aswadsky

Serious People

2012-01-27T15:17:00.000-08:00

I think the only way anyone can ever be sane, is by having balanced expressive harbors.

For example, have disagreements with the organization, tell the organizers. Have disagreements with issue, debate about it. Have something to say to friends, have a party and get everyone together. Talk about feelings. Yuck.

Still feel stuck? Well, try taking a very detailed task...cooking might do the trick. Or cleaning. Or you can just be exclusive and join the rest of us who find a safe harbor in making up really bad pictures and figures...and let people call it 'art'. Haha.

I was serious when I said I wanted to learn portrait drawing. I did four...and oh God, I so suck at drawing real life things. I keep trying to change the shape of the eyes or the tone of the skin and stuff. I don't know. It's been hardwired in my head to stay abstract and complicated for life.

I'll only show two so-called-portrait-drawings...and one err...?

I was bored with doing the 'right color' and the 'right tone' of skin and all that. So I end up with the left picture of disfigurement.

I couldn't help myself.

I don't know what people have against portrait drawing. But I figure it would have been a very useful skill if I ever could do one properly. I try to follow you tube and art blogs. And don't worry, I've been preached a gazillion times about drawing human faces- I don't hang them anywhere and worship them whatsoever.

There was even once someone asking me why they don't cover their aurah- and I'm like, where? Looking at the girls, for a girl myself, you see... I'm kinda allowed to see girl hair. So according to me, there is nothing wrong. And if men have a problem- well, you really need to get yourself checked. Seriously people? I didn't even do full body mode. In my head I see girls without their hijabs. Relax. No dishonor intended. Sheesh.

People get so serious about such trivial things. I'm having fun here. It's called practice.

I am serious about learning these drawings, but I can't stop laughing at how badly skilled I am. Seriously. Haha.

Tidak Adil

2012-01-27T14:36:00.000-08:00

Adil, meletakkan sesuatu pada tempatnya.

Tidak adil. Banyak sangat perkara yang bukan pada tempatnya, bukan.

Agak lama jugaklah saya biarkan diri saya dalam mimpi. Memang, kalau boleh saya teringin sangat untuk menjadi sebahagian daripada dunia seni yang serba indah ini. Yet, however, even so, namun begitu, tidak adil buat mereka yang belajar seni betul-betul. Yang ambil masa SPM (saya tak sanggup nak belajar kerana degil, suka ikut kepala sendiri) dan yang graduate sampai dapat master dan Phd.

Tidak adil agaknya untuk saya menyibukkan diri dalam dunia mereka. Sedangkan saya ni, hanya tahu bermain warna dan perasaan sahaja.

Menerima hakikat. Saya ni pelajar ekonomi...sudah masuk tahun tiga, lagi seminggu nak masuk kelas, dalam bahasa Arab kesemuanya. Masa depan saya dengan duit, kewangan dan masalah perbankkan. Kata dunia, itu tempat saya. Berlakulah adil pada diri sendiri.

Ikan Kaloi *cubaan*

Bayang2 Rama2 I

"Ride like the wind!"

Stencil Art 2

Mainan warna

Bayang-bayang Rama2 II

Masa depan graf dan check bank, tetapi warna warni sikit takpe kan?

Hati mana yang sanggup berada di tempat yang tidak sepatutnya? Be fair to me, please.

Melting Snow

2012-01-23T14:43:00.000-08:00

Melting snow. There is little to be happy about melting snow.

Today, as an effort to reduce the size of the lump inside my heart, I have willingly given a free-no charge of service or materials- art class to some kids in my neighboring area.

Since October, I noticed something was growing inside me. A deep lump, a heavy heart, an unison feeling of uneasiness. Strings weren't cut, they were tighten. It wasn't like I had eaten something wrong. It was like I had eaten something good before, and now it was stuck and rotting inside. More like the winter had made me cold inside out- it was snowing inside. Like ice. Little ice droplets. It felt not just cold, but hard, and unforgiving. The lump hung between my lungs, below my throat, barely able to swallow, able to throw. Able to rid. I can't get rid of the ice, they were hard snow.

A battle isn't. This is all an inner battle.

Initially I had wanted to do an English class with young Arabs, and I had arranged with my neighbors and fellow Arab friends to help me out. In the mean time, I was supposed to have some 'art' projects that were to consume my time like crazy. In the middle of preparing and figuring out what exactly the project would look like, I spent like nearly five hours staring into space before realizing- wow, I had no idea what to do.

I had a case of creative block. Thinking of ways to rid the burden, I thought I'd paint with someone in company, a friend...or something totally new, a child, maybe one? I used to draw a lot with Hanna, and it always cheered me up.

But word goes around pretty quick in this small town of Irbid, and before I knew it, I was making a class.

Not to brag, but I know I have the confidence to handle kids. But it's their mom's that make me nervous. And since I wasn't just teaching kidsters, I was teaching mommys, so I had to figure out a way to make it interesting, simple AND artsy.

All in all, I think I did pretty well. We painted a simple water paint design window- acrylic frame, while waiting for it to dry, we practiced simple origami. I nearly made a fool out of myself by forgetting how to do a proper horse, but we managed to do a camera and a dinosaur. The boys were pretty excited. I've never known Faqeh (one of the kids) was so artistic. But he stands out clearly whenever he does his project. It's always surprising to ask him what color he would choose for his design (blue, brown and yellow- classic!).

Kids have a very honest view on art. It is truly based on what they think and feel. If you ever think of teaching art, try very hard not to make the child follow what pleases you. Art is supposed to be a form of expression.

One of the mom's asked me, "How do you know if the color is cantik (pretty) to use?"

That was a hard question (I wasn't a certified art teacher haha)... "Maybe you shouldn't go for what's pretty, go for the satisfaction...the kepuasan of expressing. Whatever color that suits the mood, is the perfect color for the moment."

They asked for another class. Trying to hold my cool, I tried to sound relaxed when I said, 'anytime'. But even the Angels could guess how excited that made me feel. This class had given me so many new ideas for my upcoming projects, and deep in me, I felt the ice melt. The lump, it felt lighter.

Returning home, I felt like I had accomplished something. I could feel it, the snow was melting. Ah-ha. So surrounding myself with kids did help loosen some desert part in my soul. And it was fun too.

Yet, I could not rejoice. Alone in my room again. Everything was still cold, and as I stepped further inside- muddy...a pool of water now. The cold had not left, it was still winter. And now it was wet too.

It was wet everywhere. If before the ice had tried to clamp my windpipe, now this over flowing water is drowning me inside out.

Melting ice. What hurts me, is to find I am so cold inside. All imagination of warmth and heartfelt love and affection were illusions of my belittle sized brain. I have no warmth to offer. I am so cold. So hard. So rock hard.

I once naively thought I could never understand cruel and evil 'people' in this world. I thought wrong.

Melting snow only leaves muddy puddles everywhere. At first it snows, then it hardens, now it's left just water and dirt. So dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty.

I am so cruel.

Nothing Changed

2012-01-04T13:13:00.000-08:00

I know it's January now. Time changes. People might say, I have changed. But I am still me. I still stay hours in my room sketching uselessly. While taking such hard slaving few hours finishing an academic book.

I still listen to rap and RnB. Only, sometimes, sometimes I listen to country music. But if I had no choice, I would listen to instrumental. That seems innocent. I still find it somewhat 'boring' to listen to slow Malay songs. I tried. I honestly did. Ask my friends.

I try to add more minutes listening to the Holy book from time and again.

I still like sweet things. Guiltily, sometimes I eat spoons of the susu pekat (condensed milk) by myself in the kitchen, trying to convince myself that it's not the same like taking spoons of sugar. But I drink loads of plain water now. It took great discipline and practice and a lot of whining. Haha.

I still make up stories by myself. I still miss my brothers and sister. I still find it hard to read Arabic. I still want to learn script writing and filmography. I still find cooking boring.

However... I smile a lot by myself these days. I don't feel so guilty as I had before. I've lost my watch (it's somewhere in my room, I am sure of it), and I don't worry so much. I've worked hard on my mental mantra, to lessen my complaints, to reduce the things I dream about, and focus. Focus on the goal at hand. I start walking, running, flying, to it.

I still love abstract art. I still love painting. Out of the blue, I suddenly want to learn how to draw portraits. I used to hate putting long hard hours for a few details, that always look wrong in the end. Oh dear, I do portraits so ugly. Who wants to be my specimen? Pretty eyes, pretty lips. Come be my model?

There was one person who said my statuses on Facebook was getting more 'Islamic' now, and I laugh...so that's where all this perception has come from? Well, well, a famous blogger has said, don't judge a Facebook owner by his or her status. Seriously, don't. You don't see me screaming feminism throughout my walls, do you?

I haven't changed. In this new year, there is nothing new about me really. I am still that bipolar girl who ate the same nasi goreng at INTEC and had fun tinkering with her handycam. Maybe you have to get to know me longer?

Maybe, now, like I always knew I did,
I want the truth more than the lie.

Happy New Year people!

Why are you afraid?

2012-01-04T12:29:00.000-08:00

When people ask me- why.

Why am I afraid, I sometimes wish I could tell them why. But in reality I never can. There are some things that we take in together. Like war. Suffering of a family. Loss of a friend. But there are a moments we are like the caged mannequin with a hungry lion. Standing there. No where to run. Only a dagger in hand.

Also, there are moments, where we take courage together. When there is one person who would dare to speak up for the rights of a nation against a cruel leader. When as a team we stand together to present a case in debate. As we stand together against the world.

And there are also times, we have to take courage, alone. Because no one can go through what you go through. Somehow you were alone with the dagger in hand, and you alone can see the enemy. Yes, there is that choice of waiting. I sometimes wait. I wait for someone to come and hold me when I stand paralyzed, telling me, I will be safe. I will be safe. Yet the moment never comes. It never comes.

That realization. So heavy. So necessary. Out of nowhere, everything seems so bigger. Seems so harder. Seems so impossible.

Because I have chosen to not stare paralyzed anymore.

No one cheers for this victory. I haven't won. I have only made my move. Yet my heart soars with recognition and pride. This is only one step. One step. For chance. For defense. For courage.

3 Qul and Ayat Kursi.

Why are you afraid? It was because I thought I was alone. I was alone with evil. With guilt.

And I want to be free. I want to take back my heart.

Shooting

2011-12-26T13:31:00.000-08:00

The internet at home is to slow for me to browse anything, or even to upload a new picture. I feel it is a small lost. It's been windy and raining hard two days ago. There is a new excitement for this winter to bring snow. But I try not to keep my hopes up.

It's been an odd few days for me. I still have a lot of things I have to do. And worst, a lot more to study. But I refused to be pressured by either. Finishing something, one by one, at the right moment, is better than rushing into things. You can't rush fate.

I think I talk in oddly weird metaphors most of the time. Part of me is shy, because I don't really feel comfortable to tell out right what the problem is. Part of me is utterly curious what happens to me really means. And so I try to tell it in a different analogy.

Qus says she keeps dreaming people chasing her. I somehow keep thinking up this story where bad news is given. I don't get it. Something bad will happen, but I don't know if that's just my paranoia (I have really vivid imaginations)... or for real. I feel like I'm about to lose something, and I just have to be prepared for this one. Because this is the last time I'm ever going to be tested and finally get it right.

I don't really have strong instincts. People have to tell me and show me the direction, or else I'll get lost. They have to actually say what they feel, because I can't guess emotions.

I can't even guess mine, go figure Qus, we're the same?

Sometimes, I feel like I am close to the Lord. But there are moments where I can't really figure where I am under His presence. I finally understand what people say by, being just a small red ant in this large universe. We, I, seem so irrelevant. That sometimes it demotivates me to ever try to be anything meaningful. And I too wonder, if every hardship and fault we have, is just His attempt to come back to Him?

Sometimes it freaks the hell out of me to wake up and realize, oh my God, this really is a test. There are people (okay, it's suppose to be angels) jotting down the numbers on each side. And I am going to die and go to hell. I've sinned. I've coveted and lied. Without even noticing, I might have even killed someone, some thing. I might be a murderer. What if I never get a chance to say I am sorry, to ever repent my ways.

If you've done wrong, you still burn. Burn from regret, burn from hell.

At the same time, it seems like me holding tight, have finally reaped something. I got a chance to do something big, not for anyone else, only for myself....it's an honor. It's scary. It's totally exciting. But I don't want to talk about it now. I want to see what I can do for myself.

I was nearly afraid to take the chance. But fate and dreams do collide. And i did it. I called a few people, made a few arrangements, sketched something in my head. I don't know what to expect, I mean, i don't want to disappoint and I don't want to be disappointed. Better just to go on and see what comes. Expect less. Stay happy.

Today I cooked. It's not a big deal now. I just feel so bad for not really being helpful that much lately. I try to be functional. Throw away the trash, buy stuff at the store. I just realized when you don't do the cooking, you are actually not contributing a lot in the house. How sad.

I seem to have vast periods of time on people who don't really care about me.

I want to do things I am passionate about. Have that charter for compassion. I don't want to be this detached person I already am.

Holes inside- this world, this post, this moment, doesn't have to be so sad. It could be a revelation. Please let it be useful.

People are shooting at each other outside, women are crying. Kids are left out in the cold, roaming aimlessly. We are all running. All sense of security and safety lost.

Someone, teach me how to use a gun.

Safe and Sound

2011-12-24T01:36:00.000-08:00

I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said, I'll never let you go
When all those shadows almost killed your light
I remember you said, Don't leave me here alone
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound

Don't you dare look out your window darling

Everything's on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold onto this lullaby
Even when the music's gone

Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound

Just close your eyes
You'll be alright
Come morning light,
You and I'll be safe and sound...
***

Actually I know I can never really fully empathize the sufferings in Palestine, Sudan, Somalia and many other hunger driven and fearful places in the world. I read about them, I listen to the news about their sufferings, but I will never fully understand.

If I had to try, I would go back to no other memory except the ones at home. Where early in the morning I wake up early and knock on every passing door. Entering the pink room, holding the tip of your toes under the covers...and cooing at you to wake up. It's sahur time.

Or the one, where I already turn on the telly, and our parents are already out and about, you wake up, all blurred and sleepy, I pull you in for our morning hug. Good morning, my hero.

Or maybe the time when you find I have no toys for you, and you run quietly to your bed, sad. But I come to you with a book you'll love in hand. Telling you I will never forget you. Never.

"...sacrifice for the Lord the things you love, verily He knows what is it you love..."

Al-Imran: 92

After remembering these memories, have them willingly taken away from me. Stop. Stop. I cannot think. How low my faith must be. How tragic the families in these war countries must feel. To never have their love ones again. But I am scared to say, I am willing. But He knows what is it that I love.

I am not a good sister as many might have hoped. Truly, if you knew me, you would never want me to be your family. The horror I bring. Especially the things I would force you to eat.

I slept at my friend's house in syimali last Thursday night. We talked for hours in the dark. About life, about lost love, and finding new meaning.

"I realized if my prayers and relationship with God wasn't improving, my life would be out of control." she said.

For a moment I was silent, and kept the thoughts in my head to myself. The particular verse haunting me.

Guilt envelopes my every movement. Passionless isn't this new feeling of overcoming. Yet it has to be done, to survive. I will push myself. For courage isn't without it's enemy of fear. My future is never absolute.

I don't even know if I am a good person. A person of faith. Or a person worthy. Or true.

I just know I need more time.

And I will ensure you safe and sound, I will love again.

And I will let you go.

Lidah Mat Salleh

2011-12-13T14:53:00.000-08:00

Kadang-kadang orang boleh lupa,

Lidah, lidah Mat Salleh,
Tetapi Darah tetap Melayu.

Hati tidak berganjak, tidak juga menunggu,
Dan jiwa. Jiwa tetap milikNya...

1991

-I sometimes laugh at the idea that people think it's 'cool' that I can speak English. When I really, really feel clammed up because I can't express myself so people will understand me- in Malay. Like famous authors, like Hilal Asyraf or Fauziah Asyaari, or penulis cinta-cinta ayat tuh. I'm not ungrateful, just tired. To me, it's cool to be great in Arabic. Or Greek. Or Hebrew. People decipher and feel challenged with the many meanings it possess.

-I love batik art the best. People can guess the picture, the color. But you can never decipher the emotion behind the mixture of colors.
I am not good at batik art, I've tried, and I think I haven't gotten it right at all. It's not easy to learn all these merging color techniques. These paintings are NOT mine. They're one of my favorites though.

-I used to be really bad at talking with people, because of the language barrier, and I drew a lot in my spare time to express.

Now, I think I talk too much, but still... I draw some more.
Why can't I connect?

New Art in Silence

2011-12-07T16:21:00.001-08:00

Art was created to express, what words could not, and what the mind just can't grasp to explain.

In some cases, I find a new divine form of expression,

in silence.

It makes minds wander,

hearts flutter,

cheeks red,

hands cold.

indulging silence is nearly as fun as enjoying time alone with a paint brush.

though one can say, i miss the colors,

the vent to express, is still the same.

i have been loud in words, loud in colors,

now i think i will take it carefully, in silence.

3 Impossible wants

2011-12-02T03:49:00.001-08:00

Kadang bila diuji dengan ujian yang sama berkali-kali. Kita tahu sebenarnya, somewhere, ada benda yang kita buat tak betul sebenarnya. Cuma kita je yang tidak tahu tang mana yang silapnya. Dan asyik kena cuba, dan cuba. Makin cuba.

Ada kala dan masa, jadi cuak pun boleh sebab risau akan kena ujian yang sama lagi. Ada kata istilah serik? Semacam Tuhan nak kata- selagi tak score, selagi tulah takleh grad. Takleh tenang. Takleh lari, tahu?

Sometimes we never feel grateful. Study la sungguh-sungguh ye.

***

In clause with being boring, I tend to also be very disastrous. I noticed I don't crave for simple things like a dream house, a Porsche, 1 million dollars or a big movie career deal, nooooo...........I want things that are far more impossible to obtain.

Here are some insane wants I have:

1. To watch a movie before it's release. Every time I see a new trailer, and watch it, I get sucked into wanting to find out what the story is about. From beginning till the end. Even trying to find leaks of videos. It kills me if a trailer is months before the actually date of the release--the anticipation is dreadful.

(Usually when I have watched it, I forget about the whole ruse I made earlier and just go.."meh")

2. To finish with my exams before I have taken them. I know, it's a crazy thing to ask for. But a week before my exam, I always pray that I could just get my marks already. Sometimes I would close my eyes and wish really really hard, that poof! Exams are all over and done with. Funny thing is, I wished the same thing, for every exam I've ever taken.

3. To be a super hero. Hey, I grew up with Marvel Comics- Batman, X-men and the whole lot of other sets of supers. It really influences your imagination and way of thinking to some extent. I was going to say "superman" but I don't really want to be a man. But I have no idea what super power I should have? Nothing suits me really.

It's time I grew up and realized I can't have everything I ever wanted. I'll just have to 1) journey through the story of life like everyone else, 2) sweat through all the trials, and "prepare" like I know I'm supposed to do, and most importantly

3) stop waiting for the impossible to have the ability to save myself.

After a few days. Suddenly out of the blue, I just laugh.

***

My friend passed away on the 3rd of December 2011. I don't really know what to say. Words wouldn't really have meaning for either of us now. Not him in the other world, not me, still in this. And truthfully-though some would argue- I actually have no right to say or ask or regret anything in his name. The choices I made were my own, as to was his.

This separation is only forever.

And I tell you, from personal experience, forever is a very very short time.

Between you and them

2011-11-20T06:12:00.001-08:00

People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Be good anyway.
Honesty and frankness will make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People need help but will attack you if you help them.
Help them anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

-Mother Teresa. Thanks to Sarah Joseph.

***

Sometimes, we forget the things that count is not what happens here on earth, but in the hereafter.

The Rock Soul-Jiwa Batu

2011-11-19T10:02:00.001-08:00

my colorful

flying away

like forever and always

***
Salam,

A story about a girl-bird named Nadia, who thought she found life and love.

She was always happy, flying around in different colors, happy happy happy

(Warna Terbang)

And she met love and friends and beauty, beside a grand flower of hope. The flower was beautiful and magnificent, clearly astonished that the Nadia, the girl-bird, could ignore Him.

only watching. He was a smart flower.

(Flower of Hope- xde kene mengena dengan miniclinic)

The Flower, amused, asked Nadia one day, 'You look so happy, why is that? What have you found?'

'I have found someone who loves me.'

The Flower laughed *evil laugh*

'No, you have not, the love you see-- is the love of your feathers, of your flying. Not YOU for who you are. They do not see your soul.'

(Feathers Drop)

Angered, the girl-bird yelled at the flower, 'You're wrong!'

Bemused, the flower asked, 'Oh, you're not, little bird? If I take away everything, you can prove, that you will still be loved, will still have friends, they will still love you?'

Determined, Nadia nodded, and with the summon of the winds (by God's will), she changed.

(Erased)

Nadia, the girl-bird, was turned into a rock. Lost of her wings and beautiful colors. She stood still on the ground. Sacrificing the skies, the sun, the wind...

(Bird Rock)

Her loved ones searched for her. Flew everywhere. Nadia saw them, but as a rock- she couldn't say anything to call them. they flew too high in the skies, without wings, she could not follow them.

