Hot Season

https://listenonrepeat.com/?v=f6bHMLFwJmw&s=&e=#Sad_Piano_Music_-_Searching_(Copyright_Free)

A hot season with a cool mug of iced tea in both hands,

Fresh from class,

From frantic people,

From mind wrecking decisions

From stifling lecturers,

From random passerby,

From the golden sun,

From the clear blue sky,

From a day filled with different levels of energy.

“It’s fun but also tiring”,

She types in her whatsapp group,

Not intending to complain but,

To just let it out ,

Let it out,

Of the system that lies in a human physique.

“I mean, I AM happy. I love what I do. I am proud of myself for handling everything so well.”

“but, sometimes, the heat gets to me. I hate how I always watch other people’s whatsapp stories, I hate how I always glance at my whatsapp to see if there’s any new messages although my brain is full. I can’t respond to everyone who needs me. I can’t please everyone who seeks me. I can’t be the perfect figure for people who looks at me. My life is full. I wonder what’s my limit on these days? On days where I walk under the sun while maintaining a calm composure, wincing at the heat.”

Then, as the headache knocks,

And the heat level increases,

And auto-pilot mode activates,

She realize,

“Ahh, I have reach my limit. Right, let’s take a break.”

And curtains drawn,

A mug of iced tea,

Laptop ready,

Earphones on,

Calming tunes began to play,

she moves,

And listen,

And watch,

And write,

Whatever her heart wills,

And the weather becomes cooler,

The breeze began to enter,

Into her dimly lit room,

Colors began to form,

Splashes of red, blue, purple,

Recolor her fading soul,

Spreading warmth,

And comfort,

Until finally the end product,

Her heart beats again,

With life,

Spirit,

And a soothing coolness.

“Could this be the iced tea effect?”

She wonders,

As she sips her sweet tea,

And allows the coolness of the mug,

To sink into her dry palms,

And cools her humid world.

Miracles of 22

22 but not 22. I think, this age, is a beautiful age. Even, balanced, sturdy. As if a symbolic on how my life at 22 will be. I feel free, calmer, yet bolder.

I have many fears. Including the type of fear that haunts and clings to me. Growing up, I tend to keep things to myself, and simply live, with a thousand and one ghost in my head. I lived in a cage I made by myself, for myself.

Little by little, as time goes by, I entered new surroundings, met new people, made new memories, obtained new responsibilities, and most importantly, discovered more of me.

I am a very blessed person. My parents, are the kindest. They stood by me, helped me, supported me, remained patient with me, and for me, I realize now, what really warmed me is the fact that they so readily admitted their faults, mistakes and weaknesses as parents and individuals. For me, I have never solely put the blame on these two gentle individuals who have raised me into who I am today, yet, even from the start, the moment they realize I had problems, I had depression, I had trust issues, they said sorry, and did their best to show me how much they love me, how much they want me to express more to them, and just, be happy.

“All mak ayah wants is for you to be happy. Be happy”

They, I believe, is the foundation for my liberation from depression, and a motivation for me to continue to do my best in everything I do. I want to make them happy, because as a sinful person, they are my temporary heaven that Allah SWT has bestowed on me. One day they will be gone, but when that day comes, I want to be able to look back and smile in gratitude. Alhamdulillah, is what I wish to say, whenever that day comes. For I wouldn’t know what I would become if it wasn’t for the love they wholeheartedly gave me. My beautiful parents. I am only 22 yet they have done so much for me. O Allah, how much time do I have left with them? Make me a daughter who will always bring a smile on their gentle faces. Please.

22.

2019.

Struck me as an intriguing phase. At least in what has happened in the past few months. I don’t even know how to best express what I’m feeling and thinking. I just, think what has happened is really really phenomenal. Allah’s plan is indeed beautiful. It’s true, all you need to do is always, always, do your best, always self-reflect, always keep to what’s right, never give up, and trust in Allah’s plan and the hikmah behind everything. When the time is right, it will come, and you will be more than ready for whatever is coming, because Allah knows you’re a better person now, calmer, more rationale, more capable, and equipped with what is needed to handle what you wished you could a year and two years before. Alhamdulillah. Allah is indeed the all-knower.

9th of March 2019.

