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by ilmi Khalid
In my latest video, I share a simple but powerful knife exercise you can practice safely with a partner.
Watch it here: Knife Training Exercise – Seni Bilah Melayu https://youtu.be/G-Fg8OmGX_Q
When training with blades—even training knives—discipline is everything. One key principle I highlight in this session is keeping your hands close to your body. Why? Because when your hands wander too far forward, you’re offering them to your opponent. In Silat and other blade arts, this can mean the difference between control and disaster.
During this 7-minute tutorial, I demonstrate:
These drills are adapted from my book Basic Silat Knife Drills, which focuses on understanding the speed and violence of real attacks—so you can respond effectively.
I’m currently working on my next book covering knife defense and counters, and I’ll share updates soon. If you want to build your fundamentals or just get a good cardio workout, try the exercises demonstrated in the video. And always remember: Train responsibly, stay aware, and respect the blade. Watch the full video here https://youtu.be/G-Fg8OmGX_Q Get the ebook here https://payhip.com/b/XLkQ1 
Till next time—keep it tight, keep it small, and keep training.
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By Ilmkhal
It has been exactly one year since the passing of Guru Jak Othman—a teacher, a wise warrior, and a man whose impact on my life and the martial arts world cannot be put into mere words.
Through this man, I got to see the wonderful world of Silat, both in Malaysia and abroad. The way he carried himself—with a mix of humility, pride and genuine love for the art, left a lasting imprint on my heart. His presence could fill a room, and he had that rare ability to uplift everyone around him, with his charms, wits and his infectious laughter.
Before meeting Guru Jak, I tried a few Silat styles—either I left immediately, or I stayed for a few weeks. Something never quite clicked. But with Guru Jak, I stayed for years. I trained, absorbed, and kept returning. That, in itself, says everything about the kind of man he was. His aura, charisma, and deep skills and knowledge, had a way of pulling people in—and making them want to stay. That was his gift.
One of his most lasting contributions was through mass media. In the 1990s, Guru Jak hosted a prime-time television show on TV3 called Mahaguru, which brought Silat and other martial arts into Malaysian living rooms. It wasn’t just entertainment—it was education, or edu-tainment. For many, it was their first real encounter with traditional martial arts, and the show sparked a national interest in Silat that still echoes today. 
In 2008, I had the honor of taking two weeks off from my work in TV creative department to assist Guru Jak in the production of Inside Silat, a documentary feature for TV that took us across Malaysia, filming various Silat subjects and masters. Those two weeks were an unforgettable experience—intense, insightful, and precious. The documentary later went on to win Best Cultural Documentary at the Malaysian Documentary Festival in 2009. I’m proud to have been a part of it, and even prouder that it was led by someone who directly teaches me Silat.
I also had the privilege of working with him behind the camera on other projects--producing Silat content together was always a great experience. With his background as a TV director, he had a clear visual language in his head. He knew exactly what he wanted from a shot, from a scene, from a story. The process was always fast, focused, and efficient. Working with him taught me not just about martial arts, but also about clarity of vision, storytelling, and the discipline to bring ideas to life. His style was explosive, fast paced, and loud. I learned to adopt and adapt his directing style through fast camera movements, dutch angles, following the actions, catching the hits, and in edit, his message to me was always, to cut on action. Waste no frames.
Beyond television and internet videos, he also left behind a written legacy. Guru Jak was a passionate writer, contributing powerful articles to local martial arts magazines. His words reached those who had never met him in person, yet still felt mentored through the pages. His writing didn’t just teach techniques—it cultivated mindset, ethics, and passion for the martial path. Many of today’s martial arts instructors and enthusiasts still remember those articles as formative.
Martial Arts Illustrated Feb 2015
Martial Arts Illustrated Feb 2015
For me, his Harimau Berantai system is in my flesh and blood. It shaped how I move, how I think, how I teach. I teach not because I’ve mastered it—but because teaching helps me understand it better. Every time I pass on what he taught me, I discover new layers I had missed before, and reminds me of the little details he passed on that I may have forgot. That, to me, is how his legacy lives on: through the continuous process of learning, sharing, and reflecting.
Silat, in Guru Jak’s eyes, was never just about fighting. It was about becoming a better human being—one who is kind, able to protect, and walks with dignity and humility.
I remember he said: “Have Silat will travel. I travel around the world to teach Silat because Silat can make people a better person.” Silat, when taught with values, becomes a vehicle of transformation—not just physically, but also spiritually.