One bird flew above her, so red, searching. Her heart filled with love. Someone has seen her!

But alas, the bird only gave one look and flapped it's red wings and flew away.

As a rock, she was uninteresting, without color, no one saw anything. Could not sense her nearby.

(Red wings)

Nadia then realized, through teary eyes, the other birds saw her wings, saw her colors....but they could not see her soul.

Nadia inside, even without her wings and color, was still Nadia. Nadia is not a bird. Nadia is a soul.

A soul...in the form of a rock.

Everyday, watching the birds fly, fly, fly.

(Watching rock)

***

1. Tahu tak, kalau awak beli air jus dekat Jordan ni, anda membayar 3-4 jenis cukai (cukai petani, cukai pekilang, cukai yang dikenakan atas pemborong, dan cukai pekedai runcit), ditambah dengan untung-untung lagi...patut la mahal kan? Yes, very dependent on tax as national income.

Suatu ketika dahulu, pada zaman pemerintahan saidina Umar r.a. berlaku kemarau, dan beliau menangguhkan pengutipan cukai pada tahun tersebut- sebab negara dan semua rakyatnya cukup je duit untuk keperluan hidup.

Kalau harta diambil apa yang perlu sahaja- cukup untuk semua orang dalam dunia, kan? Saya exam general finance esok (Maliah Ammah), no comment.

2. Kalau tanya Nadia, apa yang paling best pasal kakak dia duduk dekat Malaysia, dia kata, "Best bila ada orang nak dengar cerita Nadia, dan main tea-party dengan Nadia."

Dia bukannya nak hadiah...dia nak orang dengar dan spend time dengan dia. Itu sahaja.

3. Nak dekat-dekat exam ni, tiba-tiba akan datang inspirasi time kelam kabut takde masa nak baca buku. Haha.

Please, don't just look at my drawings. They are only colors on paper.

See my soul.

p/s ini post jiwa, bukan post cinta ;)

Menang-is

2011-11-14T10:44:00.001-08:00

Whoever thought I could paint or draw. And lose it too?

Butterflies bite, like the stars only feed you dreams.

At night, I am, so tired.

Ugh. Yuck. So ugly.

Kadang-kadang, perasaan benci diri itu datang. Why? Because without hatred you don't know love. Without fighting you know no peace. Without lies you don't know what honesty means.

If you don't know ugly, you don't know beautiful, love.

I've seen me at my ugliest, so no one can hate me more than myself. And no one can love me (as a human) more than I can either.

If you can hate yourself, you can surely love yourself. I know hatred, it's when I cry, when I get angry at myself, when I can't look in the mirror. When I stand a still. Than an echo rips apart and everything is blurred from site. I know hatred. I feel it. I can explain it. I can make it happen again.

Yet,

what is love?

You Said

2011-10-29T21:49:00.000-07:00

I told you: Do not leave me
You said: 'So remember Me; I will remember you...' (2:152)

I told you: I'm facing a lot of difficulties in life
You said: 'And whoever fears Allah – He will make for him a way out' (65:2)

I told you: Oh Lord I need hope
You said: 'Indeed, with hardship [will be] ease.' (94:6)

I told you: I have many dreams that I want to come true
You said: 'Call upon Me; I will respond to you.' (40:60)

I told you: Many people hurt me
You said: 'So pardon them and ask forgiveness for them' (3:159)

I told you: I feel I'm alone
You said: 'We are closer to him than [his] jugular vein' (50:16)

I told you: My sins are so many
You said: 'And who can forgive sins except Allah?' (3:135)

We always want answers, and the Lord is constantly giving them :)
This is why he is the Most Kind and Merciful~

Lagi sanggup lawan Gangster

2011-10-29T14:22:00.000-07:00

Musim sejuk ni, perlu lebih berhati-hati...sebab macam-macam kejahatan boleh keluar. Orang berniat jahat untuk buat macam-macam yang tah pape. Kita kena tahu pertahankan diri. Kena jadi macam ni:

I know, cool gile.

Lagi sanggup lawan gangster arab (bagi saya satu pedang dan machine gun la dulu).
Lagi sanggup berdepan dengan 2000 atau 1500 orang dalam stadium.
Lagi sanggup berdepan dengan cite hantu ~~kecuali Thobin, dia menakutkan~~
Lagi sanggup berdepan dengan PM, tentera laut, tentera udara dan sekutunya.

Rupa-rupanya saya ni manusia biasa, ada je benda yang saya takut....

3 paper exam berderet (non-stop) starting tomorrow.
Cuak, cuak, cuak. You don't know how freakishly cuak I am.

Dulu dekat sekolah, saya lah orang paling relax masa exam. Tak kisah pun fail ke apa. Asal amik exam, asal jawab, asal paham. Apa kes nak rebut2 dapat nombor satu? Macam budak2...nak gaduh tengok siapa lagi pandai? Siapa score lagi tinggi? Siapa yang dapat A? Oh please... I was above that kind of mindless competition.

Though....here, rasa macam tak kebal sangat dah sekarang.
But don't you dare call me a wuss.

Doakan sudah.

"The believers do not fear when they have their Lord."
Yes, the believers are not afraid...

Character: Damen

2011-10-29T06:39:00.000-07:00

There was once a time where my birthday was on 6th of June 2006...the taboo number of 666 encouraged film makers and modern story tellers to talk about a peculiar character named Damen. He was said to have been borne on the particular date....as the Omen. A devil born in human society, brought up among us, to destroy us.

The story was intriguing in many ways. And I would never forget that name. Damen.

Though stories would remain stories. In my head, I too see Damen as feared and unpredictable. Secretive and worriedly over defensive, he may not be the best candidate for making a friend. But as the story continues, I knew immediately he was misunderstood.

Brought up by his father in a fairly wealthy and up-tight family scaled life. As he grew up he saw that his father's ways weren't always right...some even cruel. He had never known his mother and had been told since birth that his mother was an evil woman with no understanding of the greatness Damen had. Damen was told time and again, that he would succeed his father.

But Damen was restless with the idea to be living empty, using and stealing from poor people was not his way of bargain. Then he found out who his mother really was, and discovered all the lies of his father. Especially the fact that his mother was left to insanity by his own doing. He blamed his own birth and turned rebel towards his father.

As his father was a strong force in Damen's own community he couldn't completely run away from his plans and minions. With a forced agreement Damen agreed to attend a training academy. Where no one knew of his background. And his own father was to never speak of him.

In the beginning he is seen as an unfriendly, secretive and dark character. But after his friendship with the twins.... his charismatic, loyal and concerned side unraveled.

He is a very private character, a man of few words, but decisive in his decisions and his actions. I foresee a great bond of friendship and usefulness between him and the twins. As their anchor. Their steady support and in some ways the one who changes the course of the destiny fated for both himself and the twins.

"Beware of the two Hidden's, whom only set out to destroy you. Destiny tales of the one eye and their creatures behind the wall. The End is like two fingers together."

Do you have someone who changes your presumed destiny?

Character: Aara

2011-10-29T01:43:00.000-07:00

I have this character in my head, and so far she is the one that has stuck the most with me. Longer than most of the characters I've drafted. Mysterious, I myself don't even know who she is, completely. There are times I think I know her the best. There are also moments I can't stand her, and some moments I feel so sad for her.

I see her as a sole character-she stands on her own in a story. That walks alone in the midst of old training grounds and battle fields. She stays away from people because of what she "hears" in her head. In my head, she is a souller...able to listen to the deep desire of people's souls (not mind read--- she does not read brains).

In her past, her parents had "used" her abilities for evil, and forced her to tell everything about everyone. Feeling used, one day she refused and was severely abused by her own parents. Threatened, her ability somewhat ables her to turn her parents into their soul forms... then they are swept away and disperse into the horizon.

Utterly terrified by what she has done, she locks herself in her room, where her memories of being abused and guilt consume her. After nearly days of no human contact and food, Zayne (another character) has rescued her from her self pity and offer her solace in a training academy.

In the beginning, she accepts only because she does not know of what else to do. Only Zayne knows. She does not tell people about herself, and keeps quiet most of the time. The academy is filled with other characters and as she listens to other people's desires, she keeps a tight vow that she will never tell a soul what she has heard.

But because she has a hard time keeping secrets, she removes herself from the crowd of people in the academy. And ends up spending her time in lonely corridors of the academy- with no one but herself. She feels, that in the end, that she can only be free of her guilt by herself.

After about fifteen years (she enrolled at the age of 14- youngest ever), keeping to herself and roaming the academy walls with no real human contact (except for Zayne)...then come the arrival of the twins that change the course of her life completely. She is pale, and looks young for her age, so she mingles with them perfectly. Though, I like to see her as an "old soul" inside.

The reason why I love her character so much, is because she learns from a young age, the strength of self preservation rather than falling herself to the guilt of breaking her own promise. I love the fact that she does not measure people by what she hears, but by what they do. She is also a character that believes in the hereafter- because of her ability to confront souls. Constantly questioning about where souls go. Probably a quest to find peace in knowing where her parents went, as souls.

And she acts as a "guide and advice" for the twins. As they always trust her to tell them the best options concerning treaties and trust towards people. Mature and content. She asks for nothing in return.

Though I don't understand her emotions, how can she be so... endearing at life, and accept everything as it is. Accept her fate, different than most girls. What is it that she wants to achieve at the end of her journey? Proof? Recognition? Realization? Love?

Why is she my character?

Of Vera Wang, Qus and Meaning

2011-10-25T02:49:00.000-07:00

It all started, with a very promising evening with Qus.

My mom- the one I love and admire so much- has been giving me this idea a few days ago. And though I know many would be jealous and wished they had a mother like mine... to be honest it can be a little stressful haha.

"Just take a look at Vera Wang's website...just take a look. No harm done." she smiled over the phone.

My mom likes to joke about stuff like this. Cool huh?

Call it being an egoist, but I have asked her quite bluntly before, "What if, I just don't want to get married, like ever?" It wasn't a promise. It was just an IF.

She went silent a few seconds. "As long as you live your life as a modest lady...it would be, kinda boring, but it would be Ok."

I laughed at her reply. My mother, the forever hopeful. Wondered where I got my day dreaming persona huh?

So to cut things short, out of being decent, I asked Qus to come over to my house and take a look at the website with me. I was not taking a peek alone! Qus was the type of person, whom I could take about anything with. I could ask advise about professional matters, about wordly matters....than I could suddenly rush into my favorite movie that I am dying to see, or just talk about random girly topics- like wedding gowns.

"I seriously don't know what I am doing here." I admitted sheepishly. Qus, the expert, would swiftly click next next, and comment every piece of clothware To take the imagination rush away from your heads- there are a lot of choices and designs. Haha. We took a good hour just browsing.

And it hit me, that well, I liked girly and sissy stuff. I was very happy at seeing people in love. And though an hours worth of browsing through the internet didn't change any of my personal opinions about matrimony. I still had a lot of fun with my favorite people.

What I liked about spending my time with close friends. Was that I didn't have to be ashamed to talk about stupid stuff. And that they would never degrade it as stupid talk. Talking about wedding gowns was like talking about traveling around the world- it was very informative. Unlike my initial perception. I mean, how very discriminant of me to think wedding-talk was degrading. And with Qus, I appreciate the moment that I can talk about anything with her. Smart stuff or not-so-smart stuff haha.

I also had that night spent with Izzatni. And we talked all night long, she helping me do my homework. So typical of her to be my personal tutor haha. She taught me in just half an hour what my lecturer had to do in a week. The smarty pants.

I had also watched about the 'Quest for Meaning' from Tariq Ramadhan's video clip compilation. And it was very heartwarming, inspiring, and, I think in the moment I can't explained how that feels. To hear someone say your greatest confusion and fears- out loud.

Quite a very beneficial evening don't you think? Haha

As I slept that night, on the hard floor (no reason able to discussed) a few things went through my mind.

1. I am a very boring person, I can't seem to find interest in Vera Wang. Honest.
2. I can think of so many other names who should be looking for wedding gowns right now. Haha.
3. This post is so random. I get over dramatic over stupid things. I don't have to prove I am smart.

4. My heart will always appreciate peace. I find peace in meaning.

Zaynab's love story

2011-10-25T01:59:00.000-07:00

Pernah tak terbaca tentang kisah Zaynab- anak nabi terakhir kita- yang dikahwinkan dengan Abu al-As.

She met her husband at a time before Islam. Full of happiness and contentment. Memang bahagialah mereka berdua bersama.

Bila nabi Muhammad menerima wahyu pertama...dan beliau menjadi utusan Allah. Abu al-As masih dengan ekraguan dalam hati membuat keputusan untuk menjauhkan diri dari nabi...in some ways, dia membuat keputusan untuk meninggalkan Zaynab.

Zaynab, so ever faithful to her Lord and her father, was sad...truly sad...for she loved her husband dearly. But she remained with her new faith. Walaupun telah diterangkan oleh nabi, mereke perlu berpisah...berpisah kerana Islam.

****

Pernah tak baca kisah tentang dua remaja dekat asrama- sorang yang bajet nak jadi baik (si lelaki) tetibe nak berubah dan start menjadi macam uztaz2...bagi message macam alim2, and ayat tazkirah semua... pastu, tetibe dia semacam dapat "petunjuk" yang dia perlu tinggalkan keadaan kehidupan dia yang penuh dengan maksiat couple nih. Yang hanya disalutkan dengan kebaikkan. Obviously he felt like a hipokrit.

Jadi pada satu malam yang agak hening, dia message la awek dia. "Saya rasa kita perlu berpisah, berpisah kerana Islam..." Come on, mesti pernah baca cerita ni... it's all over the internet.

The only thing I ever want to know is---what happened to the girl? So, lelaki tu jadi baik dan berubah dan tinggalkan maksiat. What about the girl? Dia jadi baik tak? Dia kahwin dengan lelaki lagi hot tak? Betul ke dia tak couple lain? Since well, couple tu kan 'haram'? Berdasarkan konklusi cerita ni la... And a few other religious scholars advice. I mean, technically, ok we understand. But still- what was the real end?

Curious.

****

Kisah cinta Zaynab...

Jangan ingat kisah cinta ni takde drama- ada la adegan tertentu, Abu Al-As kena tangkap oleh orang Muslim, dan Zaynab sanggup bagi segala harta dia untuk minta dia dibebaskan. Beberapa kali Zaynab ni bagi perlindungan dekat Abu Al -As, without asking anything in return.

Pastu ada adegan Zaynab di kacau oleh orang kafir Quraisy, menyebabkan dia trauma dan keguguran. Abu-Al As ni terus jadi body guard dia, bajet double side agent for his beloved la, and siap bace poems about "no one will protect you as long as I have my sword"....haha...rolling my eyes right now...

Akhirnya, dalam kisah cinta Zaynab ini...Abu Al-As akhirnya memeluk agama Islam. Di khalayak ramai di Makkah setelah memulangkan semua harta yang orang amanahkan dekat dia. A courageous and honorable way to enter his new faith. He already understood the lies and confusion of the Kuffar and was ready to change. He did. Hidup dengan bahagia as an immigrant di Madinah with his lovely wife and two kids.

Zaynab was super happy. She felt so blessed.

Than after a few years, she died. Dia pulak yang tinggalkan suami dia. Berpisah ke tempat yang tidak boleh patah balik dah. Abu Al-As masa tu peluk cium semua anak-anak dia. Wetting their faces with his tears.

"She opened the door...after their long separation, she saw him. In this encounter, it was their eyes that talked, rather than their tongues. It was their two hearts that took one another rather than their hands. It was their soul that embraced one another rather than their arms. And their eyes were plentiful of tears...."

Conclusion
Hollywood can never make good stories like these, because this one is real. Hah!
Your heart and faith are in the same place- so they are affected by each other. Duh.
Every love story has to have someone who dies to make it sound cool and super awesome. Tear jerk-er!

Nothing compares to eternal separation like death.
My love, I keep saying goodbye.

The Truth

2011-10-23T02:01:00.000-07:00

Moon-like.

The moon, it changes with phases. Only to bring the mood differently in every phase. Important for the tide to rise and fall. Crabs need warning when to plumage into the ocean. Oh and yes, the wolves would have to miss the bright bulb too, and keep calling it's name with a their sacrificial song. I can imagine the forest glory when they receive the moon. I can see you. I can see you.

Over cloaked by all things unnecessary words that no human soul cares to understand. Sebenarnya, all I want to say is the truth hurts.

But lying to make it better, is freaking torture.

"Dan hari itu akan berulang-ulang, penyeksaan demi penyeksaan, tanpa kesudahannya..."
You either burn from regret now, or burn in the hell fire

The in-between

2011-10-23T01:24:00.000-07:00

Not in this world, nor in that world either. Only in between.

During this time of weather, would usually need me to be extremely careful not to excessively complain and annoy the people around me with my whining. Like a barometer, as the weather shifts to cold, I would have an allergy reaction and an asthma attack. Then when it returns to warm, again, I would feel itchy all over...and have sleepless nights accompanied by my coughs and errands to the toilet. Fulfilling my duties as the record holder for loudest vomiting woman ever at 2 am.

I hated this. This feeling of the in between.

Unsure. Undecided. I needed reassurance.

I have this really stupid habit of having to feel something hard- like a wall- or something, when I go to sleep. My "new room" in this last house I moved in, I could't really have the leisure to lie my back against the wall. But a few nights back I had slept at a friends house- and it surprised me how much I missed that feeling. I didn't want to wake up.

Which was an idiot idea. Because I hated the feeling between dreams and reality. That in-between again.

As a teenager I was constantly impatient and always wanted to rush into things. I wanted to work, like immediately. I wanted to make a change instantly. I thought I was smart enough. I didn't have the desire like my peers. To live school- then what? I wanted so bad to be in control already. But it wasn't like I loved being an adult. I just had so many things coming in and through my life. I was sick of waiting too long to change it. Waiting. I suck at waiting.

My evenings are filled with me opening tab after tab. Reading what captures any slight interest. Trying to make myself believe I am involved. There are so many feminist and environmentalist fighters out there in the world, it amazes. Currently I read a lot about gender difference in learning...and understand the effects of emotion for women. I also love to read debates about women leadership and power quota. 51% of Americans are women, but only 3-5% make it into the Congress. Even Iraq and Afghanistan have more women in their parliamentary seats (which I don't even think I want to believe has an impact). I feel a little bit of suspicious with this statistic though. Do they take account lesbians and trans genders? I mean, who out there is considered a real woman nowadays? Even "normal" woman don't know a thing about womanhood.

And don't let me get started about global warming or how seriously insensitive war affects are towards both our environment and our economy. Burning cash, and loosing it. Double dip recession here we come.

Everyone just wants all this injustice to end. But it's a cycle. Something is always wrong. Someone is always blowing it up. Why do I feel like it's me? I blow up things. But I am not a terrorist. I'm not. I want good things to happen. I want peace and kindness. I want people to be happy. But I feel like it's so hard to want myself to be happy at the same time. Does that make sense?

They say you can lose your mind if you over think things. A lost cause, I had lost my previous mind before. And now trying to hold unto this other mind of mine. Seemingly more angelic like. Better attuned to what the world needs. Oh come on Grace, it must have been sent by the birds of heavens themselves. That's how freaking nice it.

When I am writing a story, I hate it that I get stuck in the middle. Writers block. And I have no idea how to overcome it. These ideas are swirling in my head. The climax and the end. Now I just need the building bridges of the story to get there. Hilal was right, I don't have discipline. He told me to make a schedule, but how do you force yourself to put out ideas? God, I feel like a swamp pit.

Or when I am sketching and I just can't figure out what the piece is suppose to mean. From the idea to the creation. I haven't reached there. I am stuck here, in the in-between.

Every night, without my wall-the safety net is gone. The weather will keep tormenting me now, like my heart always does anyway. With the knowledge of knowing I am no longer waiting- my life has started, and I am bloody wasting it. I already know there are too many reasons to fight and continue this 'war'. And I fear like hell, that I might die tonight. I might never get to reach anything. Might never change. Might end up in hell.

They say Taqwa is a good thing. Fearing your Lord is what makes you "be careful to walk over the road for thorns" (as quoted by Umar Al-Khattab). I don't understand how much more of this fear I can take.

There is always that reality that I might never get a shot at heaven, and I might end up in hell, where I deserve to be. I can just imagine the shackles and the heat and the terror of torture. (This is what happen when you read and write about death-Dead and Barzakh)

And that scares me the most. This unsure feeling. Unclear. Everything so undecided.
From before life to death. This world is my in-between isn't?

13:38- "Find peace of heart by remembering and saying His name...."
Have been clean for 7 days now. And the journey is still too long.

The reply

2011-10-15T14:20:00.000-07:00

“Abraham explained, “Allah has said…

“Your calling my name is My reply.

Your longing for Me is My message to you.

All your attempts to reach Me

Are in reality My attempts to reach you.

Your fear and love are a noose to catch Me.

In the silence surrounding every call of “Allah”

Waits a thousand replies of “HereI am.”
— Rumi

Maggie, Fantasy, Rumi.

Trying to explainfeelings of the divine- in words- is such a beautiful art.

The High

2011-10-13T14:04:00.000-07:00

Like a drug, you pull it away and you get the case of the DT's, the shivering, the relapse.
I had a favorite drug, that I had on me for so long. And it was a complete pleasure to hold it for as long as I could. Releasing it, has been an explosive experience.

