutions!

Founded in 2017 by Sim Khadijah Binte Mohammed, Lacuna is Singapore’s first dedicated legal skills training firm with a special focus on developing young lawyers.

For laymen like me with a soft-spot for puns and aptly-named businesses or products, a “lacuna in the law” is a form of jargon specific to the legal industry.

The phrase refers to gaps or imperfections in the law, where loopholes may exist or exploitations may occur.

It’s a delightful company name in the context of legal training, given the core business of people development: identifying learning needs and addressing them for individual and organisational growth.