Now, as I return to producing Silat shorts and planning more structured content, I’m reminded of how much Guru Jak’s spirit still lives on. From time to time, I receive video analytics—and people are still searching for his videos. His image, his words, his movements—they continue to teach, long after he's gone. He lives through his videos, and his knowledge is still spreading.
I’m grateful I got to witness it all—and even more grateful that I can now be part of preserving it. The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said: “When a man dies, his deeds come to an end except for three things: Sadaqah Jariyah (ceaseless charity); a knowledge which is beneficial, or a virtuous descendant who prays for him.” (Sahih Muslim 1631) May Guru Jak’s many students carry on his teachings, so that he may continue to benefit in his next phase of life. May his knowledge continue to spread, and may his reward never cease. Ameen. 
The first and the last time I met Guru Jak was neither planned nor coincidence.
They were pre-destined--as Allah willed it. Whatever happened along the way between us will never change this truth: He was my Silat teacher. And he was the man who unlocked the world of Silat for me. 
Thank you to my brother Kru Khen for this picture.
Continuing the Legacy
If you're interested in learning Silat from the foundation I received under Guru Jak—especially in small weapons—my ebook “Basic Silat Knife Drills” is now available. It’s more than a technical guide; it’s part of the legacy, passed on with intention and respect. Get your copy here https://payhip.com/b/XLkQ1 Let’s keep the knowledge alive. Let’s keep the stories sharp. Let’s keep walking the path.
I have got to go. I have morning class today. Keep training and stay motivated!
By ilmi Khalid
What makes someone Malay?
Is it bloodline? Skin tone? Ancestry traced to a certain royal line? Or is it something more timeless—like language, values, and culture? To answer this question, we must journey beyond maps and borders, back into the tides of history and the spirit of a civilization. 
A Legacy You Can Inherit
To be Melayu was never just about who your grandparents were—it was about how you lived. Historically, people could become Malay by speaking Bahasa Melayu, following adat (customs), dressing modestly, and embracing Islam. Traders, scholars, and travelers from Arabia, India, China, and the Malay Archipelago didn’t just pass through—they stayed, married locals, and blended into the fabric of Malay society. This is where terms like Melayu Jati, Melayu Dagang, and Melayu Peranakan used to come in.
While these labels aren’t used officially anymore, they remind us of something important: being Malay was never about race alone—it was about shared values, language, and way of life. One powerful example is the Jawi Peranakan community—descendants of Indian Muslim men and Malay women. They were known for their strong Islamic roots and deep appreciation of Malay culture. They spoke Bahasa Melayu, wore baju kurung and songkok, and contributed greatly to religious scholarship, literature, and trade. In places like Penang, their daughters became affectionately known as anak mami—a reflection of their unique identity. Then there’s the Melayu Samsam—descendants of Malay-Siamese intermarriage, especially in Perlis and Kedah. Despite their Thai lineage, they embraced Malay culture and Islam so deeply that they were fully accepted into the community. One well-known figure from this heritage? Tunku Abdul Rahman, Malaysia’s first Prime Minister. These communities prove that Malay identity was always inclusive—built on values like courtesy, faith, loyalty to community, and respect for tradition. So, whether you were born into it or grew into it, being Malay was something you lived—not just something you inherited. But to understand how this inclusive identity evolved, we need to go back—long before modern Malaysia—even before Melaka. 
Before Melaka, There Were Malays
Though the Melaka Sultanate is often celebrated as the golden age of Malay civilization, the roots of Malayness go deeper. In Sumatra, the ancient Melayu Kingdom thrived along the Batang Hari River as early as the 7th century. Across the sea, Langkasuka and Kedah Tua grew as coastal trading hubs. Srivijaya, too, carried Malay influence across the seas long before Melaka's rise. Malay culture was already spreading—long before colonial maps tried to define it.
The Malay World Is Vast
The Alam Melayu (Malay world) isn’t confined to modern Malaysia. It stretches across the Nusantara:
Everywhere the Malay tongue was spoken and adat observed, a version of Malayness took root. 