Escapism is the perfect drug. Was.

1. Perfect the stance of time
2. Condemn the demon of it's words
3. Hold the sword in it's cover-tight
4. Release the ghost of you
5. Inhale the ancient language of your future
6. Walk over paint and soul words, don't look pretty

7. Get ready for the next ultimate high, will you?
-I'm done with the one, I was on.

What is Escapism?

"... escapism may ultimately become addictive. For example, current studies are now focusing on the emerging condition of Internet addiction. In Internet addiction, people may spend most hours of the day and night surfing the Internet. They may do so in preference to working in the world, or in preference to having “real life” relationships with other people. What begins as a mere search on a topic, may end in a life lived in front of a computer monitor when escapism becomes extreme.

Some people argue that those who get excessively involved as fans of certain television shows or series of books are pursuing an unhealthy level of escapism. For example, people look to Trekkies, or comic books fans that dress up or attempt to live as their favorite characters, as having lost themselves in escapism. In their defense, many devoted fans live very normal lives, and have children, relationships and regular jobs. However, they may spend their weekends attending conferences to escape into an idealized world that seems a better substitute than exploring the hard truths of this world.
Activities perceived normal, like eating, sleeping or sexual activity may also be deemed as escapist when they are practiced in excess. For example, sleeping over half the day to the point where one cannot pursue a normal life is termed escapism. Such sleeping may be caused by illnesses that creates exhaustion, or may actually be symptomatic of mental illnesses like depression. Often the person uses sleep as escapism from a life filled with emotional or physical pain...."

"....when escapism runs rampant, it prevents us from living in the world as truly engaged. It can lead to addiction, breakdown of relationships and inability to actually survive in the real world. Moderate escapism, on the other hand, may actually make us more effective participants in the world, since we allow ourselves to take mental breaks that reduce our stress..."

Overcoming Addiction and Escapism

The Cycle of Escapism

Everyone feels the desire to escape. No matter how good you have it, there are times when, instead of dealing with problems, you’d rather pretend they don’t exist. We turn to bad habits because they allow us to forget. They give us a pleasurable sensation that pushes problems out of mind. The downfall of this solution is that it’s only temporary. The feeling wears off and the problems remain, often made worse by our indulgence. Once again faced with our problems, the natural reaction is to escape again.This is the cycle of escapism. We feel pain each time we face reality, so we use a bad habit to escape, which only increases our pain, making us more desperate to escape. Each time around it takes more sensation to escape, increasing our dependency on a bad habit. When you get caught in the whirlpool of escapism, it can feel impossible to get out.

~ Nobody ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices. ~
Alfred A Montapert

~You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today. ~
Abraham Lincoln

~Death, after all, is the common expectation from birth. Neither heroes nor cowards can escape it. ~
Ellis Peters

~The best way to escape a problem, is to solve it~

Alan Saporta.
.
.
.
Drugs are only good until you take too much, than your supposed to.

Missing

2011-10-13T13:19:00.000-07:00

I don't miss a name.

I miss looking at a set of eyes.

I miss hearing a soothing, trusting voice.

I miss feeling that overwhelmed sense of security.

That possibility. Forever in the air.

I don't miss your words,

I miss reading something that made me feel special,

I miss waiting on something exciting

and seeing a great memory

I missed a hug, a pat, a warm embrace

I missed listening to someone's heart

I don't miss a person,

I miss warmth,

I miss laughter,

I miss feeling free, exposed,

I miss the feeling of ever after

I don't miss being there,

Or being anywhere I had or used to be,

I miss the sensation of the rolling events,

the swelling pride and love in the next day, and the next.

It is true. Only God is in power of giving sadness...or laughter.

With whomever, for whatever reason. It was granted by Him. A gift, a test. A testimony. A statement.

No one human, one event, can be in power to give it to you by will. So will you not be grateful to the Lord then?

Because when it's gone, I truly, really miss.

Not the person nor the reason, but the blessing of that feeling.

"And He gave you all you ask for....and if you count the blessings of Allah, never will you be able to count them..." 14:34

p/s I miss speaking in English. Badly.

heart like fire

2011-10-08T13:02:00.000-07:00

i have a heart, like fire

it burns when there is hope
trying to ease off the cold

inflamed with passion, brightly
wiped out with dense of tears, sadly

at one moment it grows, strongly
then suddenly, it flickers, dangerously

i have a heart, like fire

touch me, ouch, you burn
stand at a distance, pleasure with warmth

resist holding, and you will see me wither silently
the heart, like fire, turned coal

inside, it burns and burns
trying to push me to survive

but i know, all flames die out
they end their burn

even,
this heart of mine,
like fire

***

no, i am not good in poetry,
but it sounds better now, than before.

moon graffiti

2011-10-04T23:46:00.000-07:00

A title of a book that I can't get out of my head.

The moon shines, over all these buildings and trees. You reach me.
Like a form of bright senseless graffiti.

1. A lot of people like to elude themselves in their thoughts.
2. Many of us have pain to share.
3. Everyone wants it to go away.

1.3 billion poor people in the world 70 percent are woman.
Nearly one billion people are illiterate, 2/3 of them are woman.
Estimated One-fourth of woman in the world have been beaten, physically or emotionally abused.

If there is a love story for everyone to end up happy I would gladly give it for free.
And leave me, with my moon graffiti.

'Laughter is but the shadow of sorrow.'
Smile please.

Time to heal

2011-10-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

My dad bought me a new watch.

It's a guy watch. From fossil, with big leather straps, and a giant face showing off large numbers and even has space for seconds. I didn't like complicated watches, though, when I look back at how my dad and I bought it. I too wondered why I didn't just go with what I was used to.

I used to always have the same type of watch. Then, a year before, the battery died. And I didn't buy a new battery. I just kept it. And I was used to not using it. I never thought of going to a shop, repairing it, or getting a new watch.

Then, last holiday break, my parents insisted (and I mean forced me- literally), to choose and buy a watch. And I was torn between not wanting to buy one and not wanting to hurt their feelings.

I just have a bad excuse.

So, as I was scanning all these branded pretty watches, none of them came close to me having that shopping epiphany of- OMG I must have this, or something. I was just, staring into space, my heart not really into it. I figure if I made facial expressions that indicated as if I wanted them, but end up changing my mind and not wanting them. Then maybe...maybe, my parents would leave me alone. But I can't even pretend to be happy as I look at the alien objects of square and circle tick tock-ing before me.

I know why. It's because I am so used to having one particular object with me, all the time, so intimate to be called "my intimate" belongings, that it kinda made me nervous to replace them.

I don't know what kind of psychological disorder this is. But I have it. I have some personal connection with my personal objects. And honestly, that freaks me out.

As not to disappoint anyone, I settled for a guy watch-Fossil brand, insisting that it was unisex and that I was completely made to wear it. I think the shop keeper thought I was nuts. (Don't you want Gucci, D&G, Tokyo...bla bla bla).

It looks kinda like this, but with a pale yellow screen and big yellow numbers.

Or seriously something similar like this, but just different color.

I wore it the first time today, and ok, I felt kind of silly having it wrapped over my wrist loosely (because it was too big), and I had to always pretend to look at it- just so I could pass the time doing something.

In a sense, it made me comforted that I hadn't "replaced" anything. I pretended I had borrowed the watch from my dad- it's not, brand new. Not brand new. Not brand new (yeah right).

My heart, is kind of nervous of holding on to something new. I can't bear that moment when you hold it closely and dear to you, and then it just walks away, the battery dies, it's being replaced. I stop myself from getting too close. Too attached. Too comfortable. I don't know. My heart just has a hard time grabbing on again. It's nervous, caused with a weird fanatical subconsciousness illogical attachment of the past- that grips me deeply.

I wish my "borrowed" watch would tell me the time I would heal already.

They say, this is all non-Islamic and a true Muslim moves forward. I mean, come on, God is always there for you. He knows best. There is nothing in this world that can hurt you. Seriously. But being a human, always gets affected, whether we like it or not. I am both, and I am me.

What if I can never have a new watch, ever?

What if I can't ever fall in love again?

Perfect Values: a western Asian conclusion

2011-09-30T12:04:00.000-07:00

I have always been confused.

At some point, like so many others, I have been raised in a western-like environment, that only, until now...I feel fully aware to embrace these values as my own. Yet, in a weird sense, I have also molded myself into understanding and following the Asian/eastern values inculcated in me due to my cultural and ethnic background.

I used to be so confused as to choose between the two.

Ok, I was eight when I started my life in Malaysia. But it was a significant age for me "to grow up". My parents both had studied in the States, and were thrilled and impressed by the education system there. Returning to Malaysia, they had progressively and steadily educated me in such an environment. I wished I had remembered what I had learned in the States, but honestly, if it wasn't because I was taught from scratch by my parents- I wouldn't have been this "western".

Western values embrace individualism...the center of "You" as the center of your own story and your own struggle and purpose in life. Other western values like, questioning authority, speaking up and using freedom of speech, the struggle to reach our dreams, equality, importance in ethics and a superior sense of self analysis and observation.

Unlike Eastern Values, that pressed on the importance of the society and becoming a part of the whole. The general thinking wasn't about you, it was always about everyone else. Obligations were raised superior than dreams- contributing to your family was more important than reaching your goal. The society was the heart of every decision and every movement.

The western ideology embraces the one person's struggle to find purpose and success. They're inner search for self revelation is their purpose, and everything is possible for them to achieve if you work hard for it. There is no superior power that can over throw your ability to dream and reach it. As in many Western Cartoon shows- mostly examples from Disney, that always conclude "You can do anything if you dream hard enough. The Power is in Your hands. You make your own destiny."

sources: East VS West

Equality is also a very famous ideology initiated from the West. As history shows, feminism- a famous group that fights for this equal right has deeply affected society's way of thinking. As a woman, I was told I had the same field to succeed as a man. In the 21st century I was told of the possibility of becoming someone important in a society- something back in the old days, were considered taboo and weird. Gender roles blurred. Society barriers taken down. Society wasn't the leader that defined you anymore, you defined society.

Liberty, freedom everything else entangled. The power to change anything you want, for the better of your people and your country.

As some of you may know, I used to be (but am not proud) a very obsessed feminist. I loved the idea of an equal playing field. So different than the east, that sought pressure in gender roles and certain expectations we should all commit to, unwillingly. There was a psychological propaganda seeping in eastern society that condemn people who left their "roles and responsibilities", acting out for self-purpose, was considered selfish. Don't lie, even now, traditional roles are still shaping our way of thinking. "Oh that girl cannot cook, and she must be a bad mother." Or "Oh that man is not the bread winner, he must be a bad husband."

Illustration of west (promoting strength in an individual) VS east (promoting strength as a whole)

The west (you want something go for it) VS east (by pass obstacles and birokrasi to obtain something)

Eastern values center on the weakness and negativity of something,and take these stories as a "lesson" for the society. We constantly make bad endings as our analysis to conclude: we cannot do this. Without understanding if we can change the result. Also, very sorry to high light this- but Eastern values tend to conclude easily and simplify understandings- because of their main devotion towards a superior being, or submitting themselves to the society. For example, if everyone else says "western values" is bad, thus we must all conclude that western values are bad.

I remember writing in a Malay Essay, the consequences of globalization, and stating that the "television gives Western influences to kids" and thus, this is the cause of social problems- how simple minded and illogical was that?

But out of all that, the one important value I truly learned from my parents, was the importance to stand your ground and question authority, speak up and embrace freedom of speech. Something eastern values oppress because of the cause of becoming a whole. Speaking out and 'causing trouble' was deemed as hateful and spiteful. It was better to "talk behind backs" and only swallow suffering alone, for the sake of other people. "Cakap berlapik" is the society's way being ethical and having manners. But how true is this when indirectly, it also teaches us unable to accept something whole heartily, and admit the truth?

Though my parents directly allowed these western influence, they didn't let me grow alone with these values. Insisting that I enter a religious school (everyone was fully Malay) when I was thirteen, I guess, you can say Eastern values were taught to me indirectly but effectively.

The best thing I like about eastern values, is the importance of manners and a sense of deep respect to the elderly. Western Values sought questioning authority and 'lashing' out was a way of expressing yourself, even in their movies they show teenagers who shout back at their parents. And when the teenager becomes a mom, her child lashes out on her, and the cycle continues? Parents weren't seen as authority, the government was cruelly put down and ripped apart even due to the smallest of mistakes. People whom earned respect weren't given it easily. And I learned that without respect- no matter how right you are, doesn't count as doing something right.

western Culture also emphasizes the importance of family,

but it is slowly crippling due to it's immoral absence

Eastern Values also enforces the importance of family and thinking about others. Being a family-centered person myself. I can't imagine living solely for the sake of my career and personal dream, while leaving ever other part of my family member helpless. I've learned to make decisions involving the people I love. And most importantly, I've learned that there really is not greater reward than the happiness of the people around you. In the west, you can clearly see how brittle the family constitution is, and how NGO's, the government and charity activities have to take place in order to help neglected children and broken homes.

And there something about our Eastern culture that shies away from Materialism. But sought towards spiritual strength and family ties as the main goal in life. And this impresses me even more. In the west, you measure success mainly by how many materials or money you have. But eastern society has managed to overcome that inaccurate obsession and focus more on the empowerment through spiritual divine. Eastern values press on integrity and virtue, taking self meditating (muhasabah) as the best way to improve yourself. Everything is inner development. Being able to create it as an outer development, is a surplus.

Though Western ideology always argues on logic and science (something I also tend to agree), our Eastern values are able to reap the understanding that there are things in this world that we cannot understand, and we find peace by coming in to terms with it. Whereas the west, find this "unexplained" theory of fate, of things out of their control, and miracles to be only for the weak, who submit their minds to a "divine". We can clearly watch the affects on their society- that hangs on mostly nothing but fragile trust over themselves. How many songs, movies and dramas have you watched questioning fate, questioning the power of love, questioning life? western ideologies 'submit' themselves into searching for full supreme empowerment, and having deep inferiority with things unexplained.

I have watched all 8 parts!

For an example, is the famous writer JK Rowling, whom like so many others who were integrated with western Values, question the life after death- and the theme of accepting something unable to be understood, through her Harry Potter books.

Eastern values also take pride in culture and the beauty of an identity through family and society. I have told many of my friends that my favorite dress is the kebaya (my parents let me wear it at home haha). And I really really love batik art more than anything else (merging color). I am mystified by the complicating culture Asians strive on. The colors, the tradition, the taste and smell, all wrap a sense of homeyness and belonging.

(click to read: really easy to understand)

You can imagine my confusion growing up, I've been ashamed of my western back ground before, or feeling uncomfortable with my eastern surroundings too long, to end up muddled by the right principles and values to take and live on.

I think, it never really counts as either anymore. After attending high school, I was very skeptical over western teachings and hated it tremendously, only because I saw the weakness it brought. I wanted to be a Malay girl, but I was unable to fully accept the unfulfilled setting it too had.

I think it was when I returned back to Malaysia, last holiday break, that I really asked my parents. "Did you think I would grow up to be this western, or this Eastern?"

I think my mom was the one who said, "Why are you asking that? We've never really thought of you being either."

"What?"

"If you wanted to be western, it didn't matter, if you wanted to follow your Asian roots, it didn't matter. Yang penting, ia benda yang baik dan betul."

As long as it's right?

Globalization has blurred the barriers between western and eastern cultures, merging us even more. Until we cannot truly say we are either western or eastern valued people anymore. Though it is sad, that there are people whom condemn the west for it's superiority and transparency, shying away from modernization, technology and national improvement (like so many oppressed countries like North Korea and Iran), just to shut themselves from "the bad western influence". Haven't they seen the rewards they can reap from these values?

And it is even a bigger shame, to see so many Malays, Asians, whom feel that modernization, that self improvement and freedom is only obtained by taking whole heartily western values- while diminishing their eastern upbringing. You are only considered strong if you dress like the west? If you lash out to your government like the west do, that is all freedom of speech? And becoming modern is drinking wine and partying with girls?

The best part about living in a globalized world is reaping benefits from both sides, and still calling them both your own. I used to feel weird admitting I had strong western values, but at the same time feeling a sense of loyalty to my eastern background. Both of these values helped cover up each others flaws and imperfectness.

I just think this pic is cool

In a very interesting article: Why The West Craves Materialism &Why The East Sticks To Religion, I found the writers interesting conclusion about both of these different values.

The greatest impact of believing in God for me, meant that I lost all fear of human beings. The Qur'an liberates man from man when it says that life and death and respect and humiliation are God's jurisdiction, so we do not have to bow before other human beings. (breaking from eastern value norm to submit to society)

Moreover, since this is a transitory world where we prepare for the eternal one, I broke out of the self-imposed prisons, such as growing old (such a curse in the Western world, as a result of which, plastic surgeons are having a field day), materialism, ego, what people say and so on. It is important to note that one does not eliminate earthly desires. But instead of being controlled by them, one controls them.

By following the second part of believing in Islam, I have become a better human being. Rather than being self-centered and living for the self, I feel that because the Almighty gave so much to me, in turn I must use that blessing to help the less privileged. This I did by following the fundamentals of Islam rather than becoming a Kalashnikov-wielding fanatic.

I have become a tolerant and a giving human being who feels compassion for the underprivileged. Instead of attributing success to myself, I know it is because of God's will, hence I learned humility instead of arrogance.

Through my faith, I have discovered strength within me that I never knew existed and that has released my potential in life. I feel that in Pakistan we have selective Islam. Just believing in God and going through the rituals is not enough. One also has to be a good human being. I feel there are certain Western countries with far more Islamic traits than us in Pakistan, especially in the way they protect the rights of their citizens, or for that matter their justice system. In fact some of the finest individuals I know live there. -Imran Khan

In the end, I found out not to pride on either west or east, but pride on humanity as a whole. Pride on a system that does justice by implementing both values with equal importance. A platform to understand and recreate myself with the benefits of a global perfection. A system that is perfect not for either, but for the whole.

"We do not fight for each sides, west or east, we stand on the values of humanity. We live for humanity."

"There has to be one system perfect for all of humanity. Is it possible to reach it?"

"Yang penting, ia benda yang baik dan betul....yang penting ia adalah Islam."

The perfect value, must be perfect in the eyes of Islam.

***

P/s what values do you hold on from either west or east part?

P/s-2 Do you noticed Islam was brought up in the West Asia (Arab country) part of the world? Where two worlds meet? cool huh?

P/s-3 You have to read these cool articles!

Why Islam- Ismail Faruqi

Eastern VS Western Consciousness -Roy Posner

Islam the Perfect Relegion and The best way of Life for ALL

Women are Economist, Men are Doctors

2011-09-11T22:48:00.000-07:00

Kalau ada satu subject yang saya rasa nak wajibkan semua orang untuk belajar, selain relegion, saya seriously rasa wanita patut belajar ekonomi....dan lelaki patut belajar health.

Ekonomi memerlukan orang yang menjana duit (producers), dan orang yang menggunakan duit (consumers) dan dua-dua adalah peranan kuat wanita. Kini peratus consumer terbanyak adalah wanita. Sebagai natural care giver, barang keperluan rumah 80% pembeli tetap, menurut Women & Economy, adalah wanita. DAlam market dunia juga, wanita mewakili 2 pertiga consumer percentage. Ini memberi wanita, kuasa yang luar biasa sebagai pembeli, kerana market mengharap dan bergantung terhadap apa yang wanita ingin beli!

Artikel menarik: Women Shopping Power

Women in World Market

Membeli, atau nama glamournya "shopping", seperti yang saya observe, adalah satu kerja yang tidak berbayar tetapi buat mereka yang bijak shopping ia akan memberi ganjaran yang berlipat kali ganda. Wanita biasanya terpaksa memikirkan budget dan membeli dengan duit yang ada sahaja, tetapi wanita juga mempunyai keinginan yang luar biasa untuk memastikan perkara yang dibelinya memenuhi kriteria-kriteria tertentu. Kena cantik, kena nampak expensive walaupun murah, warna kena matching, etc, etc. Lihat, peranan wanita dalam menentukan 'apa' yang akan dijual dalam market. Wanita juga berperanan menjadi Quality controllers, dengan kuasa membeli mereka, barangan yang tidak berfaedah kepada mereka, tidak akan survive dalam market.

Berani saya kata, ekonomi ini tidak akan maju jikalau tidak ada wanita.

Wanita pada masa yang sama menjadi Accountant (money controller), dan pada masa yang sama, menjadi investor, kerana terpaksa memikirkan segala kelebihan dan keburukkan sebelum membeli, meletakkan duit, pada sesuatu. Shopping is a form of investment. Wanita yang bijak ekonomi, akan memahami perananya untuk mengawal kemasukan dan keluaran duit isi rumah, dan berkira bila nak guna duit yang diberi suami. Wanita yang pandai, jugak akan cuba sedaya upaya untuk mengelakkan pembaziran dan fokus kepada investment jangka panjang seperti membeli keperluan rumah yang selamat VS rumah yang cantik, makanan berkhasiat VS makanan yang sedap, baju yang tahan lama VS baju yang mengikut trend semasa. Bak kata figura shopaholic terkenal Rebecca Bloomwood, yang selalu bertanya "Is this a good investment?".