Yesterday, I got the opportunity and blessing to attend Ustaz Nouman Ali Khan’s Miracles in Kuala Lumpur. I haven’t listened to him for a long time prior to the event, but I remember how much I love his youtube videos talking about the surahs and Arabic. I love how he took the Quran and shares it to the world in such an interesting and relatable way. As a person who loves language and stories, his way of teaching captured me and made me realize how beautiful the Quran and Islam is. May Allah grant him the highest paradise.

I remember sitting at my seat, 4^throw from the front. I could clearly see his expressions, his gestures, the way he delivers his speech, and his radiant energy. I remember feeling slightly teary when he somehow spoke of things that I could relate to in my current life.

He was telling us the story of Nabi Musa A.S. and he was at the part where Allah SWT told Musa A.S. to go back to the nation which he ran away from. Ustaz Nouman said something along this line –

“Sometimes Allah help us get away from people (who are toxic to us, who we can do nothing to fix the situation or relationship, who continues to make us feel horrible, or abuse us), but when we are strong enough, He sends us back”

I personally felt that in my chest. That is exactly what happened in these past few months. Somehow, I am getting involved again, directly and indirectly, with groups/people whom I had issues with/made me feel useless, horrible, and depressed, groups/people whom I wished to work with but couldn’t in the past but couldn’t due to my principles and priorities. Bless be to Allah The Almighty, he led me to them, without my knowledge, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. 

You know when something affected you so badly, even seeing a hint of a name, or picture, or smell, or building, or even a shadow that gives a tiny whiff of the old memories, will propel you down into a self-torture state of “why” and guilt and a strong stench of being a loser, failure and a horrible person. You feel fake, dirty and miserable. Even just the tiniest trigger of memories could drag you back into the dark. This phase, is a long and tiring phase, which no one else knows nor understands. It’s you VS yourself. As always.

Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. At least now, I can say I’m free from two ghost. I might have other ghost within me, still clenching onto my heart, and clinging onto my cells, but at least, now, I feel much more lighter. Hey, I still have a lot of things I worry about, but freeing myself from those two ghost feels nice enough. Imagine if I can free myself from all the other ghost within me.

Insha Allah. 

Flights – Olga Tokarczuk

When I first started this book, I kept getting lost in its passages. 

Like a new kid in a new classroom, like a traveler in a new place, 

I kept looking back retracing my steps to gain a footing in the story that unravels within the clean white pages of Flights. 

Then gradually, as I began to gain an insight on the concept of the book, 

I simply read on and immersed myself into the blanket of words and the world that comes with it. 

The stories told in this book were all mostly very new to me, very foreign,

I felt like I’m the owner of an apartment building to which I have the keys for all of its doors. 

I like how it kept mentioning about travel, 

the sensations felt in flights, 

airports, time, existence, infinite, finite, 

and humans in its fragility and agility.

I found it wonderful how the book weaved its way through such a detached yet complete way, 

hopping from one sequence to another, much to the pleasure yet confusion of the reader. 

I remember being surprised as I turned to the next page and realised the page was blank. 

I didn’t want it to end just yet and I couldn’t guess when it will end unlike other books I have read due the way it uphold itself.

At the last page, I felt as if I was about to embark on another journey, riding on a plane around complete strangers, anticipating what is about to come. I really like the ending, especially since I have always like the concept of flights and airports. It was an enlightening read. Another journey made in the crevice of my quiet world.

Di-Bawah Alunan Ombak, A.Rashid Bin Ngah

DI-BAWAH ALUNAN OMBAK, A. RASHID BIN NGAH, 1970

SA-PATAH KATA

            Pengalaman2 dalam masa pendudokan Pemerentahan Tentera Jepun di-tanah ayer kita waktu Perang Dunia 2 dahulu ada-lah pengalaman yang luar biasa. Luar biasa dari segi penderitaan hidup dan luar biasa dari segi jiwa dan rohani tiap2 orang yang hidup waktu itu.

            Belum banyak pengalaman2 tersebut di-kesahkan sa-chara mendalam oleh penulis2 novel kita dan belum pula banyak di-cheritakan dengan chara yang menarek hati serta memberikan gambaran yang sesuai untuk bachaan anak2 kita yang sedang meningkat ‘umor belajar berfikir.

            Buku DI-BAWAH ALUNAN OMBAK ini di-terbitkan untok memenuhi kehendak yang kedua itu. Buku ini mencheritakan dengan mudan dan menarek hati akan sa-bahagian dari kesah yang di-alami oleh pendudok2 di-Pantai Timor waktu akhir2 pendudokan Tentera Jepun itu.