Silat: A Cultural Gift to Build Character
The phrase "Tak Melayu Hilang di Dunia"--The Malays shall never vanish from this world—is often attributed to the legendary warrior Hang Tuah. It was not just a proud declaration, but a statement of hope and continuity. For Hang Tuah, being Malay was not merely about descent or geography—it was about upholding values of loyalty, service, courage, and culture. His words remind us that as long as these values are carried forward, the spirit of the Malays will live on. Among the cultural treasures passed down through this civilizational identity is Silat—a martial art that reflects the very spirit of Malay values. More than self-defense, Silat was a path to self-discipline and spiritual refinement. The late Guru Jak Othman, a respected Silat master and one of the most prominent teachers of his time, often said that Silat is a gift from the Malays to the world—a way for people to become better human beings. He believed that Silat, when practiced with the right intention, shapes the character, humbles the ego, and anchors a person with purpose. To him, it was never just about fighting—it was about honor, service, and growth. More than that, Silat served as a bridge between cultures—a space where people of different backgrounds could meet with shared values, discipline, and mutual respect. God said in the Quran, “O humanity! Indeed, We created you from a male and a female, and made you into peoples and tribes so that you may (get to) know one another. Surely the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous among you. Allah is truly All-Knowing, All-Aware.” — Quran. Surah Al-Hujurat, 49:13 
A Civilizational Identity
What unites all of this? It’s not genetics. It’s not skin color. It’s not bloodlines. It’s a shared civilizational memory—of seafaring empires, sultanates, poetry, honor, diplomacy, adat, and Bahasa Melayu. To be Malay is to uphold a way of life grounded in tatasusila (graceful conduct), hospitality, wisdom, and courage.
Learn the Art. Live the Legacy.
If you believe in preserving our heritage and learning the wisdom of our ancestors, start your journey with my ebook: Basic Silat Knife Drills Now Available Get your copy here https://payhip.com/b/XLkQ1payhip.com/b/XLkQ1 A practical and cultural guide to one of the oldest martial traditions of the Malay world—filled with real drills, warrior stories, and timeless values. This is more than self-defense. It’s preserving our legacy. TAK MELAYU HILANG DI DUNIA
The Story Behind the Story
I don’t write to teach or preach. I write to learn, to discover, and to share what I find along the way. Every story, every reflection, every thread of culture I explore—it's part of a journey I’m still on. And if something here speaks to you, then perhaps we’re walking part of this path together.
By Ilmi Khalid
Every year during Eidul Adha, we revisit a timeless story: the trials of Prophet Ibrahim peace be upon him, the unwavering faith of his wife Siti Hajar, and the noble submission of their son, Prophet Ismail peace be upon him. We reflect on the pilgrimage, the sacrifice, the qurban (sacrifice) meat distributed to the needy, and the spiritual lessons behind it all.
But rarely do we pause to reflect on the knife -- the silent witness to that moment of obedience, the tool chosen by Allah to play a role in a divine test.
The Knife in Prophet Ibrahim’s Hand
In that moment, Prophet Ibrahim peace be upon him held a knife to show devotion, to obey. It was a test from Allah — a command that cuts deeper than any blade. The knife in his hand became a symbol of obedience, trust, and surrender to Allah. And yet — Allah intervened. And in place of his son, a ram was sent — and that ram was sacrificed. “And We ransomed him with a great sacrifice.” — Surah As-Saffat (Quran 37:107) The story ends with mercy and the knife played its role, as a tool of submission and spiritual strength. 
Is Eidul Adha Related to Hajj?
Yes — Eidul Adha is directly tied to the Hajj pilgrimage, both in timing and meaning. While Muslims around the world gather for the Eid prayer and offer qurban, millions of pilgrims in Makkah are completing the rites of Hajj — a sacred journey that retraces the footsteps of Prophet Ibrahim, Siti Hajar, and Ismail Eidul Adha falls on the 10th of Dhul Hijjah, right after the most critical day of Hajj: Arafah (9th Dhul Hijjah). During this period, both pilgrims and non-pilgrims perform qurban (animal sacrifice), commemorating the moment Allah replaced Prophet Ismail with a ram. Eidul Adha is the spiritual echo of Hajj — a global reminder of submission, sacrifice, and divine mercy. 
The Ethical Blade
Here in Malaysia, this spiritual ethic lives on. In the days before Eidul Adha, local bladesmiths become busy sharpening knives — for the sacred duty of qurban. A well-sharpened blade ensures a swift, merciful slaughter with the least amount of pain for the animal. This is ihsan in action — excellence in worship, compassion in ritual, and discipline in practice. The knife, when held by hands guided by taqwa (God-consciousness), becomes a symbol of mercy, discipline, obedience, and service to Allah.
Why I Wrote Basic Silat Knife Drills
As a martial artist, I’ve always believed that the Silat blade training teaches us more than movement. It teaches us responsibility. It sharpens not just our reflexes — but our intention. The pisau belati — the traditional Malay knife — seems like a harmless daily utility tool used by the ladies of the past. However, in the hands of a trained practitioner, it can be a deadly instrument of combat. In my ebook Basic Silat Knife Drills, I share: • Foundational solo drills with the knife • Ethical and practical principles of self-control and awareness • Warrior stories that echo the values of discipline and service • A structured training guide that is easy to use This isn’t a manual for violence. It’s a journey toward mastery, restraint, and readiness.