Realitinya, ramai wanita jatuh pada keinginan dunia yang tidak economy-savvy langsung. Instead of menjadi berkuasa kerana membeli, wanita dikuasai pula gejala shopping ini. Ramai yang tidak memahami konsep pelaburan jangka masa panjang VS jangka masa panjang. Ramai juga yang lebih memenuhi kehendak dari keperluan. Ramai wanita juga gagal memahami keperluan takaful, menyimpan duit, dan menjana kapital.

Mesti kalau wanita dah arif dengan ekonomi, suami-suami mereka nak bagi diorang nafkah pun,tak rasa risau sangat. Tiba-tiba wanita pulak yang bila dapat nafkah terus membuat financial budgeting, key in berapa peratus masuk simpanan, berapa peratus akan dilabur beli saham, berapa banyak yang diperlukan untuk rumah, diperlukan untuk save beli kereta, berapa peratus nak simpan untuk beli company sendiri etc, etc. Gaji 2000 ringgit pun tidak mustahil, jika di uruskan dengan baik dari awal, dalam jangka masa yang panjang, dapat memberi pelbagai manfaat.

Kalau wanita memahami peranan mereka as quality control dalam market. Sememangnya mereka akan menggunakan kuasa mereka, dan memastikan perkara-perkara keperluan keluarganya ditingkatkan kualitinya, dikurangkan harga. Kini barang-barang seperti susu dan pampers dan keperluan kanak-kanak yang essential mendapat harga "keinginan" dan bukan harga "keperluan"...sepatutnya wanita menggunakan kelebihan mereka untuk protest apa-apa bentuk keuntungan yang tidak berpatutan terhadap barang-barang keperluan seperti ini!

Kalau wanita patut belajar economy, lelaki memang kena belajar health. Sejak cuti sebulan, ayah saya ada jatuh sakit, dia sanggup tahan sakit sampai seminggu, sebelum dibawa ke hospital untuk menerima rawatan. Gelak saya dengan umi melihat kelagat ayah saya. Memang lelaki terkenal dengan sikap mereka yang tidak suka berjumpa doktor.

Kalau wanita, sentiasa risau akan perubahan-perubahan yang berlaku pada badannya. Lelaki, kebanyakkannya merasakan ia tidaklah "macho" untuk risau pada sakit yang mampu dia tahan. Dalam artikel 101 Real Reasons Why Men don't go to the Doctor, memberi senarai sebab yang tidak dapat saya pahami. Mungkin kerana saya bukan lelaki. Tetapi inilah hakikatnya kan?

Jadi kalau dah tahu sikap mereka begitu, sepatutnya mereka belajar sendiri mengenai health. Tak semestinya Medic, tetapi mengenai penjagaan diri dan badan. Kini tengok gejala selepas kahwin, lelaki seolah-olah diberi kebenaran untuk mengamalkan gaya hidup yang tidak sihat. Physical activity dan exercise sangatlah penting untuk lelaki. As men increase in age, they have to increase the constant exercise, ada specialist yang kata meningkat 35 tahun, physical activity should be added another 30 minutes to the normal routine. Lelaki yang makin berusia, kalau tak jaga diri dengan betul boleh menghadapi pelbagai penyakit merbahaya.

"As men get older, risk for heart disease increase, erectile dysfunction, and depression increase." Kata Web Md

Lelaki bertangunggjawab memberi nafkah- itu termasuk makanan dan tempat tinggal. Walaupun dia memuji 'makanan emak yang paling sedap', dia akan sedar, bahawa trend makanan Melayu sememangnya tidak dapat memenuhi kriteria makanan yang berkhasiat! Dia akan memastikan hanya makanan yang berkhasiat sahaja disajikan keluarganya. Dan dia akan menjaga pemakanan dia, dan bukan mengikut nafsu makannya.

Barulah lelaki boleh hidup lama kan? Why women outlive men?

Kadang-kadang menyedihkan, lelaki yang tidak mengamalkan gaya hidup sihat, sebenarnya memberi risiko kepada keluarganya untuk turut sama tidak hidup dalam gaya yang sihat. Kebanyakkan hard smokers adalah lelaki, dan second hand smokers yang paling berisiko tinggi adalah anak-anak dan isteri mereka. Lelaki yang memahami health, akan melihat kesan buruk smoking itu, dan cuba sedaya upaya untuk menjaga keluarganya dan diri sendiri dari menghadapi risiko sedemikian.

Lelaki yang health conscious juga, akan dapat memahami keperluan wanita ketika mengandung dan berpantang. Kan best, ada mini-doctor dekat rumah? Save beribu ringgit asyik nak jumpa consultant ini dan itu. Dia akan memahami apa yang diperlukan wanita untuk menjaga hormonal imbalance-nya.

Mental dan emotional health juga penting. Confidence kanak-kanak akan dijaga, mereka tidak akan dibiasakan dengan suasana digertak dan diugut, kerana ingin menjaga mental health mereka. Lelaki akan menerapkan nilai-nilai positive, dan aktiviti-aktiviti yang positive. Instead, of just biarkan anak-anak dia balik rumah tengok tv, dia akan peruntukkan aktiviti yang sihat untuk anak-anak dia.

Walaupun yang saya cakap ini seperti gender bias, sebenarnya both women and men have to learn economy and health, for their own good. Women zaman sekarang pun die of heart disease akibat tak menjaga diri sendiri, men juga ada yang penjudi tegar dan tidak economy savvy. Saya sahaja nak rungkaikan relationship peranan kita yang berbeza dan sikap kita as men and women.

In the end, kalau belajar banyak-banyak pun, yang paling penting, adalah apa yang kita buat dengan ilmu tu kan?

*Tidak berniat menyinggung sesiapa. Ingat, ilmu berguna hanya bila diguna!

DAB: Part 8-1

2011-09-11T03:32:00.000-07:00

In the second I thought I was falling, the next I was staring face down on the hospital floor. Everything had moved quickly. When you were dead, things didn't move in days, hours or minutes anymore. There was just before, now and soon.

A few seconds ago, I thought I would've been a giant snake's next pinata toy. Now, I was surprised to turn my face and find Izzy sitting on the hospital floor, holding herself together, making me feel guilty. Even if we were now in back in my first phase of the after life, where my body was- in the hospital, soon, I would have to return and find Daniel.

It was like a burning desire I couldn't erase. I had to get my brother back.

But now, my world was here, on the hospital floor beside a not so happy Angel. I got my face off the floor and patted my clothes, trying helplessly to save some wrinkles even if I was dead.

I sighed. Izzy had her knees up to her chin, her cheek resting on them, turned away from me.

"Izzy, we're alive." I said trying for a miracle. "Well, I am dead, but no one was hurt, ok? Will you stop being mad at me."

I moved in to sit closer to her. For an Angel of Death, she was pretty good at playing girl with me. And I had never had a sister or a girlfriend. I was clueless.

Then I realized she was watching something. A man pushing a wheelchair of a young woman who wore an ugly yellow hijab and the wrong faint blue robe. But her face was so radiant, so happy. You could feel the burn from where we were sitting. And you could see, in her arms, the reasons for her happiness. A bundle of pink cheeks, a small baby.

New parents. They looked so happy. It hurt to look at them with all that happiness, but it was hard to look away.

"I wished I had that." Izzy said softly. I wasn't sure if she had intended for me to hear it.

I had never met Angels that had wanted babies. Weren't they suppose to be empty of personnel heeds?

Careful not to make her startled, I stood up slowly and looked at her. There was a vending machine, I thought of getting a couple of drinks. But then I remembered we were dead, and I shouldn't be drinking anymore. So I said, "Let's go for a walk."

***

Syitaa' was one of the weathers I couldn't decide to like or hate. I liked to be escaped of the blazing hot summer sun. But I hated the sudden cold winds that blew everything in my face.

Dead, nothing effected me now. So I still couldn't like or hate it, because now, I just can't make up my mind even more.

But it was nice to take a walk outside the hospital grounds. I realized we were in KAUH, King Abdullah's University Hospital. If Izzy and I were lucky we could spot some Malaysian students around, taking their clinical years.

That was a weird thing to hope for.

"Your in your second year aren't you?" Izzy asked. We had been walking aimlessly for a few minutes, and I was glad she was the one breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I was."

"What would you have done if you'd graduated?"

That was a hard question. Partly because I had never imagined myself graduating. It would be like I had accomplished something. And I had long given that up.

"I don't know."

"You've never thought what you were going to do after graduation?" Izzy asked exasperated.

"Yeah, well, you know, I never really thought I ever would." I said defensively.

"You were planning on killing yourself before graduation?"

"What? No, it wasn't like that..." I had always thought of suicide, ever since I came, but I had never really intended on doing it. Why was that? "I just never thought I would have the will to really finish my studies, graduate and be someone."

"Liar." Izzy said throwing bits of flower and leaves she had plucked from the bushes of flowers beside her. It didn't hurt. But I saw the small baldness of the plant, and felt sorry for it. "You've always wanted to graduate."

"Whoah, hold on their, you might be an Angel, but you can't read my mind." Can she?

"I don't have to."

Izzy circled the plant she had partially destroyed, caressing it slowly, as if an apology. "Before you....got hit by the car...you were closing your face. If you had wanted to die, you would've accepted it easily. But you tried to save yourself, as much as you could."

She stared into my eyes. Holding me with a gaze. She had real black eyes, the ones that gleam like onyx. Well, the girl she was formed into did. And those crazily long eye lashes over them, made me remember barbie doll commercials.

I can't remember how many times I had noticed them now.

"Daud, you think you want to die. But deep, deep down you really want to live, don't you?"

DAB: Part 7

2011-09-11T00:53:00.000-07:00

Daniel, he loved to read the Holy book. To hear it all the time.

I didn't remember since when it had been a major significance for him. All of a sudden, one day, he would end our soccer games early, or get ready to school pretty late. And I would find him, quietly sitting in our room, not facing the door, not facing me, reciting the verses to himself.

I read it too, I went to religious school, we had programs and events to read it, sometimes in class. Sometimes while waiting for our Friday prayers.

But it never had made sense to me to read it so willingly, daily, so diligently. I mean, I wasn't a bad person. I felt perfectly fine being who I was. I stayed out of trouble. I helped out the people I loved and handled life troubles like any other person. So I wasn't wearing a white robe. I wasn't praying intensively. But I was me. And I tried to be a good person. Even if I probably wasn't a religious one.

Though, sometimes, as I saw Daniel read so ferociously, I wondered why he had never forced me to do the same. It was in his eyes, every time I sank into bed, trying to ignore him reading the verses to himself. He wanted me to be like him too.

Deep down, it angered me. It angered me that Daniel thought, that by not doing the same religious things he did, I was probably worst than he was. Sure I hear the preachers tell us about heaven and hell. I follow all the religious classes and I try my best.

I just didn't practice reading the Holy Book as much. Why?

What if I didn't have a reason. Did that make me a bad person?

***

The ceiling was rumbling and shaking, something was coming down those holes. Rocks, water, worst it could be Munk or Nank. or Both.

The man whimpered loudly. Shaking his head, trying to scramble, but he was chained to the ground. I didn't have time to help free him. Taking Izzy by the hand, we searched blindly for the a passage, a crack, anywhere to run through.

The rumbling and shaking intensified, we were groping the walls like blind men searching for light. Suddenly, the sound of something moving above us. Black, large, slithering.

Izzy gave an unhelpful gasp as both of us caught sight of the giant black snake circling the ceiling. It was probably big enough to eat me, Izzy and the man with one swallow. And the length of it went on forever.

I pressed Izzy behind my back, beckoning her to stay quiet. In the dark we heard the man protesting uselessly as the snake neared him. I felt inclined to do something, but I couldn't save all of us.

Mercilessly, the snake bit the man. On his shoulders, his feet. He was flailing his hands against the wall. The eerie sound of his nails scrapping the rock wall to try and save himself.

Then the snake began to poke him fiercelly, as if hitting him with the snake's skull. Crushing. I heard the man's bones crushing. He screamed, wailed. Then the pain overcame him. And only his mouth was wide open in never ending pain.

I pushed Izzy back words even more. Anywhere was better as long as it wasn't here. As long as the snake hadn't noticed us. I gripped Izzy's hand so hard, I could've broken her hand. Trying to warn her not to make a sound.

Suddenly she gave way and fell, the passage, we had found the passage.

The snake turned to the sound we had made. I didn't even take a second longer to think. Pushing Izzy through the dark hole, we ran.

We heard the snake hissing loudly, before making a horrific move to slither towards us. It's giant eyes, gleamed in the darkness, fixated at us.

"Don't look back." I told her desperately. As we ran, stumbled, as quickly as we could out of the passage.

I didn't remember it being so long. I felt like my knees were nearly giving way when suddenly we were reaching a dim opening.

Something was gleaming at the end, fire? No, the gleam of metal. Something shiny.

Too late. one of the grave Angels had heard us, he was carrying one of his tall spears. His look was that of murder.

"Whooooooooooooooooooooooo??" he bellowed. Before throwing his spear in our direction.

"Duck!!" both Izzy and I yelled simultaneously, watching the giant spear coming heading our direction. Both of us lying like feeble pancakes on the rocky ground.

The spear missed us by a couple of inches, though I was quick to learn not to feel so lucky. I pulled Izzy up, and pushed her to the side of the clip, just as a giant hissed echoed around the cave.

The snake, it size was just as big as the Grave Angel. The spear had scratched it's side, but I didn't see it bleeding. The snake pushed the spear away, as to make way and focus on us. That was a bad sign.

In a split second, I released Izzy's hand and ran forward to grab the spear. The snake saw me advancing forward and tried to bite me. I dodged by near inches. Trying to also not let the snake's tail to get a proper hold of me. The Grave Angel was running towards us, me, I reached for the snakes tail instead.

The snake angrily tried to shake me off, The Grave Angel was entangled in the snakes long curves. I crawled further on top to try and dodge both of them.

The snake saw me, and began to lung forward to bite. I rolled away, falling on parts of ground and snake skin. The snake hissed loudly as it bit itself. I saw a gleam in the dark. The grave Angel was making loud bellowing noises again, shaking the whole cave.

I reached for the spear. And threw it with all my might.

It was incredibly heavy, twice my height. And i missed. But I hit on rock and large bits of them were falling everywhere.

The Grave Angel, Munk or Nank, I couldn't tell the difference, reached for his spear and tried to stab me dead.

This time I moved as close as possible to the snake. Missed. The Grave Angel had stabbed the giant snake instead.

A loud hiss. falling rocks. I felt a hand. Izzy was pulling me somewhere. Away from here.

But there seem to be no escape. The snake and the Grave Angel were to big for us to go anywhere. We didn't have a place to run to, except away from them.

"Daud, we have to leave." Izzy pleaded. The snake recovered from the stab and encircled us deadly. The Grave Angel was enclosing on us too.

I thought of the hospital that I had first woke up in, I was glad to be dead then.

I didn't know I would end up dead like this.

Then everything went black and we were sucked into vortex.

DAB: Part 6

2011-09-10T23:58:00.000-07:00

The light of my cheap Nokia mobile phone gave us a poor imagination where we were. But it gave us some insight.

I could see rocks everywhere, and barely be able to glimpse the images of the dead bodies of seas, swimming, flowing, down below. We had passed many cliffs full of bodies, tortured and mangled. I figured there would be no easy exits. If we were to leave we had to do it the way we came in.

Though I wanted badly for Izzy, my Death Angel, to leave this terrible place. There was still that part of me, that felt she was still that same girl I had tried to muroqib before I died. Yet, I couldn't help but feel selfish for myself. I didn't want to leave. I had to find Daniel. He was dead. This was the grave world. He was here.

Probably screaming his lungs out, being tortured somewhere. Mangled. I couldn't think of that.

I saw a small passage, through every dead bodies new scream (thanks to us for awakening them), we had little time to escape. Munk and Nank, the angel's in charge here in the underworld, were looking for us. And giving them subtle hints where we were, wasn't going to make us look any better.

"C'mon." I beckoned to her to follow. And she was holding unto my shirt tighter without question. When dead, all sense of privacy was ripped off from you.

Following the long small passage. I was surprised that there were no bodies or organs sticking out anywhere. A crack? I didn't think the Underworld would have to deal with maintenance issues.

I wasn't sure what was on the other side. So I kept my mobile phone facing downwards as much as possible. Thanks to the fact we could be caught any moment and the heavy suspense of finding out where the passage lead us to, my mind couldn't be bothered to figure out why my mobile phone was working in the after life.

The passage stopped, I flashed my phone, and I thought it was a dead end. Then I caught sight of a the ceiling with a few holes circling around it. and realized they were holes to somewhere higher up. We were in another wider cave.

Correction, another grave. I saw a small thin man shackled by his feet to the ground. His whole body facing downwards. Probably starved, if he could be. Why he wasn't in one of those ruin holes from before was beyond. But everyone here was tied or hurting in some way.

For a dumb moment. I felt like I belonged here.

"Why is he here?" I asked Izzy, who was horror stricken by the sight of the man that wasn't moving on the floor. He wasn't dead, he already was.

She shook her head silently. I pressed again. "Izzy, dead people aren't supposed to feel pain. Why is everyone here screaming and looking like half mangled bits. Those other angel's why are they doing this to us?"

"After death you can't feel pain?" she repeated, in a mockery. 'Who told you that? Your mother?"

She took a rock from the ground, it had a sharp edge, before I could stop her she sliced the rock at my left arm. I winced back an unmanly "ouch" and looked up at her, surprised.

"I felt that." I said dumbstruck.

"Obviously." she threw the rock away. "Dying doesn't stop pain. Just because you've left your physical pain receptors back in the morgue, doesn't mean your soul can't feel pain."

"When your dead, you take the form or state of soul in, to be questioned here, in the underworld. It's the natural turn of things, no one is left to escape it. Who you are on earth, represents who you'll be here, in the Underworld."

"Munk and Nank are the angel's responsible to question human souls about what previous type of humans they were on planet earth, and they determine the perfect punishment for each of these souls."

"But that's like ending up doomed for eternity." I said accusingly. "You can't just torture people here, just because of who they were on earth. Without giving them a choice. That's not fair!"

"They were all warned." Izzy hissed back at me. "Earth was the place for choices, but here in the Underworld is the place for judgement. And Munk and Nank don't care about being fair."

I stumbled back, shocked. The piece of information was just too surreal for me to take in. What natural order was this? this was crazy.

"Is there a way to escape it?"

Izzy's humorlessness laugh was already a definite no. I felt trapped, with no way to get out. If there was no way souls can escape the Underworld. There would be no way for me to find and save Daniel.

Yet, Izzy herself was surprised that I was willing to spend my first After Life experience here. Probably there was no one else who had ever tried to escape before. before entering the Barzakh world, I could probably figure out a way, to stay in the in-between as long as possible. If I could come in, I could get out. And that was enough of a ticket out of here. Enough to save Daniel. And I was a soul with a mission.

"Not so happy about being dead now are we?" Izzy said taunting me. Twisting the ends of her red hijab. I hated the way I could make out bits and pieces of her face, even in the dark. From the bottom of her hijab, up till her cheeks and long eye lashes. I could piece together the picture of her face in my mind.

I thought Angel's were supposed to be pretty. And I was left with one looking like her.

"Nope. I'm figuring of a way to find Daniel." I said absent mindedly, turning towards the man on the ground. Who was still lying face down. He was hideously naked.

"Y-you can't be serious??" Her voice rose with anger. "Don't you see tortured people out there?? Swimming dead bodies?? We should return to the hospital and find an Angel to help you live!!"

"Not without Daniel." I said firmly. I probably sounded like a girl. But I didn't care.

I poked the head of the lying man with my foot. Thankful i was wearing shoes. He stirred.

Izzy tried to stop me, but I pushed her aside.

"Wake up." I didn't know where I got the courage to say it. To command the poor tortured man as if i owned the place.

He painfully tried to move as quickly as possible. He was frighten, and I understood why. But he hadn't seen me yet.

Though it felt wrong to hold him with my bare hands. I reached for his shoulders to help him up. He winced. And i realized his whole body was either pierced or badly bruised. A result of being struck repeatedly.

Whimpering loudly, I pushed him back a little too roughly so he would lean on the wall. His head bent. He didn't look at me. The man was crying. Shirt. He was crying.

"I'm not here to hurt you." I said trying to comfort him. Though I didn't know if that helped him being any less scared. I shook him a little to bring his full attention. "I need to find someone here, tell me how."

The man still wasn't looking at me. he shook his head. "No way to find others. I've been alone here for as long as I remember. We are all here, alone."

I gripped the man's shoulder in frustration. The man whimpered and I loosened my grip. Aware that Izzy was watching me warily, closer now.

I tried a different question. "Why are they different..." I didn't know what word to use. "...souls, in different caves and places of torture? How are you chosen to be where?"

"M-munk and N-nank...t-they put us... we belong." He was useless now, his words were all groggy and made little sense. He gripped my hand. My automatic response was to push his hand away. But the pressure in his fingers was so weak. I wasn't sure he was trying.

"Save me...s-slithers...h-he will come...save me..." the man begged. He looked up, and I stumbled back in surprise. His eyes were hollow, empty...like they were stabbed, pecked, ruined useless.