            Dan yang mustahak sa-kali buku ini menanamkan beneh kebenchian terhadap perang, di-samping menyuborkan bibit keberanian dan ketabahan dalam dada anak2.

            Buku ini khas di-terbitkan untok bachaan orang2 muda peringkat Sekolah Menengah, tetapi tidak-lah pula kurang elok-nya untok bachaan orang2 yang lebih dewasa.

Syed Nasir Bin Ismail

Pengarah DBP

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

This is a book I read in 2018. The foreword is simple and direct but it warms my heart upon seeing the sincerity of the author in writing this book. 

This book was published on the concern that there are not many stories about the life in Malaya during the Japanese occupation and World War 2 that are interesting or suitable enough for the young generation. The life during the occupation was described as surreal in its sufferings and the mental and spiritual state of the people in that era.

It was stated that the most important objective of this book is to cultivate hatred towards war and instill values about bravery, patience and perseverance towards the young generation. 

I wish to make a book review on this classic as I think the message of this book is too precious to be wasted in the yellowish pages of his book. We'll see about this review. I have to be a bit more rajin for this review as it has been a long time since I read this book. We'll see.

Book Review on Writer VS Editor by Ria n. Badaria

This is a book that caught my interest through its title ‘Writer VS Editor’ and the ‘Penulis Muda Berbakat Terbaik Khatulistiwa Literary Award 2008-2009’ tag that comes with it. I wanted know what made the book so great to deserve that award and really, reading the book is the only way for me to receive the answer.

It is a story about how the lives of Nuna, an aspiring writer, and Rengga, an editor, interweaves and unfold into romance and drama.

The first few pages captured my attention because of the author’s way of characterizing the two main characters and their respective lives. They are both opinionated people, can come off strong to people they dislike, one is working in a store?, another in a book company, and they both have traits that I find admirable and just plain stupid. Good enough for me to immerse myself in their worlds as I wanted to know how their paths will cross and the two characters clash their personalities.

Even in the very beginning, the author described how Nuna, the lady main character, has an obsession towards korean dramas. Nuna, quite a few times in the book, envy and wished she could be like that female main character in the korean drama she was watching. Why? Because the female main character have two handsome, hot and rich bachelors fighting for her love. Duh. Interesting how the author made that link between the drama and  Nuna’s real life drama which she, at that time, haven’t realized that. The part about Nuna envying the female lead in the drama, and the love Nuna had for Korean dramas that was told to readers a lot in the beginning forshadowed how much Nuna’s life will turn into a korean drama itself. I could clearly paint out the scenes that will unfold as soon as I made that forshadowing conclusion.

The one thing I really liked in this book is how the author created such a good chemistry between Rengga and Randit, and also Nuna and her bestfriends. Their conversations and reactions towards each other are always filled with comical and sarcastic moments. They are the type of friends whom you can always rely on to knock your head when you’re acting like an idiot yet comfort you when you’re down in the slums. I feel like the friends here, plays a huge role in supporting Nuna and Rengga to continue giving their best to their life. Honestly those two would have a hard time achieving their ambitions if not for their friends firmness and support.  I also enjoy seeing how Nuna and Rengga often naturally share their problems and dramas to their friends. I think that’s very important, mental-health-wise. The friendship portrayed in this book is very mature and warm, suitable with the life of the main characters.

My slight awkwardness with the book is how, after reading about half of the book, and having read the part about classic male main character getting drunk and unconsciously kissed the female main character, and then suddenly after some pages, there was a scene about Nuna’s father passing away and the family read Yasin together… Idk about you, but I was shocked on the Yasin part. Duh, after alcohol and kissing, I kind off thought Nuna is a non-muslim. What a shocker, but is it?. Quite a few times in the book, there was mention of God by the character, but really, that’s pretty common. The only time the book depicted Nuna as a muslim was during the Yasin part. Unsure about the rest of the characters since nothing was mentioned. Of course, this is just a nagging thought of mine. I felt like maybe, the religion part can be portrayed better?. But it could also be the lifestyle of Nuna is the lifestyle led by the author and the people around her. To each their own perspective on love, life, and religion. Heh.

Asides from that, I like the writing style of the author. Her writings are so filled with life. Like I could imagine her characters in real life. They are realistic, fun, irritating, and have all the spices needed to make a fun book. Regarding the plot, it was too cliché for me. In the beginning, it was alright, but the moment Arfat came home and Rengga fell in love with Nuna, the book turned into the Korean drama on Nuna’s TV screen (minus that evil mother in law or female love rival). I don’t think this is neither a bad or good thing. I’m sure a lot of people will enjoy reading this book. I enjoyed it quite a bit. Like I said, I like the author’s writing style and I’m sure there’s plenty of reasons as to why the book won a literary award.