Eidul Adha Offer: 20% OFF
In celebration of Eidul Adha, I’m offering a 20% discount on the Basic Silat Knife Drills ebook until June 12, 2025.
A Final Reflection
This Eid, let’s not forget the knife. It was present in that sacred moment — still, ready, obedient. It reminds us that tools are only as meaningful as the hands that wield them… and the intention behind the action. This Eidul Adha, may our sacrifices be sincere, our tools be guided by mercy, and our hearts be tethered to Allah. Eid Mubarak. — Ilmi Khalid Seni Bilah Melayu Silat Academy Bismillah. Alhamdulillah. After months of work — planning, structuring, writing, rewriting, designing, and praying — I’m proud to finally announce that my first eBook, Basic Silat Knife Drills, is now published and available for purchase on Payhip. 👉 Buy the book now What’s in the Book?This 120+-page guide is the first in a growing series under the Seni Bilah system — my personal take on traditional Malay blade training, rooted in the teachings of my late master Guru Jak Othman, and continued under Guru Wan Yusmar. Inside the book:
Why I Wrote ThisI’ve taught martial arts for years — Muay Thai, Kickboxing, and Silat — but I’ve always wanted to preserve what was taught to me in a format that others can access anytime, anywhere. This book is not just technique. It’s philosophy, history, discipline, and heart. It’s the beginning of a legacy — and inshaAllah, one of many to come. What’s Next?I’m already working on the next titles in this series:
 Final WordsThis is more than just a product. It’s a small offering in the way of Allah, for those seeking strength with purpose. If you’ve been following my content, or you’ve ever trained with me, or you simply want to support meaningful martial work — this book is for you.
🔗 Click here to get the eBook From the heart, Ilmi Khalid Founder of Seni Bilah Melayu Silat Academy | ilmkhal.com
The kerambit is not a showpiece. It’s a weapon born of purpose — forged in the shape of a claw, made to tear, not just to slice. When I train with it, I don’t move for the sake of motion. I move because every gesture has a reason.
Normal reverse grip
Watching back the recent footage, I saw what I needed to see. The form was clean. Wrist control was solid. No flair, no flourish — just honest mechanics. Forward grip. Reverse grip. The transitions flowed. The blade knew where it was supposed to be.
Click on this screenshot image to watch this Kerambit video.
I only recently adopted the full forward grip in my kerambit training. Before this, I trained mostly in reverse grip, and sometimes transitioned into a half-forward grip — where the ring slides onto the middle finger instead of the little finger. That variation gave me reach and control. But full forward grip shifts a lot of things. The angle. The feel. The speed. It’s like being one with the blade — not just holding it, but wearing it. Movement becomes more instinctive, more alive. Still unfamiliar. Still raw. But worth exploring.
Full forward grip
Sometimes, my wrist tensed a little. Not much — just enough to notice. That kind of stiffness slows down a live blade. In real use, that half-second matters. Something to refine. Maybe I was still thinking with my brain instead of letting the muscles lead — a side effect of adapting to the new grip.
Footwork held its ground. The steps weren’t loud. They didn’t have to be. Silat teaches you to move with the shape of the fight — triangular steps, shifting weight, reading space. It felt natural. But I think I should demonstrate more in the lower stances — where Silat and weapons truly dominate. Dropping down at the right moment adds layers: deception, evasion, even timing traps. 
Combo Kerambit grips
The bladework itself? It felt alive. Hook, slash, recoil. Flip, cut, redirect. The kind of movement built over hours of repetition. The kind that starts in the hand, but ends in the whole body. In one sequence, I managed a double-action — cutting forward, then back on the return. That’s the kind of moment that reminds me I’m on the right path.
But I keep a mantra close: don’t flip the kerambit unnecessarily — as drummed into my head by the late Silat master, Guru Jak. May Allah have mercy on his soul. Say Aamiin, and send more prayers his way. His dedication and contributions to Malaysian Silat were tremendous. Every flip must serve a purpose — to cut, to trap, or to hurt. Otherwise, it’s just noise. And motion without meaning is wasted in combat. I’ve got no interest in wasted motion. When you train alone, rhythm becomes your sparring partner. Mine felt right. Not constant — but steady. Shifting from flurries to stillness. That contrast builds tension. Stillness before the storm makes the storm hit harder. 
