Still emotionally dry, let's write.
Write away your sorrow, your confusion, you unrecognized sadness.
Write through the night,
with a brittle heart.
Second grain of salt :
PMGS17.
What a topic. A topic that shatters me every single time. Yet, a topic that strengthened me. A chapter of my life where I was taught that everyone is always happy to complain.
A chapter where I fell down and had to boldly gulp away the pills of lessons.
A chapter where I had to learn to suppress my feelings for a better day.
A chapter where I was taught that visions, are nothing but illusions.
A chapter where I silently took in the hardships of those around me knowing that the only thing I could offer was a prayer.
A chapter where many were left weary but filled.
Filled with the unfaltering strokes of hikmah.
Like a child's first dissapointment, of not getting what she wants.
But,
look at what I learned throughout the few months of PMGS17. Look at the character I build throughout the months. Look at the bonds I managed to possess due to it. Look. Look with your heart. Look with the eyes of hikmah.
I wouldn't be confident in some the things i'm doing now if it wasn't for the hazardous ride I went through.
A ride in which I entered smiling an innocent smile and exited with a weary smile.
Hikmah dalam tawar.
Friday, 28 April 2017
Tawar dan Hikmah
Tawar dan hikmah.
Because someone is sad and tired tonight, let's write about her life. The little pieces of her life sewn with a thread called hikmah.
"tak sakit ke? biasanya orang complain sakit."
"hmm saya dah biasa."
The pain you experienced are also the things that shaped the you today.
The salt in your soup.
The hikmah in the tawar.
A grain of salt :
CFS UIAM PJ years. It was around 9pm. Alone and tired. I sat at the bus stop at LRT University hoping for a bus to apparate in front of me and whisk me to a land of nowhere. Waited. No bus came. There was a girl beside me but both of us simply sat and waited for the bus in silence.
"Nak pergi mana?' My quiet voice flew into the night.
"UIA"
"Eh samalah."
"Rasanya bus macam dah takde ni. Jom grab car sama sama."
and I ended up riding the grab car with a completely new company. She was nice. The grab car driver was nice. Despite the fact that i had to literally flip over my purse to pay for the ride (sebab i'm an antique person. My purse is filled with coins, and receipts.)
UIAM Gombak, A rainy day. My 7E maroon umbrella is nowhere to be found. Stranded. I leaned against a wall and stared into the rain. Tired. What a tiring week. God. My heart wept. I looked around hoping to see a familiar face. Nil.
A girl came out from the class to my right. She looked at me and a bulb flickered in the depth of my memories. It was the grab car girl.
"Nak tumpang payung boleh?'
"Boleh boleh."
and I safely reached IIUM's mosque with a partially drenched self. If i had not coincidentally met the grab car girl on that one night, I would probably have to wait for a longer time at HS building until the rain ceased or another familiar person passed by.
Hikmah dalam tawar.
Just a grain of salt out of the ocean of spices swirling together in a bowl we call life.
Because someone is sad and tired tonight, let's write about her life. The little pieces of her life sewn with a thread called hikmah.
"tak sakit ke? biasanya orang complain sakit."
"hmm saya dah biasa."
The pain you experienced are also the things that shaped the you today.
The salt in your soup.
The hikmah in the tawar.
A grain of salt :
CFS UIAM PJ years. It was around 9pm. Alone and tired. I sat at the bus stop at LRT University hoping for a bus to apparate in front of me and whisk me to a land of nowhere. Waited. No bus came. There was a girl beside me but both of us simply sat and waited for the bus in silence.
"Nak pergi mana?' My quiet voice flew into the night.
"UIA"
"Eh samalah."
"Rasanya bus macam dah takde ni. Jom grab car sama sama."
and I ended up riding the grab car with a completely new company. She was nice. The grab car driver was nice. Despite the fact that i had to literally flip over my purse to pay for the ride (sebab i'm an antique person. My purse is filled with coins, and receipts.)
UIAM Gombak, A rainy day. My 7E maroon umbrella is nowhere to be found. Stranded. I leaned against a wall and stared into the rain. Tired. What a tiring week. God. My heart wept. I looked around hoping to see a familiar face. Nil.
A girl came out from the class to my right. She looked at me and a bulb flickered in the depth of my memories. It was the grab car girl.
"Nak tumpang payung boleh?'
"Boleh boleh."
and I safely reached IIUM's mosque with a partially drenched self. If i had not coincidentally met the grab car girl on that one night, I would probably have to wait for a longer time at HS building until the rain ceased or another familiar person passed by.
Hikmah dalam tawar.
Just a grain of salt out of the ocean of spices swirling together in a bowl we call life.
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