I didn't understand what he had meant. And then the ceiling shook.

Daud

2011-09-10T22:55:00.000-07:00

There were two types of pain in this world.

While my brother and I represented our school for a modest game of soccer. The other team were bullies, giants. They were mini soldiers that had gone out on the field trying to kill us. And we were being slaughtered shamefully in public view.

"Stop playing safe." Spat Aniq, our team leader, at us. Easy for him to say. We hadn't practiced that much and we were sitting gooses in the middle of a Malaysian Highway here.

But he was right, we were being scared for no reason. Inferior by the sights, our first game. And fear stopped us from focusing. From a chance of winning.

It was near half time, the other team had scored two to nil. And I wasn't going to let that prolong. As the ball was passed to me, I remember taking in a deep breath and just running. Then suddenly, it was as if I was a target for the CIA and everyone was coming to me. One of the players tried to take the ball from me, I barely skiddled my way through to the field. The goal, I was nearing.

The other team's player, he had thick eye brows, massive black hair. He looked like an asian gangster.
He swung his foot. Probably trying to kick the ball, probably trying to kick me. I didn't know.

But I know pain. He kicked me, in the shins, hard. And I could've stopped. I could've made him take the red card. My legs were throbbing so hard, I wanted to chop it off.

I couldn't, I wouldn't, I was so close, and this pain was tolerable, it was temporary. I ran, hoped. And kicked with my bad leg, the pain overcoming me. The ball entering the goal. The sound of a whisel and I collapsed.

I could take that kind of pain. I could hang on a little longer. I could kick a goal.

Yet, there was this pain I could never overcome. I couldn't remember where I got it. or how. I just knew it was there somewhere in me. Over my chest. Somewhere. Like a parasite, moving as I was moving. Growing as I was weakening. Pulling down the weight of my living. I wanted to pin the reason on Daniel's death. But I wasn't entirely sure if that was true.

It was probably already there before and only triggered massively after his death.

It wasn't killing me. But I was probably trying to make it kill me.

The pain made me think slowly and surely about when it would end. I was impatient to know when I would overcome it. When I would be stronger. When I would be free of it. Sometimes i imagined myself truly cured. Truly happy. Strong as i had hoped to be. Then I would suddenly realize that I wasn't cured, the pain was still there. Eating me, putting a stop to my dreams. Involuntarily I would stop breathing then.

There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of ending it. I could take in the pain of a knife. The pain of jumping off the edge of a building. I could probably endure the pain of drowning.

I wasn't born to be a coward. I wasn't afraid of death. But I couldn't handle the pain. I didn't want to.

Crazy as it seems, as I am already dead. Nearing the edge of a cliff with my Angel of Death, miraculously holding my hand phone for light that shone barely five inches from my face. It was weird to feel something familiar close clawing to my chest. The similar cry that wouldn't break out. Horrifically,even dead, I felt it.

"We have to get out of here." Izzy, my Angel, was pulling me to my attention. I couldn't see her face but I was aware she was trying to be distant at the same time holding the edges of my shirt. Chaste.

There were so many other screams. Here in Barzakh, everyone else was in pain, just as much as I was.
I nodded. Before I was too numb to do anything else.

We couldn't jump off the cliff into the sea of dead bodies. We had to turn back and find another way. I had to find a stop to this pain. I had to end it. I just had to.

Ajar Saya Menerima

2011-08-06T19:44:00.000-07:00

teach me to take, what has been given

i think, i feel a longing,

that is only vented through non-verbal existence,

thou shall not the heart waver,

what has been decided, stays.

i stay.

.................

[Imperfect Pieces]

dedicated specially to the AMM 10/11,

whom have been thick and thin with me.

it has been a wonderful experience,

thank you for letting me immortalize it.

they signed the sides of my painting, so i would remember.

[Leaves]

i don't think people like to use so much color,

but i just have so much to say and do,

it keeps me restless,

like leaves

[Frustrated]

i wish to learn and release my frustration like a bird

orang kata tak elok geram lama-lama

manusia, hidup, cabaran, tetap sama

biarkanlah ia datang, biarkanlah ia pergi

[Serabut, Telerai]

Rangkaian Bunga yang serabut, pada awalnya cantik,

terlerai bagaikan melepaskan beban

it is more than beautiful to my eyes,

Isn't it simple to...loosen like this?

[Sketch]

[Illusion]

i believe in certain selfish needs, loneliness, responsibility and trust.

working together, and dying.

but if you tell me more than that

at some point you know they are only,

illusions.

yes, i have walls, but i don't let them define me.

........

Makin susah nak mencari masa untuk melukis, kadang tu, sketch je sempat, color tak habis, but that's ok. I am learning to adapt, and Thank the Lord, I've proven I can balance my interest with great effort.

Sometimes rasa susah hati nak tulis dalam bahasa apa. it's confusing. some languages just doesn't mean as much as the other. and i can get tongue tied, and end up just not wanting to figure out what i mean.

As usual, manusia mengajar kalau kita ingin belajar. New situations and roles. I make mistakes all the time. Thankfully, I can learn at my own pace. Kita kena bersabar bila deal dengan kawan-kawan, dengan loved ones.

I feel guilty, mixed with relief and fear. guilty because i have plane tickets. relief because i think i did the best i can, before i move on to my next strategy as a student for my third year.

afraid because i am still drawing. why?

The Wonder

2011-08-01T16:55:00.000-07:00

A silent truce,

that ended in dust

No one heard me,

but I can hear me, all of me.

Swallowing my screams still,

Unfaithful to my heart,

true to my life

***

People give up and stay behind all the time.

They stop fighting for you.

They leave you and ruin themselves.

They wait to be saved.

Too many people. Too many people giving up on you.

They don't believe in you anymore.

There are too many who turn their backs.

Who walk away.

Be the wonder that stays.

"Teruslah percaya, jangan pernah undur, jangan pernah takut, jangan pernah gentar, sebab penat lelah kita ini suatu hari nanti akan dibayar, dan bantuan Allah itu akan sentiasa bersama-sama orang-orang yang berhati mulia yang ingin menjadikan hidup manusia lain lebih baik dan sempurna."

# There will be at least 468 new students in the upcoming year. My year. The one I already dreamed to give up on. To leave. if I did I would've missed the rush, the anxiety, the challenge.

And I am bloody glad I didn't.

Be ashamed to die

2011-07-29T12:10:00.000-07:00

"....be ashamed to die, until you've won victory for humanity" - Horace Mann, Educator

Fear of being useless to their friends, family and community.
Because in all purposes of understanding and committing, somehow, I know I don't belong.

I don't belong.

But I am ashamed to give up trying.

So I am trying.

Damsel of Death

2011-07-29T10:40:00.000-07:00

# NOTE: I don't believe in Astrology study, like horoscopes. But I understand the scientific reasons of mood swings and the influence over human nature and nurture. So putting it that way, it is when I find upon facts like these, I am not surprised how nearly so similar they are with myself.

Though their suggestions are very positive, there also other suggestions we can take in account for.

I was born on June 6. The day the Christians believed Damien the Omen was borned. He/she is destined to plot Mankind to their doom, and to what certain beliefs hold a grudge to what the Call of Damsel of Death. The day Death started singing.

In Islam I was born in the month of Dzul-Qaedah, also known as the Month of Truce or Peace for always holding events that stop, end or prevent from war.

I like that one better.

Info on Gemini/ 6th of June.

Geminis born June 6 are remarkable individuals and have a need to express themselves through artistry and words. They have unbounded curiosity and never tire of learning new things.

Gemini Information
for June 6You should embrace:Contentment, spiritual peace, tradition

You should avoid: Tension, negativity, hopelessness

Friends and Lovers

June 6 individuals are psychological magnets, drawing to them the individuals best equipped to teach them what they need to learn about life. Where love is concerned, they tend to fall in love deeply (?), and if they are severely disappointed, they can take a lifetime to get over it.

Children and Family

Family life has a powerful effect on these individuals. As children they were no doubt highly imaginative and may have been left to their own devices. This tendency toward escapism is evident in their behavior even as adults. With their own children they will either discourage too much play-acting, or they will encourage it for the emotionally enriching experience it is.

Health

These people require a powerful spiritual interest in life to maintain their emotional equilibrium. Meditation, prayer, and even fasting can help them to center themselves. Light to moderate exercise plays a big role in keeping June 6 people in fit condition.

Career and Finances

With so many artistic talents at their disposal, these people can easily make a place in some creative field. True to their creative heritage, they are not particularly adept at handling finances. They often turn that duty over to a spouse or business partner. (Haha...now we know why I am so bad in finance?)

Dreams and Goals

June 6 natives are dreamers. They often set goals for themselves that seem impossible, and yet on some level they seem able to hit their mark. They aspire toward a high level of spiritual perfection.

Just now had a great one to one date with Qus, and well she was emphasizing on the importance of focusing when I study. Because the problem when I study by myself, alone, in a room. I tend to get these weird ideas and thoughts about other things- that they mess up my concentration to memorize Arabic words. And I end up jumbling them in the sentences when i answer my exams.

So she says I have to come up with a strategy to study for short period of times in a day, and between that, I'll have to get a 'break' and do my day dreaming things. Like having an imaginary break and day dream as much as I want.

She said it was a great thing I was still myself, even after everything has changed in our lives. Even after holding so much responsibility, I still love the same things.

Well how couldn't I Qus? I have the same heart, the same soul. Years or people couldn't change that. It would take a lifetime to change me. I don't know if I can agree with you about it being a positive thing. it sounds like I need help?

I know who I am, I know where I'm going, I just need help on getting there.

p/s don't take astrology readings seriously, but it's fun anyway.

Breaking

2011-07-28T14:02:00.000-07:00

breaking a bad habit would need motivation

breaking an addiction would need patience

and breaking an obsession would need pain.

My dreams are my horrored obsession, and I'll have to break them into pieces before I can stand up again. Change the way you are. Change who I am. Meaningless imprints on this world.

I hope in these 30 days of holiness.
I break my soul.

note: I did not draw any of these paintings. They just were the patterns of paintings I liked. Complicated. Simplified yet ignored. And lastly- imperfect.

I cannot break my imperfection.

Ter'stalk' your twitter

2011-07-23T14:23:00.000-07:00

Thanks Kamalia he needs a little help

Everyone thinks being a lovable and caring, supportive sister you'd at least get some sort of hearty response. You'd have like a group of little men loyal and unnervingly caring and joyful to you. I am the more sacred species in the family. He could at least make an effort. Like a call, at least a tweet about your awesome sistah...or something.

Instead when people say, "she's a great sis", my brother says..."and you are referring too..?"

TOTALLY EVADING THE QUESTION!!

(malu la tuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu)

You see, you learn to not expect anything when you have brothers like these. I think that's why I tak kisah when men are inexpressive with me. I have practice. And I have five of them. *sighs*

p/s thanks for picking up my call, even if it was 4.50 am in the morning Malaysia time. Siapa suruh boikot FB.

'Dah tak rasa apa-apa pun'

snorts. *cheesy grin*

still love ya.

Pecahkan Pinggan Istanbul tu

2011-07-21T10:24:00.000-07:00

"We only have one more round today, kalau kita menang yang ni, we could break into the Octos." Fattah explained to me.

"Do your best." I supported. Calling at 2 in the morning, Jordan time. Nearly 7 am, Malaysia time. "How are you feeling now?"

"Calm." Why did his words always tend to vibrate deeply, telling me otherwise. A deeper meaning we both knew. He wanted to win. He wanted to beat me. All my brothers wanted to beat me. It was weird how I always thought I was a loser. That's how I never cared.

"Good." I said lightly.

"Naf?"

"Yeah?"

"You think we can win?"

He had been debating since forever now. Winning some competitions, losing some more. His first IIUM debate competition, he won 0 rounds.The last in all the schools rankings. While I had the better help of seniors to guide me, I went first. Only to have him watch. Would you still want to join debate after losing so badly?

Still, I couldn't let his hopes up. I didn't want him to succumb to failure. "I know you can try your best to do so."

'That's not answering the question.'

'I am sorry.' Maaflah.

Dilemma menjadi seorang kakak. When we want to give the world to our younger siblings. We tend to think of doing anything, give up anyone for their happiness.

Maaf.
Kali ni, adik tak boleh pecahkan pinggan Istanbul tu.

I can't explain it to people. All I know is that I feel strongly when it comes to my younger siblings. There are things I saw and went through. Both sad and scary. Events that happened in life and made me weak in my knees, and finally welcome what we all call reality.

We all have our past, our stories. And mines isn't any different of a test than yours.
It could've been anything, could be as anyone. But God knows, what sort of test would be most suitable for a being like me.

I have to watch my siblings fail and be disappointed. One by one.
Diuji dengan kekecewaan mereka.
.........................................................

Awak tahu tak perasaannya, apabila adik berumur dua tahun anda tengok anda keluar dari kereta. Baru balik dari airport. Bawak beg besar.
Muka dia terpenyet dekat cermin tingkap pintu depan. Air liur meleleh dah masuk celah-celah window sill...mata bulat macam ping pong, mulut senyum sampai ke belakang telinga.

Kita masuk. Dia lari dekat kita. Excited. Tapi dia tunggu, tengok beg besar kita.

"Ajim nya ke?"

Waktu tu, terkejut. Sebab balik pun tergesa-gesa. Rushing semacam. Tak sempat nak singgah kedai ke apa. Tak sempat nak tengok apa yanga da dalam beg. Main amik je, baju pun ntah bawak balik ke tak. Sebab dia dah tengok bag tu. Tak sampai hati nak kata tak ada, tak ingat.

"Jom kita tengok." saya ajak, cuba untuk berceria. Dalam hati dah risau dah. Otak tengah fikir, ada apa nak bagi ni ye....

Bukak zip, muka adik dah macam orang win the lottery. Bukak bag, selongkar punya selongkar. Alamak.

Tak ada apa nak bagi dekat adik. Makin diselongkar. Adik tunggu. Dan dia makin tunggu. Muka dia makin lama makin berkerut. Senyuman itu...makin pudar, menanti.

Hati waktu tu, Tuhan sahaja tahu. How scary, how sad, how angry I was at myself. Tak sanggup nak bagi dia sedih. Takkanlah nak kata, tak jumpa? Nampak sangatlah kantoi. Ternampak sesuatu yang shiny bawah baju-baju semua. Keluarkan lah pinggan antique yang dibalut dalam kertas, dari Istanbul. harga mau 60-70 ringgit.

"Ha...ni Ajim punya...untuk baling dekat luar." Kata saya dengan penuh yakin dan gembira. Konon-kononya..dah 'jumpa' hadiah dia.

Muka dia waktu tu, kembali macam muka yang terpenyet mula-mula tu. Gembira tak terkata. Air liur kembali meleleh.

'Yea...yeahh! dapat Hadiah! Yea...yeahh! Dapat toys!' Mula lah dia tunjuk semua orang 'toys' dia. Pinggan antique dari istanbul, yang akan dibaling2 merata-rata, hanya untuk menggembirakan hati si kecil.

Banyak sangat benda yang memang kalau boleh, saya dah bagi semua pinggan-pinggan antique saya. Hanya untuk menggemberikan hati kamu. Supaya kamu tak kecewa.

Akak sanggup bagi awak pecahkan pinggan mahal tu.
..........................................................................................................................

'So, how did it go?' I asked excitedly over the phone. My brother was at the other end, joining IIUM intra-school debate competition. He got into the semi-finals. I called every few hours to ask their updates, ranking top 6th from nearly a hundred schools for the non-elimination rounds.

My brother took revenge for me as he beat STAR (Sekolah Tunku Abdul Razak) in the double Octos. With a past history of me losing shamefully to them, (jury, 9 to nil), from becoming champion. He even said 'I am winning this for my brother and sister' in his reply speech. Which was just freaking cool!

Now, in the top 4, the semi's, one more till the finals, against SDAR. Motions were hard, but my brother still tried. I wished we were closer in age, if went to the same school, and we'd be in the same team.

'So...?' I pressed.

'We lost.'
One step away. It was his last year. Form 5. His last year to make it to the finals in a competition the family knew so well. He didn't have another chance. The silence, thick, with his disappointment.

That feeling that I felt, so sad, so scared. Like how I felt when Aziem was waiting for his present, and I forgot to buy him one. Like how I felt every time I had to watch all of you, one by one, lose some times, fail many others. You were the one disappointed. I was the one who couldn't bear to watch.

At the moment, I would've given away all my scholarship money in minutes for him.

I would've taken all the heartbreaks, the putus cinta, the kekecewaan hati, just so he would'nt have to feel it too.

In the moment, I would've given all my trophies, my medals, my arts, my dreams, to make his dreams come true.

I would've given up a billion antique plates from Istanbul, to be thrown away, if I could change anything.
But I can't keep saving you.

I'm sorry you have to feel pain and lose and disappointment in life. I am sorry at such a young age, you have to understand that failure is a part of living. I am sorry I can't give you everything you ever want. Even after you worked so hard for it. Even after you hoped and dreamed about it.

I have to let you bleed sometimes. I have to let you fail, more than you deserve. I have to let you live. To learn. To try and be a better man.

Even when you're cool, you'll never admit to failure, you'll stand up again.
And I am crying, but I am letting you grow.

“The only real failure in life is the failure to try.”- Congrats for trying!

p/s thank you Iman and Kamlia for helping my brother get to the Semi's.... heard you guys just debated your wits out. You guys are awesome!
*Sorry la, but in all these pics, you look so stressed out. May Allah reward you for all your hard effort. Study hard after this ok, SPM around the corner :)

Tiba-tiba Mati

2011-07-05T13:32:00.000-07:00

Ajal, sesuatu yang ditentukan Tuhan. Tiada kata putus dari sesiapa. Tiada campur tangan. Kuasa. Melainkan Dia.

Tak aci? Tak adil? tak setuju? Ingat ada orang kisah? Dengan tak puas hati tu, awak ingat awak boleh ubah apa-apa ke?

Dah nama ketentuan- dah masa-sampai waktunya. Full-stop. Blank. Finnito. Akan terhenti.

Tiba-tiba Mati.

***

Dulu-dulu waktu sekolah menengah, orang kata "mati akal"...I was like, siapa akal? How did he die? Kawan kita ke??

Mana lah nak tahu itu hanya ekspresi, peribahasa, melaysia tercinta. Habis kene gelak. Aiya...

***

Mati akal nak fikirkan idea-idea terbaru untuk lukis. Bila emosi itu ada, masa hilang. Waktu study idea datang macam tsunami, valva volcano yang melimpah ruah, membakar kesabaran dan kepedihan jiwa yang memendam rasa...hanya untuk skor exam. Sanggup tak lukis. Pengorbanan tau. Pengorbanan!!

Bila dah habis exam ni. Ada pulak boleh lupa apa kebendanya nak lukis?? Tension!

Siapa punya ketentuan "mati akal" ni?

Kadang-kadang masalah datang satu demi satu, satu-satu nak kena selesai. Tolonglah jangan mati akal memikirkan jalan penyelesaian yang terbaik. Mana lagi nak fikir kalau akal dah mati? Camne nak tolong orang, tolong diri sendiri kalau otak dah tak bergerak.

Kadang-kadang waktu baca buku, rasa confuse sangat...apalah yang tengah belajar ni ye.
Kadang-kadang waktu tengah fikir macam mana nak selesaikan masalah masyarakat, boleh jadi buntu ok. It's not like ABC, ok jom ramai-ramai buat circle, senyum-senyum dan together-together ya!

Mati hati, dah tak boleh selamatkan dah. Lagi bahaya, dah takde apa yang boleh masuk, biarlah kata-kata lembut ke apa. Orang kata 'it will only take a miracle to save'.

I need a miracle.

Sekarang saya dah nazak dah.

Epic

2011-07-02T16:12:00.000-07:00

I've lost all sense of security for life now. And I have placed myself upon the bullet. Who would've thought that I was this suicidal? That I was capable of becoming my own public enemy?

The signs must be calling my name.

No more corners to run, no more questions to ask, no more people to hide and blame for.

Pain is meaningless, when it is so insignificant. Before I would still dwell on soulless pleasures. And they still tie me.

But I know how to cut the binds now, the knife, it's in my hand. Though I would bleed in trying to resurface freedom. Still it is insignificant.

Significance. There has to be meaning. I can't stand doing something not knowing, not believing, not understanding. But I do.

Suddenly found out, the reason I've always been purposely failing- is because I want to punish myself. The reason why I don't want to excel, especially in my studies. What's been holding myself from contributing, from going further. I've been so mad at myself for not pursuing my own dreams, not answering my own questions. Not doing what I know is right.

Tears. They make me realize how I have started to forgive an important person in my life. Me.

And this realization has been epic.

Melukis Dengan Bersalah

2011-05-13T11:37:00.000-07:00

Hari ni, pagi dikejutkan dengan perasaan hiba. Waktu subuh lagi dah rasa dah, hati berat nak go-on dengan kehidupan seharian. Dengan hidup hari ini. Mata tertutup bukan kerana ingin, tetapi kerana tak pasti.

Pernah tak anda bangun...dan terfikir.. Oh God, hari ni saya akan buat silap. Pasti.

Shadow of My Flower

Ada masanya, hati perlu tarik diri dari dunia, untuk memberi ruang untuknya bernafas.