Combo Kerambit grips
Style-wise, I see my roots showing. Harimau Berantai, the style I studied for many years, gives my movement its grounded, instinctive flow. The newer Silat Sekilat system adds layers of tactics — stripping away rigid forms while giving me more freedom to express, to explore, and to stay effective and in full control of the weapon.
Some comments suggested a ghost of Filipino influence in the rotations. But I beg to differ — I’ve never trained in Filipino arts. The only non-Malay art I studied briefly was Krabi Krabong and Muay Boran. And a Thai guru once told me: their mother art is Silat. Controversial? Maybe. But for me, the heart is Silat. Not performance. Not theatre. Just movement built for impact. What I appreciated most, reviewing the footage, is that I didn’t waste motion. The blade stayed close to my centerline. Extended only when it needed to. Every movement had a place, a reason. And that’s what separates play from practice. 
Combo Kerambit grips
Still, if I want to make this educational — for students, for the curious — I need to show more. A dummy arm. A capable training partner. Something to map the intention behind the movement. Where does the blade land? What does it do? Why does it move that way?
This video was a checkpoint. A reminder that I’m not here to impress. I’m here to express. To sharpen what I know — and share it in a way that’s honest. The kerambit teaches that economy of motion is power. And power, used right, is quiet. 
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A Creative Evolution
I’ve been living and breathing motion design and video editing since the mid-2000s. For most of that time, Adobe was at the heart of my creative world. Premiere Pro, After Effects, Photoshop, and Illustrator were my go-to tools for countless personal and professional projects.
However, after years of reliance, I started questioning: Is it time to switch from Adobe to something better? The First Breakup: Premiere Pro to DaVinci Resolve
In 2021, I made the first major move in my creative journey — I dropped Adobe Premiere Pro.
Why? I discovered a better alternative: DaVinci Resolve. That year, I bought the Blackmagic Design Speed Editor, which came bundled with a free license of DaVinci Resolve Studio. While I had already explored the free version, the full version was a game-changer. It quickly became my go-to video editing software because of its clean, powerful, and stable features — and, importantly, no monthly fees. Simultaneously, I began upskilling myself to become a colorist using DaVinci Resolve. The software simply made sense to me. Even with Adobe’s flashy updates, I never once felt tempted to return. If I considered another option, it would be Final Cut Pro, a one-time payment model I’ve appreciated from my past experience. You can check out one of my recent works, fully edited using DaVinci Resolve Studio, here: Kerambit Digital Video Product on Gumroad. 
Breaking Free from After Effects with Fusion
While DaVinci Resolve also includes Fusion, Blackmagic’s answer to After Effects, I didn’t immediately jump ship. After Effects had become deeply integrated into my workflow.
I started exploring Fusion with each new project, gradually pushing myself to rely on it more. But after unsubscribing from Adobe Creative Cloud, I found myself resubscribing to After Effects to meet a client deadline. I successfully delivered the project, but it was clear: I was still dependent on Adobe for motion design work. That said, with every new project, I’m using Fusion more seriously. The gap is closing — I’m not 100% free yet, but I’m almost there. Moving Away from Adobe: The Final Straw with Photoshop and Illustrator
I’ve had my eye on Affinity Designer 2 and Affinity Photo 2 for a while. So recently, I revisited the Affinity website and found something that caught my attention:
• A six-month free trial • 50% off the full bundle — only MYR399 for a one-time payment That was my Adobe deal-breaker. I made the jump. First Impressions: Affinity Designer 2 and Affinity Photo 2
After diving into Affinity Designer 2 and Affinity Photo 2, I’m genuinely impressed. The best part? I can seamlessly open old Illustrator and Photoshop files without major issues. That alone made the transition much smoother.
During a recent project, I needed something akin to Lightroom to make my photos pop. While I haven’t found the perfect replacement yet, I discovered that Affinity Designer allows me to apply LUTs directly to image layers — a workaround that worked quite beautifully. I wish they allow quick previews I select my preferred LUT. That option should be available one day, sooner or later, Projects Created During the Transition
Here are some projects I’ve worked on during my switch to Affinity:
The Partial Goodbye: Adobe, Thanks for the Memories
After overcoming the last hurdle, I can confidently say: my transition from Adobe Creative Cloud to Affinity is nearly complete.
The best part? I’ve cut down on monthly costs while switching to tools that work — and work well. So, here’s to a new chapter. Welcome, Affinity. Au Revoir, Adobe — and thanks for all the beautiful (but sometimes painful) years. Download Affinity & Davinci Resolve
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