Ada masanya, hati perlu lari dari berasa sedih. Walaupun pengakhirannya akan lagi bertambah sedih. Untuk seketika. Seketika di dalam bilik. Terkunci.

"Jangan bazirkan masa. Buat mana yang lebih penting."

Sanggup kamu kata saya membazir masa? Dengan hati dan jiwa saya?

"Tu la belajar pun tak habis bab lagi...nanti result teruk jangan nangis-nangis dah."

Pernah tak awak tanya diri sendiri- mana lebih penting? Antara kamu dan dunia? Dah lama saya utamakan permintaan orang lain. Permintaan dunia. Sorry, maaf, hari ini, saya membebaskan diri saya. Bebas dari rasa terperangkap..dari rasa sedih ini...

If people once told me that strength is how far we keep our hardships inside. I agree. I keep them inside. And I let them out here- for a better view. They keep me sane, like praying. It's almost as if I am talking to the Lord.

This moment of peace- with no one to hear me but myself and The Maker.

"La Tahzan ya Sobaya.."

Ini bukan muka sedih, ini hati tengah membenci.

Pernah tak tengok bangunan...terfikir apa pemandangan dari atas? Terfikir apa perasaannya melepaskan diri...ke angin...ke alam lain. Saya pernah. Dan saya benci.

Saya benci dengan rasa ini. Putus asa. Seperti bayang-bayang bunga yang tinggal hanya sekelopak sahaja.

"Yang tepi-tepi lukisan ini semuanya cantik..tapi yang tengah-tengah ni tak faham..." *ketawa* Ya. Dunia sekeliling saya memang cantik. Tetapi saya?

"Ada sesuatu yang Tuhan rancangkan untuk kamu." Ya, saya tahu..dan dia ilhamkan melalui jari, canvas, dan lukisan warna warni.

"Kalau suami awak tak kasi awak melukis dah macam mana?"- nada sinis kamu menyakitkan saya.

Saya faham, pertanyaan awak sebenarnya niat untuk memberi nasihat kepada saya. Niat awak ikhlas. Kata-kata kamu tetap pedas. Awak ingin menyimpulkan kehidupan saya, dengan satu soalan sahaja.

Tersenyum. "Saya ikut je lah..."

Tersambung. "Yelah, sebagai isteri takkan nak derhaka... biarkan jelah dia membunuh saya dengan perlahan-lahan, kan?."

............

Orang yang berzina, mereka buat kerana ikut hati, kerana suka. Akhirnya direjam sehingga mati.

Saya melukis kerana suka, kerana ikut hati.

Kalau melukis ini dosa. Apa hukuman terbaik untuk saya? Di kerat jari-jari hingga mati?

Untuk hari ini saya buat. Esok saya akan menyesal dengan penyesalan yang tak sudah-sudah.

Dan Tuhan Maha Pengampun lagi Maha Mengasihi, please, I am begging you, more than I have ever begged before, terimalah taubat saya.

Hari ni dan selama-lamanya.

Saya melukis dengan rasa bersalah.

Maaflah, gambar agak kabur.

Macam mata saya. Hari ini sahaja.

Happy Day Aziem

2011-05-06T13:41:00.000-07:00

Adik, Aziem, Happy Day to you.

Family ritual, we call birthdays- Happy Days. My ritual, I like to say thank you to my mum, I don't like to say 'thank you' only on Mother's day, because no one was born on Mother's day. But on our birthdays, I like to think of it as a nice 'Mother's Day' greeting to our Umi. Seven of us, seven Mother Days celebrated along with birthdays, seven births...woah...! Do you know how painful that is??

I hear stories about it....how it hurts with the first push...the contraction...and the bleeding 40 days afterwards. The before and after pain... you might even lose a tooth, etc etc...

Scared? Nope. Horrified? Definitely. To the point where when my mother gave birth to my youngest brother. I almost vowed to NEVER want to go to the same experience!

But Aziem, my youngest brother, he made me smile on the first day. Made me forget my fears of birth. A bundle, like a toy doll sleeping...sleeping...and sleeping. I loved washing your face every morning, and helping you wear new clothes. Umi was so tired becuase you were her 'last'. I was so happy to help out.

After my Umi started working and sent you to the nursery- I remember taking turns with her looking over you, and visiting you. Changing your nappies. Kissing you to sleep.

"Sweet Dreams...Goodnight...I love you..." You'd smile to reply. Seronok eh you, akak enjut-enjut dalam your rocking crib. And then tengok je kita, make sure kita tunggu tepi dia..sampai dia tertidur. Macam raja!

And I remember how scared I was at having to take care of you when you were sick, only because you were shivering so bad...and your lips had gone blue...and I kept calling our Family Doctor- Dr. Nazrin. And talking like a crazy woman. Panicking every second.

"Bathe him. If he's shivering too badly that mean's the body is reacting to release the heat. Kene rendam ni." Was his orders. I was like- what?? He's shivering! I can't bathe him!

But out of trust, i did what the doctor told me, and Thank the Lord, even when you cried and held on to me for dear life... I bathed you... nearly crying watching you shiver so much. Minutes later, you were better, sleeping soundly in my arms.

I hugged you and held you some more. And then I came here...to Jordan.

Nearly a year away, as I returned..I remembered how bothered you were with me. All my other brothers and sister would talk to me excitedly. But you were so quiet.

"Tak kenal Nafeesa ke?" I asked, smiling, but inside my heart was slicing into pieces

You wouldn't play with me, you wouldn't let me hold you. You only watched me.
I became a volunteer at your school, a chance for me to play with you. And by time, you held my hand again, you let me throw the ball at you. Teman you main sungai. And help cut your burgers for you.

Little by little, I thank the Lord again, you let me in your circle.

Now I am gone again. And I am missing your birthday. You're TWO. And you've grown so much. So much without me.

Ingat lagi...masa tu Aziem lari...lantai basah dan Aziem terjatuh, terhentak kepala....and like all my other brothers...Akak nampak je. Tapi akak toleh. Akak buat-buat tak tahu.

Akak nak bagi your pride, your ego terjaga. You know, like a man. Akak tengok kejap-kejap, just to make sure you weren't bleeding. Mula-mula macam nak nangis, tapi tengok tak ada orang perasan...Aziem, angkat kepala..Aziem jalan dengan bangga.

See? Akak dah agak dah, Aziem ni kuat je orangnya. Macam semua adik-adik akak.

5/5 was your birthday. I wanted to call. I really did. But I was so scared you'd be sad.

Your birthday...is your Happy Day... I didn't want you to be sad I wasn't there.

Ok, that's a lie. I didn't want to be sad, because I wasn't there. With you. I didn't see you grow. I didn't help you walk out your first few steps...I didn't teach you how to swim. I didn't get to tell you stories...or teach you how to lipat kain and simpan dalam drawer. I didn't teach you how to makan baca doa...and tangan mana guna sudu, pegang garfu.

Agak payah kan untuk tengok orang yang kita sayang kuat, membesar, tanpa kita. Macam kita ni tak ada guna langsung dalam hidup dia. Maca tak terlibat dalam suka duka, siku liku hidup dia.

I missed nearly two years of your life, and I know I'm going to miss so much more. Akak tahu Aziem tak sedih...tapi akak sedih...Akak tahu Aziem tak perlukan akak...tapi akak, sebagai kakak...well, crazily, akak perlukan kamu.

Just now I called my brother, and lo and behold, my fears were replaced with new excitement as Aziem told me 'everything' about his Happy Day.

"Best...best...ok...ok...Waaaaaahhhh." (Buat sound effect je la, sebab tak faham sangat apa dia cerita)
Sampai dah terjerit-jerit dah on the phone. Excited sangat...

Then he asked, "Sha datang? Jom!"

What could I say? Promises of toys and games would never replaced the time I would never have.

"Ok..nanti...nanti I'll come."

"Ok, Swit dreams.." You started.

"Sweet dreams.."

"Gonayyyte..."

"Goodnight"

"Wov uu..." you would try to say first

"I love you too Aziem."

Years from now, I know your going to be such a strong man. And your going to tell me off and give me a piece of your mind- like all my other brothers. Your going to show me your fist, and your going to shout at me because you know I am right.

Years from now, your going to start asking me about girls... and ask me if your hair looks good enough

Years from now your going to come knocking in my room, and ask me a favor to cover for you...so Umi would never know you sneak out to play War Games at the CC.

Years from now, I hope you don't think me as a stranger...only because I wasn't in your life so much. I hope you don't think my advices are tiresome or out dated. I hope you still want to come to me if you have any problems.

Years from now, I hope you still call me just to wish Good night on your Happy Day...

p/s Thank you Umi for giving birth to such a wonderful son, your sacrifice not wasted, God will!

Look at my Shoes

2011-05-01T13:26:00.000-07:00

Women love shoes. Love shopping for them. Love looking at them. Loving wearing different types of shoes.

It's been a complete mystery as to why women love (or should I say crave?) to buy SO MANY shoes. Everyone wants to know why. And I found out some very funny and interesting answers ;)

Most of the time, women, not all of course, shop with their emotions. They buy shoes when they are feeling down or happy. And they shop for shoes because you can never go wrong with shoes – it will always fit! Our feet does’t change size.

That’s not the same with clothes – if you gain some weight you won’t be able to wear it anymore so that’s not very practical. LOL !-Momma Wanabe

Buying shoes, for women, is a biological imperative. It's encoded in our genetic structure and there is just no escaping it. There is no cure, except to buy shoes when the urge strikes (LOL) -Helium Shoes

They are the element that completes an outfit and can change the style-Yahoo Answers

I love this answer though.

You can wear it for a great occasion, and still use it to hit somebody in the wrong occasions!

I love shoes, but particularly, more in fact, I only love my shoes. For some well, it's money saving. It's practical. But for most of my friends...it means I am well, to be blunt-boring and probably not the best choice to go around and accompany you window shopping.

Though I try, my very best, to show interest whenever my friends ask me out and whenever my mom asks my advice. I'd rather watch them happy and smiling like a crazy man then sad. So it goes to say, yes, I would spend 6 hours of pointless round around a Mall- just to find the perfect shoe.

For me, the perfect shoe only feels perfect, after months.

Many girls would have a few pairs of shoes to change for every occasion. But to me, it felt weird to be changing shoes so much. If I had one pair of black shoes for school, I'd still wear the same pair for dinner, sports, and having fun with my brothers outside. I had to buy a-suitable-for-all type of shoe.

Before I came to Jordan, I had already bought one pair of shoe. It was brown, Scholl, yes, a little expensive. But I was counting on wearing it for a long long time. And I did, oh so stubbornly. It wasn't the best shoe for Jordan's climate. But it was a really good shoe.

You see, when you wear a shoe, it gets 'worn' out, and fits nicely around your feet. Your feet just naturally knows where are the bumps and bruises of the shoe. From a huge pile of shoes, you can already take out your shoe- because you've worn it so long. it's the shoe you search for in the morning. And definitely the shoe you still search for in the night.

After two years in Jordan's unforgivable weather. My pair of brown shoes were starting to tire. It had holes in the front, the color was very wane and stitches had gone lose. It was a pair of shoes fit for the homeless.

"Nafeesa, please buy new shoes. You have so many your mother sent you."

"Nafeesa, people will stare at your shoes...your dress is so pretty, but your shoes don't match!"

I know that, I know that. I know that I have to change my shoes. I've tried...for a few weeks- wearing Jordan made shoes, they didn't last. I felt weird, I returned back to wearing my old holey shoes.

I've tried wearing a new pair that I had bought from Malaysia- they were classy, purple- my favorite feminine color. And they were high heels and nice. Every time I wore them, I felt like a lady.

Sometimes I did feel ashamed of owning such a worn out and torn shoe, but on most days, I felt proud. Proud to wear the very shoe that brought me all the way- up to here.

Yesterday, my name was announced to 'win' one of the twelve seats in PERMAI's (a student organisation here) council. I felt numb without emotion as I walked on stage- with my 'new' shoes.

I smiled, I laughed, I heard a speech worth clapping for. I felt my heart pumping wildly in my chest. I saw the faces of my new team. I saw the hopeful faces of the many voters. And I heard their dreams.

But something didn't feel right. Something didn't fit in this equation.

I kept my cool, I heard my cue to walk down the stage...and out of the hall. And I kept walking. Up the hall, and out. Walking still.

I think I passed someone, he looked at me, a short glance. Did he see what was missing from me? What was wrong?

And my shoes, they made loud echoing sounds...tap tap tap...I think the whole world heard me. The whole world knew something wasn't right. Something was missing. Walking again, passed the doors, the lifeless windows...the silent hallway.

tap..tap...tap...

I stopped walking, and I entered an empty class room. It was near evening and I there was some light from the windows. I didn't turn on the lights. Slowly, I slid my hand across every chair in the first row...before I stopped myself in the middle. And I took my seat.

So quiet. From the rest of the world. So empty.

A few seconds ago, I was sitting, in front of a whole bunch of people. Now, I was only sitting in front of a blank white board.

I looked at my hands to feel the sensation, I felt my my heart slowly decelerating. And I think my head was finding words to tell me..something.

Minutes...seconds...what was it that I needed? Because something wasn't right.

I looked down, and I saw my purple high heel shoes. They made me feel like I was a princess, a lady.

But they didn't get me here, up to this point, they didn't made me feel like me.

They say the shoe represents the owner. And I couldn't have agreed more. Through tear or wear...I always wanted to keep going. To keep moving forward.

And I felt proud and nice to wear my lady shoes...but I also felt more determined and humbled...at the hard working effort my brown shoes had gone through for me.

This whole experience, has been a tug of war of identity for myself. How I thought myself and brought myself with confidence. But at the same time...looking at myself, and understanding my roots... knowing what got me here. There were those that honored me with so much wisdom and kind words of understanding. Complimented and appreciated my efforts. Supported and came through to me with the end.

I made mistakes and were given advices immediately. I was vigilant and forgetful and were given the blind pass as a simple nobody. I was given an excuse for not holding anything big or too responsible.

But as I came on the stage, to take on the challenge and responsibility. It changed. The tables now turned. My shoes- different.

I know what's not right. I know what's missing. It wasn't my shoe. It was all that feeling of security and comfort, ripped apart from me. Now, I won't be the one able to receive. Most probably, it is my turn to give. It is my turn to wear a different shoe.

After this I maybe wearing better and more controlled and proper shoes.

But I'll always miss my old brown ones. I'll always want to wear them again.

The Results of the Election.

594 is the many people who I hope not to disappoint.

God is only one, and still I fear Him more.

Ketua Daun Keladi

2011-04-24T14:38:00.000-07:00

First of all my words are always for the Owner of the Skies

Terima Kasih, itu sahajalah yang mampu ku ucapkan, time tengah kelam kabut dan penuh dengan demand kerja yang sedia ada, time kene penuhi permintaan dan hak orang lain juga, time serabut, happy dan bergembira.

Terima Kasih daun keladi.

Dulu, masa sekolah menengah lagi...gelaran 'pemimpin' itu saya tolak ketepi. Kenapa? kerana saya sendiri rasa saya tak sesuai menjadi pemimpin, semua orang bagitahu saya- pemimpin adalah segala-galanya yang bukan saya. Jadi saya tak join kumpulan pengawas, saya tahu saya bukan pemimpin- saya tak suka peraturan sekolah, saya tak pandai buat muka bengis, yang lagi penting, saya tak suka hukum2 orang.

Tapi saya suka buat benda lain, jadi saya jadi PRS- atau Pengawas Rakan Sebaya. Disitulah, sedar tak sedar, saya belajar erti komitmen, erti kerjasama, saya belajar pahit manis berkhidmat.

"Jadi ketua? Xnaklah." jawab saya ketika ada yang tanya samada saya nak tak jadi timbalan pengerusi PRS. Saya masih fobia, kenapa? kerana semua orang cakap saya bukan pemimpin, semua orang cakap pemimpin mesti macam ni, mesti macam tu, semua orang kata mereka inginkan seorang pemimpin yang begini begitu.

mana ada orang nak saya. saya bukan pemimpin. saya tak begini, saya tak begitu.

fast forward datang kesini, teringat lagi suara Ketua Helwi saya tanya:
"awak nak tak? jadi timbalan JKK ni?" ketua, pemimpin, dia nak naikkan saya menjadi pemimpin

tapi orang kata...orang selalu cakap...saya bukan pemimpin...lihatlah saya, saya bukan macam mereka

"tapi akak yakin dengan awak." itu sahaja yang perlu dia kata, itu sahaja yang perlu dia sebut. terus saya mengambil risiko saya mencuba.

dan terima kasih kak, kamu semua, disini saya akhirnya.

Kepada sesiapa yang rasa seperti ingin lebih mengetahui bagaimana saya boleh inspired sampai ketahap ini, saya listkan beberapa nama. saya amat berharap anda semua (especially syabab dan yang tak berapa kenal saya), ambil lah peluang dan carilah ruang untuk bertanya dengan mereka, bagaimana gerak kerja dan skill kepimpinan saya, supaya anda dapat membuat keputusan terbaik.

1. Kak Arikah Saadon (pelajar Khirijaat tahun lepas, yarmouk)
- kakak yang banyak mendorong saya untuk menerima dan bersabar, dan kerana dialah, saya belajar 'dalam kelembutan, pun ada kekuatan'

2. Kak Farhanah Binti Tajurudin (Ketua Helwi 10/11)
-boleh saya katakan hampir semua AMM terkesan dengan kepimpinan beliau, dengan dialah saya belajar untuk mengurus, menjadi sangat detail, cuba menepati janji kata-kata, dan meneruskan kehidupan dengan lebih optimis- dia buat saya percaya, tiada cabaran yang tidak boleh diharungi

3. Senior Syamil Shuhardi (Ketua Multimedia PERMAI)
-saya rasa saya tak akan belajar jadi se'cool' saya sekarang kalau bukan kerana pengaruhnya. kalau anda rasakan idea-idea saya 'hebat', adalah kerana beliau lah yang bantu merealisasikannya.

"tulis dalam kertas semua idea tu"- itulah nasihat paling saya ingat, sampai sekarang, mesti saya buat

4. Naqeb Bin Sulaiman (Timbalan Presiden 1 MPPMJ) & Kak Atiqah Nazeri
-kalau bukan kerana mereka 'mendengar' saya berjela2 bercakap, tak mungkin saya seyakin ini untuk bersua muka dan menyuarakan pendapat saya kepada orang ramai. yelah, Presiden PERMAI...senior JUST, siapa tak nervous? I felt like I didnt know much, tapi sebab mereka banyak mengajak saya dalam perbincangan, saya rasa tak ada perbezaan when it comes to contributing ideas.

5. AJK JPR 2010
(Muhd Amirul Kamal, Anis Athirah, Kak Rubi dan lain2)
-xtau la kenapa, tetapi pengalaman bekerja dengan mereka mengajar saya apa itu sebenarnya team work, pedihnya kerja sorang2, dan bagaimana membuat keputusan sehati sepakat, dengan mereka jugalah saya faham- bukan seorang sahaja tangunggjawab masyarakat, semua bertangunggjawab

6. AMM & AMT 10/11
-team work, penerimaan, kerja yang berterusan, support each other, give and take...I cannot know what is NOT the best team, if it's not this team. This sense of sacrifice and understanding. I learned a lot of responsibilities and burdens of others, hearing them and seeing them do their work. Tak mudah. Now, I know.

7. AJK Multimedia 10/11
-korang la sebenarnya bahan experiment saya selama ini, korang la yang menguji kesabaran, kematangan, dan hasil saya sebagai timbalan. ada ups, ada downs, and we learned together, and I'm so grateful, korang la yang sanggup melalui segala-galanya dengan saya. dengan korang I learn to test my theories- jangan cuma cakap banyak, tetapi mesti also take action

8. semua yang pernah merasa ragam saya 'bertugas'
-Festbuk, Malaysian Day 2010, Haflah Khirijaat 2010, AKA, AJK CAKNA '11, Kelab Orator, Bahagian persegaran API dan KARISMA

hari ini, saya masih tak merasakan saya seperti 'pemimpin-pemimpin' yang lain, kalau dilihatkan senarai calon-calon itu....apa lagi yang perlu saya buktikan? apa yang saya boleh bawakan? saya melihat mereka dan saya nampak kayu ukur yang sangat jauh berbeza, penilaian yang tidak sama. saya bukan mereka.

dan mereka bukan saya.
kamulah yang memberi saya dorongan untuk yakin berdiri, untuk meneruskan perjuangan, sebagai diri saya, dengan kayu ukur saya yang tersendiri- menang kalah- it's not the point.

the point is, I was a better person, a better 'leader', because Allah gave me, 'leaders' like you.

Terima Kasih, terima kasih, terima kasih.
Terima Kasih, daun keladi.
Moga Hidup Anda, Allah Berkati.

p/s saya tak minta 'nama2' yang tersenarai memberi sokongan kepada saya secara terbuka- terpulang... cuma harap ahli PERMAI dapat mengambil peluang berjumpa dengan mereka, untuk kenal saya. yelah, other's know you better then yourself sometimes, insyaAllah, we should all choose for the best.

wslm

Taking this Door

2011-04-22T06:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was kept in deep thought the whole day.

I believed fate came in two ways- the doors tat God give you, and the doors you ignore, open or close forever. There are some things we can't change, and there are some we can.

I was enlisted in an election here, there's a 50-50 chance I won't be chosen. But still, my name was there. One door given by God. Now what is my reaction to this, do I close the door? Ignore it?

Or do I walk in?

Decisions as simple as that, can basically change my whole future. When you say what you do doesn't affect people- LIES- one name, and I was there.

Like the other twenty people who were enlisted. We where all there. All because of other people, all because someone did something, all because of you. You took that pen and wrote down our names. You made the difference for a whole society, a whole different possibility for the world...for a person.

our lives were changed.

First thing I did? Call Qus, call Nani, call Zaty, then I had a dentist appointment. After that I called my mom (she finished school hours late), then I had a one to one talk with my house mates, gave a confession to my classmates, asked a few seniors if I should stay.

If I should close this door. One decision. I could give one reason, and I know I can close the door. Forever.

Here are some of the things people told me, in reaction to my nomination:

"You have to make a schedule now. Like having four wives- you have the people you love, drawing, your studies...PERMAI bini keempat. 4 bini pun kena adil dengan semua k."

"oh, don't worry, we'll still have milkshake dates, really."

"I don't want to stop you because of what I feel. I want you with me, always, but I want you to do good too."

"Nanti masa untuk movies and sleepover makin sikit la lepas ni, tapi akan ada, kitorg tunggu. promise!"

"Nafeesa naik, kitorg pun naik sekali, join you dalam huru-hara dunia. Haha."

"Lepas ni kene kurangkan makan gula- sebab PERMAI tak boleh ada pemimpin yang tak sihat."

"We're always right here, beside you."

"tahu je you boleh, tapi sebagai orang yang paling dekat....mestilah risau."

"Walaupun awak kata awak takkan abaikan kitorg, kitorg akan terabai jugak. so, it's ok. let's be real. takde pape hard feeling pun."

"take this opportunity to improve yourself."

"you can grow to be perfect for the job."

"dik...banyak-banyak lah baca tentang tokoh-tokoh pemimpin Islam, learn from them."

"you don't have to be like everyone else, just be you. people know you."

"Jangan tetibe nak jadi hipokrit and terpaksa sikah tak tentu pasal, just sebab nak puaskan hati orang, buat baik untuk puaskan diri sendiri, dan Tuhan! Ingat tu!"

"don't feel insecure, you have your own abilities, and people can see that."

"Boring la kalau you tak ada." <------------------ (tak faham sebenarnya statement ni) =.="""

"you mesti bolehlah. kalau you tak boleh, mintak tolong la...apa susah?"

‎"yeah, you ni teruk and suck at so many things. but best of all? you ni improving. And you have to know you can improve some more. Cayalah."

Yeah ada reaction yang positive, ada yang macam well, a little sad...but they were all honest, itulah yang terbaik. Honesty from you, my dear ones, to give me a hint on what I should do. Though I know, it's up to me.

I was looking at some quotes on the internet, and I can't help reading a comment by someone, "You know, politics, economics, religion, society, environment...it's all on us. No one can NOT be responsible for everything. When we realize that, we stop blaming others, we stop waiting for people to change things for us and we start doing something."

That's when I understood that, in time, you figure out there are things that you have to take charge in, that you have to help change. Not just sitting and whining (which I so shamefully always did).

"Semua adalah pemimpin, masa dan keadaan itu sahaja berbeza, tetapi Allah tetap akan uji kita sebagai pemimpin. Mungkin sekarang, adalah masa awak."

Tim, Rai, Kauthar, Nadhirah, Wan, Fadh, Hasna', fifah, Kak Qalbi...I think I already know one thing for sure. You don't have to vote for me, to know I'll always support you guys.

I had always prayed that I was forgiven, I needed a way to repent myself, to feel that I wasn't the same lost soul I was. And I felt, by all their words...all their support...it was God's way of telling me.

If I went through the door...

well we'll see what happens- on the 29th of April.

p/s NOTE: INI BUKAN KEMPEN, LUAHAN APA YANG BERLAKU SAHAJA. Not sure if JPR would kill me if I wrote this in my blog?

Walking to the door means, I made a decision not to pull myself out of the election. Win or lose. Hope it's for the best. God will.

No Sound in Space

2011-04-21T02:16:00.000-07:00

Everyone is making noises, everyone is giving sound.
Sound, sound, More sound!
But I can't hear them,
because I'm trying to hear you.

What is the sound you'll make when you fear, hurting?
What is it you say when your not speaking?

You can only have sound, when you have air,
Like I can only have you, because I breathe.

I wonder what it would feel
If I went to space,
without air, without sound.

I won't be able to hear them calling
or make sound, sound and more sound

You know what I hear every night?
I turn and toss, it's dark so it's suppose to be OK
But it's not, because I don't breathe,
I don't hear you, anymore.

The Space is God's abstract painting

Silence is but the absence of sound.
I was everything till the absence of you

"Even without me, your somebody."
Yes, but I was no one, till I met you.

Sound and more sound, they're calling me,
I turn, to go away and fly to space
it's my calling,
Submerge shall I be in the ocean of drifting stars
Trudging through heart and soul
Like how the sun defies the mind
I'm flying

But I'll always be listening,
in case you call me back,
to stay with you, Here On Earth

................................................................................................

Bayt Aqleema has moved, to a better location. Mabna sebelah je pun.
Akhirnya dapat terima hakikat untuk pindah, haha.

I'm learning to be more mature, and accept separation more beautifully.
Just like I'm learning to accept more responsibilities,
& Qus, I'm not a romantic. I can't be. That's too weird.
I'm just, err.... vocal? Honest?

If you ask me to go to 'space'
Can I ask that you help me keep my friends and brothers,

The Canvas of space is black, & the colors shine, MasyaAllah!

because in space, there is no sound

I just want my friends to stay happy, with me,
My brothers to know they can always call me.
That I'm never too busy for them. For life.

Please... that is all I ask.

Yes, it's sad

2011-04-18T16:04:00.000-07:00

Today I had a class discussing what is a stronger effect to pull people to do good. Is it hope for good. Or fear of the consequences?

When you do things because you hope to gain the benefit, your motivation is towards the gold, the winning, the drive to gain something for yourself. It’s a pull affect.

It happens to me a lot. When I do something that I really really like and want something out of it. I tend to be really aggressive and suddenly awake for a whole week, to work to get what I want. I like knowing I can do something I am good at, something I like. Usually even if it doesn’t really work out in the end, I’m still satisfied at the result.

Even when it comes to doing something good in particular, I like throwing away trash more then I like cooking. So I don’t complain. I like cleaning my room, myself. I like doing the beds so my friends will feel appreciated. I like the hardships of trying to please a special person. Or trying to ‘save’ the environment only because I want the world to be green and cool (not chocolate and hot. Gah..)

See, when we do good things because we like them, no one has to tell us to do it. We do it without hesitation. And best of all, we try to do the best. Because we have a heart for it. And we don’t really think about the rewards (though we really know there will be rewards, God will).

But sometimes even by doing things you like, you can feel a little disheartened. Sometimes by people commenting on your work- trying to make things more difficult. Or when once you try to do something good- to feel good, instead you feel bad. Because you made a clumsy mistake or probably had to sacrifice something that didn’t make you feel that good. Or you didn’t win something in return.

And then in turn, the pulling affect, isn’t that strong anymore.

So what keeps you going doing the good things? Fear? Fear of doing bad things? Fear of going to hell if you don’t.

The Push effect.

I dislike this idea, but I see it’s use. My lecturer told us that Scholars liked this effect more because it’s more effective. And in fear that by doing the things we like, we’re only following blindly our wants, and it doesn’t reach the main objective of doing these good deeds.

Well I want to like doing good deeds, thanking you very much.

But I can’t deny that sometimes, I am very scared of doing bad things instead, because of this fear.

I’m scared of being labeled as something bad- because people tend to judge, even if you wished they won’t. I’m a little bit nervous of doing mistakes for fear the consequences are ever lasting. As I seem to be a very naïve heart. I’m scared of the promises of the hellfire.

Especially as recently, I’ve been reading a lot about Death and the Grave world. It’s all thing torturous and scary, and yes, very gory and true.

Ok, so people might tell you- what if Hell doesn’t exist (though I believe it does). Think of it as this, if it doesn’t exist then fine, I got away with at least being a good human being (as I’m trying very hard). And I bet I made people’s life at least happier.

But what if Hell really does exist? What’s in it for you then, for not believing in Hell the first place, and just doing whatever you want, eh?

I wasn’t a big fan of implementing ‘fear’ as a way to encourage people to do good. I don’t even feel it’s encouraging. I hate it when I read posts about people bad-mouthing and trashing other people just because they think other people are doing sin and doing wrong.

But I guess fear acts as a ‘controlling mechanism’. For people who don’t want to do it, even when they should- like throwing trash in the trash bin. At least they save the environment, even if they are afraid of being punched in the face by a scary soldier------à I wish someone would do that here.

Sadly to say, why we tend to become obedient or nice (hypocritically), is only because we live in fear. God has to ‘make us afraid’ of doing bad things, just to take care of us.

For example He has to say that murdering is s sin, and you’ll get hellfire, when we all know… killing for no reason is without a doubt, just plain wrong, and damaging US.

Everything good to do, is in the end, actually really good for us. Not to steal. Not to commit adultery.

Though I’m sad to hear Britain and American news commenting on Sharia law- as only cutting the hands of people, and throwing stones to death. It’s true, but they don’t know why we do it.

When they say it like that in the news, it makes Islam, or us who practice it, really stupid and kinda terrifying. So much for the push effect.

But what if they found out that women will always be protected in terms of marriage- will always be given care, priority in wealth and children, or by dividing the wealth- they understand the fact that men should have more because they will care for a family, but when women get money they don’t have to share, or how Sharia protects orphan kids with wealth, fathers who will always have their names attached to their children- even if they’re given up to adoption, economists, the buyers the sellers will never be allowed to cheat.

All this for our own good. Like when a child won't eat his medicine, to make him do it, we scare him that we'll pinch him in the nose-painfully. But he doesn't know how good medicine is. It taste bad. But it;s good for us.

See, see, see?

Won’t they see how beautiful and how beneficial doing good- doing right is?

Though the push effect is important, the pull effect is what we should encourage. Pulling people to Jannah, but at the same time using the push effect to help ‘control’ certain aspects.

Ever wondered why they say Islam is perfect?

A quick note:

To you, yes you who are seriously doing something that’s crossing the line. It becomes my business when you hurt her purposely. Yeah, she’s human and makes mistakes- but that doesn’t give you the right to stab her like that.

I’m a loyal heart too, but you embarrass me. Your feelings are exclusively yours, even if you can’t forget the one you love. I get that. But acting it out, just because you tak puas hati dekat kegembiraan orang lain is just sick. SICK. Berdendam itu tak bawa kepuasan.

I hope you just stay quiet and stop trying to ruin and hurt people’s heart. The pull effect of that? You’ll find inner peace, by God’s will. You’ll find someone else to love you- for the best. I pray you find hope to live, the benefit of an Islamic life. And you’ll find better hobbies to do then stalk other people’s happy life.

I pray you a happy happy life. Honestly.

The push effect? Though I can’t judge you, and openly kill you for what you’re doing. As I remember God’s promise there is no good in trying to hurt people. I really hope you either learn your lesson, by God’s will change to be a better man, or burn severely in HELL.

Cubalah elak, cubalah nafikan, tapi kalau anda percaya Allah ada, Neraka itu ada- cubalah berfikir apa yang anda buat. Takut kita rasa nak buat dulu, baru bertaubat. Tapi Allah tarik kita dulu. Dan saya sebagai orang yang naïve hanya mampu menasihati.

I’m doing this as professionally as I could. And you wonder why I’m not your friend.

I would, if only you could be a real friend.

p/s tp my friends- did I scare you? haha. chill. All iz well ya, the note at the end isn't for you.
Its sad? Don't be too sad.

Enjoy this, from me.

What would I do

2011-04-16T22:39:00.000-07:00

What would I do without you...

what would I do...come on...what would I do...

what would I do without you?

I suppose granting the day is Sunday- a school day, I should be preparing myself for the week. I liked that about Sundays, I liked jotting down and making a schedule for the whole week like an over-compulsive obsessive nerd. I liked knowing what was coming ahead, liked being prepared.

Though life, will sometimes throw a curve ball at you. I think I still like jotting down what I need to, what I want to do.

Maybe my way of proving to myself I was organised and having something important to do, was by jotting down things on my To-Do-Lists. The time line of my work, I liked to estimate between hours VS days. Juggling my time between studies and other activities.

Maybe I was also trying to be in control over something. I couldn't be in control of life- as it has repeatedly reminded me. But I can be in control of what I jot down in my schedule.

I can be in control of something.

Like even when your sad, you can't control the feeling. Why it comes or how long it'll stay. But you can control how you let it out. And thank you, thank you Lord, for teaching me the best outlet. My best quality yet. When you teach me that, I can't control everything- but I can control something.

'Shhhh.....don't worry, it's all temporary. Just imagine, if now we separate, who knows? By God's power, we might be able to share a grave together?'

'You want that? You want to die with me?'

'God is All Mighty, if I lived, I would die with you too.'

What am I suppose to do, when the best part of me- was always you.
What am I going to say, when I'm all choked up and your OK.
I'm falling to pieces.

When a heart breaks, it doesn't break even.

My After Life story is still on-hold, I'm getting confused on how I want things to end. As Hilal Asyraf has pointed out, I should just write and not feel so dissatisfied. Gah...

But well, I'm a different stubborn writer aren't I?

Yes, these are emotions I conjure up for a story. I feel the need to force myself to 'feel' to write. Yes, it's weird. Weird if you want to write good enough to reach a date line.

Unconditional

2011-04-16T13:37:00.000-07:00

For some people they know when they love people because like Chris Medina, they can prove their words.

God is all too powerful, He knows, the perfect test to prove my love. The orchestrated deep sense of attachment I have towards certain people. Will always reach its limit. I don’t know why, but I know it’s according to plan.

And I know, that the tests, the things happen are all God’s way of telling me. That the only love that will never leave me, is Him.

Unconditional means not conditional or limited. Unconditional love is a term that means to love someone regardless of the loved one's qualities or actions. No matter what the person did to you, especially if they hurt you, you would love them nevertheless.

Unconditionally.

Can you love like that?

Forgive me. I can’t cry for you again. It’s a miracle I know. I admire myself. Pride in the efforts I’ve taken throughout the day. I went to exams. Got through helping around the house. Through the meeting with a breeze.

I’m getting good at controlling my emotions. Because I know I can't cry anymore, like before. If i lose myself to sadness I can't pick myself up again. My eyes will lie. I know it would only do harm to myself, to my sanity. My faith. In you.

I won’t cry.

But I can’t pack my bags and act like it means nothing either.

Please, I already lost everything, and now I lose you too.

Just let me breathe.

Mona, Prince and Niqabs

2011-04-15T06:43:00.000-07:00

‘Maybe it’s not for me.’ I admit to my mom, when she asked why I didn't wear a niqab.

‘Well, it’s ok. No one is forcing you.’ She said in an honest reply.

I don’t tell anyone, like immediately. Not on the first meeting. Not when I’m introducing myself. Only on some occasions, I’ll admit. My mother, she is a special person. She wears the niqab.

It’s not because I’m ashamed of her. Far from it. I’m proud to have her as my mother. I just don’t want people to have a certain perception about me. I don’t want people to ask. Your mother wears the niqab? Then you…?

Yes, I am different. I don’t wear the niqab.

And that is why she is so special. Not because she just wears the niqab. But how she taught me to value it. How she let me chose it.

I grew up watching her wearing her niqab. I also grew up believing she was a superwoman. My dad, was always working in meetings, outstation sometimes for months. She would be the one driving me and my brothers to school. Running her own school, teaching, handling the bills. Coming home in time for dinner and making sure my brothers and I all did our homework.

If people where to step a wrong foot with her, be prepared to feel her wrath. And I mean seriously, even I was afraid of crossing a line with her. She was a firm boss. An aspiring teacher, who wanted the best for her students. Best for me.

I’ve never remembered seeing my mother backed down from a challenge. See her make her dreams come true. From homeschooling me, to making her own school herself. Going to Montessori conventions and learning what she loves. She was hard as steel, and still as motherly as any mother ever could be. Juggling her interest with her responsibilities.

My brothers and I used to love watching this Movie.

There were hard times. When everything didn’t seem that OK, and we’d see her get into a migraine over financial problems, with the school. There were times my family had to live in a crammed apartment. My dad had his business and I understood the ups and downs of the economy would affect us all.

But she stayed strong, she stayed with us. She was the one who would clap when my sister and I danced and commercials. She was the one who would be so enthusiastic about my brother’s debate, telling me every detail through the phone. She would be the one cheering on the younger ones when they ran and swim in our back yard.

I was a single girl in a family of boys for so long. She was my role model. My best friend. She was everything woman that I saw, before I saw the world.

A few days ago, I watched this clip about Mona Eltahawy, debating with Heba- a niqabi woman, saying that niqabs should be banned everywhere. Her reason? Because niqab is the reason women are disappearing from the world. And women can only choose whether to cover their face, but nothing else.

This made me laugh because Mona had a point. Women all over the world either choose to show too much or too less. And that's always the issue! Clothes and how women present themselves are just one of the many never-ending talked about issues regarding women.

This is her website, she's very active in public speaking- click!

Funny also, how by searching for more video clips, I also found an interesting Video clip about Chloe Prince The Husband-turned-female, by ABC prime time. The man changing into a woman in front of his sons eyes. Finally feeling ‘happy’ that the ‘woman’ inside of him was recognized. Noting also he had klinefelter's syndrome - his chromosomes are XXY. So there is reason for his confusion.

I don’t know how it feels like to be a Transgander person (click for her blog). Or how it feels to be confused of your gender. But I know how it feels like to be a woman.

And though I wouldn’t judge Chloe Prince. I still feel sorry for him. Because no matter how many surgeries he does or take. No matter what he wears, what he sees. He’ll never know how it feels to be a real woman.

He’ll never understand that through all the pretty dresses, the perfume and the pinky color…the real woman is the one who upholds her responsibilities, as a woman.

And that is Islam. It is everything fair and beautiful. While men have their responsibilities and their hardships, our beauty, our wants, are our tests, our responsibilities.

I don’t know about other woman out there. But honestly, to me, it’s hard. That step to dignify yourself more, when you feel like you don’t deserve it. You feel ashamed. That step to turn away from that pretty red skirt and go for dark chocolate instead. It hurts. That one quick decision you make, whether to put it or not. When you think it’s ok, then people say it’s not. It’s torture.

Is wearing the niqab hard? Is wearing the hijab hard. Yes it is.

I don’t wear the niqab because I as a person, don’t know what benefits I could gain from it. I see other people wearing it and I know it’s beneficial for them. But maybe not for me.

I wear the hijab, because it’s my responsibility and I chose to uphold it. I chose to be responsible enough and wear it. There are days I cry by myself because I feel like I’m not doing it right. And not strong enough to be like everyone else. Yes, there are times I feel like a failure and fed up because I don’t feel that wearing it proves I’m pious enough. But I still pride myself in not taking it off. In being as good as I can be, and still wear the hijab.

Sometimes it's also such a blessing, to find such strength, just from a piece of cloth.

Is it worth it?

I see my mother striving to be that super woman she is, all awhile wearing the niqab. Proving people how wrong they are, that niqabi women can be in front of people, they can contribute to society. Proving to me that she could be someone. And I know it’s so worth it.

Wearing the hijab. I know, with every confidence, God will reward me for every hard suffering I make. Every temptation I manage to overcome. For the better. As I ask for forgiveness, I know He will be ready to forgive me. Because I might win some, I might lose some more. But I will always always be trying.

Men would always try to say something, either hurtful or harsh. Wondering why women can’t just cover up. Well women also wonder why men can’t stop raping and harassing women. See? Allah gives both Men and Women responsibilities and tests accordingly to them.

If only Chloe Prince understood this, he would understand why Rene (his wife), was a true woman for standing by for her children, when her husband left her.

If only Mona had met my mother, she would understand that Muslim woman disappearing from the society are THEIR choices. They don’t choose to come forward, like my mother had.

If only I was back home now, I would tell my mother, thank you for wearing the niqab.

Thank you for giving me enough strength to become a real woman.

me and my mom:

p/s Read more about France's ban on Niqabs- click!

Wouldn't really want Mona to support banning Niqabs everywhere, because what would then become of my mother??

I was Enchanted, but I have nothing

2011-04-08T10:06:00.000-07:00

Yes, always. I always feel like I have nothing. Nothing compared to the people who are better than me. Compared to world that is always so moving, so much going on. So many flowers, so many life.

Compared to the owner of everything.

I try my hardest to fill in my small life, with so many colors, so many shapes that aren't mine. Nothing is mine. And how shall I breathe not knowing what I should bring, should do. All I could take, I put here, for no one but me. Why. Why is there no one but myself to do something for myself?

'Why must your drawings always have to mean something?'

My dear friend, my every breath, must mean something. It just has to be.

Inspired by Wayne. Thank you for what you do. I was enchanted by you.

Arabic is Sweet. Yay.

2011-04-06T13:37:00.001-07:00

I am disgusted. To the point of vomit.

I am a sugar addict. There I said it. I finally admitted it.

I have a sweet tooth, and no one can say otherwise. Ever since I was young, I would drink those Ribena drinks or those Lipton tea drinks. Not for the Vitamin C (which we all found out was an outrageous lie) but for the sweetness of it.

I loved that Ribena bottle so much

I was one of those hyper kids that couldn’t have enough sugar for myself. But my parents were smart, they banned me from taking candy and simple sugary foods like Mentos, Sugus, and all the Ose Ose of Glucose.

To compensate for that, I always had sugary drinks. Always. I don’t drink plain water. Like ever.

I think Qus would gladly tell you how during our time in INTEC, I would everyday buy the orange juice the Cempaka restaurant sold. Three times- for breakfast, lunch and dinner. here, in Jordan, every time we go out for a date, I always, always ask for Vanilla Milk Shake. Another super sweet drink.

Oh, and don’t ask my housemates, what they went through- to heed my sugary cravings. There must always be juice stocks in the fridge. One night, we ran out of juice, and I couldn’t sleep without drinking a sweet drink. Feeling dehydrated and overly anxious, I took plain water and added spoon after spoon of sugar. And drank two cups whole of SUGAR WATER.

It got worst, by time, juices didn’t compensate for my sweet taste any more. I drank gas drinks, like Pepsi and sprite and & up and mountain dew for BREAKFAST.

And sometimes, sometimes, I naughtily add in sugar in my rice- so that it taste sweeter.

Don’t tell me I have the taste bud of a Kelantanese- I already know that. From INTEC, my first time ever, I ate foods from Kelantan (thanks to Naz and Izzah), and I was so happy to eat something so sweet. Like their Jelly, or sweet Murtabak, or the eggs that they fry in sugar. *drools*

It just made me crazier to think I could cook normal food, and turn them sweeter. I mean, I’ve never done it before, because everything I ate was always less sweet for my taste. Now I know I can just tip in more sugar in a meal- and make it sweeter. (That’s what happens when you don’t cook, everything is new discovery..gah…)

I tried out this online test, about sugar addicts. And it concluded that I was a sweet soother. Eating sweet things made me calm, less anxious, gave me an energy booster. It made sense, every time I didn’t drink or ate something sweet, my mind just couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t focus. Make sense.

It made me feel more relaxed, but it didn’t make me happy.

A lot of my friends have given ‘hard’ advices to me, to limit my sweet intake. And I know, deep down, their right. Taking too much sugar, could lead to so many diseases- diabetes, urine, indigestion, brain damage…

Ok, I don’t know about brain damage.

But the worst a sweet tooth could give you, would be damaged teeth. The last mini clinic I had a warning from my doctor (Kak Amani), to lessen my sugar intake.

“Your teeth are good, but the more sugar you take, the higher risk you have at carries. Just because I can’t see them now, doesn’t mean it’s not inside your teeth.”

Did you know that you could have a hole in your tooth---without realizing it??? Like what-?

I KNOW...it's like.....ewwwwwwwww...

And this is if the hole- isn't visible from the outside, double EWWW....

Like I already don’t have ENOUGH diseases to worry about. Why can’t I just lessen my sugar intake? Why can’t I just eat healthy? Why can’t I just drink plain water- for godssake?

The same crazy reason why I can’t I just learn and understand ARABIC already.

It’s been nearly 1 year and 6 months, give and take the time I went to Turkey, Syria, Egypt and returned back to Malaysia for Raya- I’ve been living ‘comfortably’ in Jordan. The place I was so-called destined to study. I’ve been living in my comfort zone so long- as someone who doesn’t get Arabic.

I still ask my friends to explain to me between whispers in class, I still can't fully understand what the lecturer is saying. I never completely understand what I'm learning. I still can't speak two sentences without making a fool of myself. I still can't write or translate in Arabic. I still can't READ my own book by myself.

Should I blame JPA for sending me to an Arab land (when I told them I wanted to go to the states, I told them!)

Should I blame my parents for forcing me to take a ‘serious’ and more ‘responsible’ course, instead of arts?

Should I blame my friends for being smarter than I am, just because their from KISAS? (seriously, why does that school freak me out?)

Years from now, when I’m working in a bank (if I ever do) and some Arab Millionaire comes to me to become a customer and speaks in Arabic. What do I do then? Call my housemates?

Years from now, when I go to the hospital, and go for my annual medical checkup/date with Dr Qus- I can’t imagine her gasping, wearing her cute pink stethoscope, holding her red vogue doctor coat dramatically and telling me. “I’m so sorry, Nafeesa, I think you have that very-dangerous-sugar-diseas-that’s-incurable-and-you-have-to-cut-your-leg-thing!” La samahallah.

Qus...it's sooooo cute, I'll get you one for your graduation haha!

Who will I blame then?

I am disgusted. To the point of vomit. With no one- but myself.

I have to stop following my feelings, my urge and temptation to take too much sugar. (Ok just three glasses a day, and half a glass of plain water)

I have to start kicking my butt and get a move on and learn Arabic already. (At least one new word each day, and two new Terrenganu words, ok kan?)

I have to learn to deal with my problems NOW, before it’s too late.If only I took sugar like I took Arabic. Or loved Arabic as much as I loved sugar. *sighs*

p/s It's so hard to resist temptation of things you want and so hard to do the things you DON'T want to do. hmmmmm......

Black & White

2011-04-02T12:39:00.001-07:00

-Vague-

I do have my dreams, And they may not seem like much to you, or people. But once upon a time, they were my dreams.

I don't remember when was the last time I saw a picture or my art work and double guessed what i meant by it.

Sometimes i think i know what i want, what I need. And I plan them out. But it all seems so vague, so un clear as my days pass by.

What is there for me to answer- for these life long questions.

Waking up, I can't remember what it felt to be truly free- of this worry. Worried I don't know what the picture of my dream is.

This uncertainty, is pulling me in to keep guessing. So vague, such a torture.

-My Fish of Choices-

And sometimes what you want, they come and go- as if gibing you clues and hints. Oh, this one looks like I can make it happen. Oh no, this one looks easy enough to do. But no, the other one is what I really really need.

Choices, come and go, like fishes in a pond. Too slow, and you might lose it, slipping through your fingers. Too fast, and you might scare them all away.

Scary enough, these choices, will determine whether or not you reach the place you should or need to go to. But how do you know what choices to take, when you can't even confirm you dream?

-Not Full Dream-

And then you hold onto one thing, that seems like the purpose and meaning. But you realize...you havent reached there yet.

Like a Wolf waiting for a full moon- what does it do before it sees it? Does it keep watching, waiting?

What if someone told you- there is no such thing as a full moon?

What if there is no truth in my dreams.

What if...there is something missing, from my dream?
Now what should I do?

Please run faster

2011-03-30T15:29:00.001-07:00

Every time there was a sports event being held- my heart would twinge in guilt.

I would feel guilty, first of all- for the sadness I felt when everyone was feeling so happy.

And I would feel guilty, because I was so full of green envy.

When I was eight, playing ‘police & 3’ outside- I suddenly felt immense pain in my chest- and fell down like a ruined building. ten years later, i was still sick. Still unable to run fast enough.

I’ve tried to run before- out of fantasy, and pure greed. And in the end I never managed to get pass the finish line without stopping and taking in a breather. I never could help from bending down and repent my chest pains.

I've never won a race.

When I was in form 4, it was the worst. Every month in and out of the hospital. I’m asthmatic. And was given steroids. I don’t think you have to be a Medic student to know what that meant. Steroids and themodyple helped me sleep through the night. But it changed my hormone activities. Made me dependent on medication. Made me feel unreal.

Sometimes I threw up if I couldn’t stand the medication. And felt nauseous. I can’t tell you how irritating it is to have to fiddle your bag for your inhaler just so you can breathe properly. Or how, it makes me hurt in my throat every time I press and use it.How dreadful it feels to realize your the center attention- because your too sick.

And still, still I couldn’t run faster.

In high school, every year, I would volunteer to give free drinks or be help wait at the ‘check mark’ for the long marathon run. I loved cheering people on- shouting was my specialty and clapping in support. And I would always imagine that those feet that were running, were actually mine. Running faster and faster.

I loved adrenaline. Loved the feeling on a speed roller coaster. Or riding a speeding car. Or being in the back of my uncle’s lorry while he pressed on the gas. Or when i was allowed on a motorbike (which was only twice!) I loved the feeling of wind in my face. The cold numbness that I escaped into every time I knew everything went by.

Like I was going somewhere.Somewhere fast. Like everyone else.

Sometimes I did try out, to run. For those few meters. 100m. 200m. but I would never be chosen to represent the team.I would always come out last. I would always end up falling down to my knees- in pain.

In form 5, my last year, I was determined to enter The School Marathon, by hook or by crook. And I got my wish. Training only by taking long walks. I could do this. I could walk through out the Marathon.

First time ever having an athlete number for a run. First time standing among friends in the Marathon line, waiting for the official PONNN to start. First time feeling like…I was strong enough.

Though half way, I realized my friends- whom were among the top athletes of the school, were slowing down too much, because of me.

I was dragging them down.

‘Hey, go on without me.’ I said between breathes.

‘Your sure your ok with that?’

‘Yeah…I’ll stop and rest if I’m too tired.’ I said confidently.

They nodded, and began to take a run. Leaving me.

It was stupid, I know. But between my chest pain and my inability to breathe, and my crushing heart. I cried.

It was so sad, to see them run away from me. And I could never catch up. It was almost unbearable to know that I can’t run fast enough.

Holding in the pain, trying not to take a shot at my inhaler. I jogged on.

They were ahead already. Please run faster. Faster, faster, faster.

Sometimes we see people so far away, so ahead of us. It makes us lose hope. Makes me feel like a loser for not being able to run fast enough. To not be able to be strong enough. Good enough.

I didn’t know why, I ouldnt run anymore. I stopped and took in my inhaler. And breathed. Cried.

I hated feeling left out. Feeling like I couldn’t complete something. Sports was where everyone strong was admired. And I could never be those people. I could never win.

I walked on. And on. And on. I was so slow.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Here, in Jordan, during PROSPEC. I had put my name in the 100m race. Then I overheard some girls ask if there were other running events, because she was a sprinter. Obviously, she had strong legs, good healthy body, and could run faster. Out of team spirit- I gave up my position to run, because I knew she could give the team a medal. Whereas I? i would only leave the team behind.

I’ve tried running from Bayt PERMAI to my house, so close, but I still get chest pains. I still can’t run fast enough.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

There…I saw the finishing line. My friends were there, waving at me. Squirting their water bottles. Jumping up and down when they saw me.

Like I was suddenly pressed to life. I couldn’t help but smile. There, was the finishing line. I could practically see the golden line at the end of the rainbow. It was the jackpot!

I was probably the last. Haha.

The strength came back in my legs and I couldn’t wait to be back with them- with those who had ended the race.

Years from now, no one would remember who came in last. People would just remember I finished. I couldn’t wait to run.

I couldn’t wait to finish. And as I took my final run, and fell into their arms. It was the best race I ever had.

Only because I realized, the race I had to finish was my own.

Derek Redmond Finished his race even Pain

In life, there will always be people who are so much better than you. Who will run faster. Do you stop in the middle? Or do you join them, slow but sure- at the end?

Are you still running? Are you finishing this race?

DAB: Part 5

2011-03-11T01:55:00.000-08:00

[My vision has long gone shattered...forgive me for not seeing clear anymore]

I don’t know if it’s a sickness that I have. But I blame Daniel for it- completely.

This crazy compulsive behavior, to just step forward instantly, and push away the black figure- who was a man wearing a black hood covering everything except for his black eyes. Three times taller and seven times my width. Holding a giant metallic club double the size of my head. From hitting the whimpering man.

It always had been my brother who did things without thinking. And I was always the more composed- let’s think things through person.

“Whhhhooooooo????” he suddenly thundered. The voice caught attention to my body again- sending shivers down my spine and through every other nerve.

Then I suddenly saw, to my utter dumb horror, the other hooded man- holding a metallic spike looking at me and shouting straight at my face. “Whhhhhhhooooooo??”

Damn it. This is definitely Daniel’s fault.

Izzy came running towards me, pulling my shirt and screaming “RUN-YOU-IDIOT!”.

Like the whole Underworld shook with is, we ran like scampering rats in a black long spiral of nowhere. Izzy thankfully released my ruined shirt, but I still kept an eye out for her red hijab.

Rhythmic thunders, I turned and saw both of the hooded men- running after us in long stomps. I took the lead now, pulling Izzy’s hand. Heading into the darkness.

My other hand scarpered the way, and I felt through holes and cave ins. The echo of their footsteps came closer, closer, closer…

This was just like one of those bad nightmares. Where the monster was running after you, and you were just running and running. Not knowing when to stop.

“Whoooooo???” one of them bellowed. Maybe it was just me. Maybe he was actually saying Hooooo? In that Frankenstein way?

We could never outrun them. I pulled Izzy to the side. ‘C’mon!’

We jumped, fell sideways inside one of the pitch black cave ins. Falling onto hard dirt rock ground. Stumbling down like a duck thrown off a cliff.

Ok, I don’t know why I thought of a duck.

We fell apart. Literally. And kept our mouths clamped, swallowing our groans of pain and sore bones, until the sound of Hooo’s and thunder passed us.

After a few minutes of nothing but breathing hard and making sure I didn’t wet myself, “Izzy?” I whispered. I heard something scamper, and jumped at the contact of Izzy’s hand on my chest.

“Daud?’ she said slowly.

“Yeah.” I breathed. Coughing nervously, I pushed her hands away slightly. Glad she took the hint, she retreated quickly.

Trying to do something else besides sitting awkwardly in the dark silence, I felt for my pockets, and found a hard rectangular shaped …cold…

My hand phone?

I felt for the buttons and my keypad came to life, giving light. Barely enough to see Izzy glaring at me.

‘What??’ I said exasperated.

‘ I can’t believe you nearly murdered us out there! I told you this isn’t the Upper world!’

‘Oh Sorry, I didn’t know I was suppose to watch him smashed to death!’ I said in the same strained tone, trying not to shout.

Izzy rolled her eyes. ‘Stop being so damn heroic. Have you forgotten- he’s dead. There’s nothing we can do.’

He’s dead…

‘Izzy…who were those men?’

‘Angels.’ She corrected me. ‘But not the flowery, cupid type. Munk and Nank. They are the questioners of the Underworld.’

‘What do they ask?’

‘I don’t know.’ she snapped.

I gulped silently. What was this place? Why were there questions asked….and people whimpering… and torture.

Izzy stood up suddenly, scanning the black overview of nothingness. ‘We have to get out of here.’

But I couldn’t. Daniel could be here. And as I imagined him being clubbed by overgrown hooded men, it give me strength to know that I had to find him. If there were questions need answering, then I had to go and help answer for them. Whether if it was by taking down the Munk or Nank Angel- by force. (Like I had the strength). This time, I had to save him.

I stood up too. Instead of following Izzy’s lead, I went in the opposite direction. Bringing the light with me.

Izzy trotted after me. ‘Where are you going???’

I ignored her, focusing on figuring where the hole/ tunnel would lead to. Another entrance, or just a black hole?

One way to figure it out. I walked, Izzy followed, mumbling ‘suicidal’, ‘moron’ and many other names I’d rather not hear. I didn’t know why she didn’t just leave me. But I was somehow glad she was with me. After a good ten minutes, meeting nothing. To both of our relief.

This Underworld was a high underground tunnel. Beneath my sneakers, I felt the hard ground and rubble. And my hands and face were stuck with dirt. Breathing was also not something comfortable to do. Though I knew, I was dead. But still, I felt a little restricted inside.

There was the faint sound of the faint cackle of fire miles away. Silence beating alongside our footsteps that clamped into the dirt. Was this still Earth? Or another planet?

Then someone screamed. And screamed. And it came some more. Coming in soundless waves of sure torture. Voicing pain.

I hovered closer to Izzy. Regretting pulling her with me. Somehow, this wasn’t a place for her either.

Then by the end- another scream. And I saw light shining from it. Curious I peeked through the corners, Izzy closed her ears.

They were those who were crushed under rock-even dead…they looked like they were live enough to feel the pain.

I turned to close myself from the sight. Then my eyes caught sight of a man being chained at his hands and his feet. Covered with worms. Eating him inside out. His face and naked body, nothing but gory half eaten holes. His skin dead and rotten. I was sure he was dead.

Then his hollow eyes opened and his mouth opened.

‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa……’

Freak.

I pulled Izzy- who was petrified beyond words- deeper into the tunnel. But the deeper we ran the more bodies we saw…they weren’t bloodied. They were cut, crushed, opened...all interior organs splayed out. Surely Pained.

And every time they gave us fresh screams of revulsion.

I pushed Izzy to the side of the rubble wall, ‘Izzy, what’s happening? Why are they being tortured?’

Her words shook my interior. ‘They deserve it.’ She said in between breaths because even she was crying.

The Angel of death was crying. Why did they deserve this?

‘How long will they be here?’ I whispered, barely enough to be heard with all the sound.

‘Until…’ she stopped, biting her quivering lip. ‘…the End.’ She sobbed.

I couldn’t figure out what that meant. Because the screams were breaking into the silence more prominently now. Permanently embedding in my cochlea. Straining my brain. We ran some more. Afraid of being caught. But unsure where to go.

We ran until the edge of the cliff, I caught myself from falling. The dim light of my hand phone gave me poor view of what seemed to be…a lake?

The smell was overpowering. Like rotten flesh, meshed for days…

‘Oh God.’ Izzy closed her mouth and nose. Making gagging sounds.

And I knew why. It wasn’t a lake. It was a sea of bodies. Dead. Rotten. Helpless human bodies.

to be continued...

The Right Person

2011-03-10T14:38:00.001-08:00

[I used to wish I had sisters like these...

now i'm so thankful i have just one]

Remember when you watch that sappy love drama…entitled (I don’t know!) let’s say: pink/blue/red Flower…and then you watch the heroine go trampling through her love life, deciding on this oh-so cliché drama between two guys. Always asking: how do I know who’s the right one?

I usually don’t watch the ending. Meh. But it happens I know.

So how do you choose the right person?

“Choose the one you can’t live without.”-Gray Sanders in Alpha...it’s a paranormal novel about morphing humanlike were cats.

“The one that gives you that purpose to live, that’s your one and only”-A president, I think.

“He or she is that weird person who knows all your bad sides, but still wants to keep you.”-My friend, when she tried to give me tips about guys.

“I knew because I had a peace at heart.” Saiful Islam, quoted by someone I can’t remember.

I once watched this movie acted by Alyssa Milano (a.k.a Phoebe in Charmed) about choosing between Mr. Perfect and Mr. Right. And I was a bit upset at the plot line (because it was so obvious she liked the other guy better because he was rich and had looks!). But in the end, I think the story was trying to put forward a very interesting idea.

“The Right person is the one who inspires you.”

That blew me away. Because they are so many people that have inspired me. Moved me. And what’s funny is because they just took seconds to change me.

-When I was younger, I was a little nervous at sleeping alone and to keep my pride I would try to talk to my brothers. Stay a little longer with them, in their room. They eventually asked me things about the world. And from questions, turned into stories. Every night one new chapter.

With them, I found the joy of creating.

-I was always shy to tell people I liked to draw. Because people would always tell me I was good at debating, at being in front. And it felt like a weird hobby. Till I found a pen-pal, long distance friend. And showed things I drew for leisure. My friend’s words, “You’re so brave to show me your feelings.”

With that, I realized the wonders of sharing.

-I remember looking at my opponent, in the final debate match against STAR boys’ school, nervous as hell. Afraid to lose. My senior of years whom had taught me nearly everything, with his harsh words, sat beside me. I thought he was going to rant to me about winning. Instead he said, “Just enjoy your eight minutes, Naf.”

And I began to value opportunity.

-I came back home late. Only busying myself with worldly things, one of my friend’s called me out for dinner. I looked at the plates set, and mines was missing. She pointed at the pan with some rice left. ‘That’s yours.’ Confused, I took the rice anyway. Noticing mines was different. Then she added. ‘Yours is sweeter. I added more sugar.’

Not many people know I liked my food sweet. I would never have the heart to complain.

Touched, I learned to be understanding.

-Heartbroken, torn between reality and fantasy, unable to accept my responsibilities. I think I was really crazy. And rambling nuisance to my victim-friend, who was forced to eat Hardees curly fries and vanilla milkshakes with me. I didn’t know who I was, what I was doing. I was this young adult who felt unfit in the world. And all she did was smile, saying. “But I accept you as who you are.”

Just like that, I understood what it felt like to be appreciated.

It’s weird how short scenes like that change your life. And end up defining you.

Life isn’t just about finding that right person, it’s about being inspired. And whoever comes your way, they all have a purpose to either change you or be changed.

And I’ll tell you one secret, it’s not that hard to find people who inspire you. You just have to look and admire.

And you’ll see, these mangy, weird looking, crazy talking homo sapiens, are the right people in your life. Spot on. Haha.

Thank you, Allah.

p/s siapa inspire saya untuk cakap bahasa ganu? Cikgu Stoppa…=.=’