Would I read it again? No. The storyline is not for me. Though I would recommend this book to those who enjoy reading classic romance, and a leisure read.

“Hidup memang tidak selalu berjalan sesuai rencana atau kehendak manusia. Akan selalu ada kejutan di setiap sesinya, entah kejutan itu akan berakhir menyenangkan atau tidak, tergantung dari mana kita sebagai pelaku hidup ini melihatnya. Maka di sinilah manusia, pelakon hidup yang harus siap menghadapi kehidupan yang penuh misteri, dengan atau tanpa rencana.”

Once upon a time

I miss being a child,
I wish,
I can turn back time and become a child,
and live wholeheartedly as a child,
never wishing stupid wishes such as,
I wish I'm old enough,
I wish I grow up faster,
I wish I can do more things,
and just live, as a child.

Being a child is not always about being happy all the time,
but it's about still being a human,
filled with spirit and soul,
filled with all the life the world can offer,
taking in everything with enthusiasm,
with hands that might scar,
with legs that might fall,
with a heart that might break,
but a soul that still radiates,
like the light that shines from a warm sun.

A child is a gift,
a child is a reminder,
a reminder that once upon a time,
we had soul.

Once upon a time,
we had spirit.

Once upon a time,
we were alive.

A letter of 'Moving on'

11:42 pm  and my senses feels heavy with fatigue. A type of fatigue that I have been excessively applying upon myself unconsciously these past few weeks. A fatigue that drains you from the inside and turn your sight into gray. A phantom fatigue.

Today. The phantom has calmed down. So here's a letter. For the phantom to move on.


Relationships are futile.
Relationships are fragile.
Relationships are meant to be formed,
broken,
and amended.

Relationships,
some of them are visible to the eyes,
some,
works itself in its own mysterious ways.

Relationships, should be treated with care,
love,
tolerance,
but should also be discarded when considered toxic.

Relationships, are formed everyday and everywhere in every second that we breathe in.
Every minute, every hour.

Twinkling eyes,
Sunken eyes,
Observing eyes,
Broken eyes,
are all the results of relationships.

Giving yourself into any relationship, is giving a piece of yourself to someone who has the ability to either heal, break, empower and change you.

Given to the right person, it is a key to somewhere that we call 'a better life'.
Given to the wrong person, 'a better life' might not be with that person.
Yet, that wrong person, might not actually be the 'wrong one' at the time where you formed a relationship. That 'wrong one' might have been an important presence in your life that has shaped so much of you into who you are right now. Is there even a 'wrong person' in our life?

There was once a time, where I have slowly but gradually opened up pages in my book of life that I have never opened to others. It was a delicate process. A very highly sensitive movement on my own behalf. Fear was my best friend. The fear of letting others hold a piece of such a delicate side of you in their hands. I somehow, still gave them the autonomy. Slowly giving my trust and heart to them. Slowly maturing and growing. Slowly opening up to the world bit by bit.

There were days where I doubt they can hold onto me for too long. There were days where I was cynical of the bond we have formed and the depth that it contains. There were also days where my heart was warmed by the good memories and comforting words. We accepted each other as who we are. I loved them. For a girl who have lived her life moving from place to place from a young age, unable to form bonds for too long with others, naturally, trust and stability comes at a high price. Thus, being able to meet people who accepts so much of her, was calming.

As calm as the calm before a storm.
A storm that came without a sound.
The moment it hits, there was two option.
One. Fix the mess caused by the storm.
Two. Nothing can be done. Move on.

The first time it happened, I was a mess but it was fixed. It was good for a while.

The second time it happened, I knew I wouldn't want it to happen for the third time. Time's up.

but letting go and moving on is easier said than done. How can it be not when you have grown so accustomed and used to sharing so much of yourself to them.

and "we got your back", "we will always be here for you", and all those calming words keeps entering your head like the dizzying sound of an unseen mosquito. The more you shake it off, the stronger it comes back.

I thought I could handle it, but I guess I'm still learning how to be stronger, accept, forgive and forget.

I was on the ground, shrouded with a blanket of mistrust, the feeling of betrayal, disappointment and sadness. Yet, another part of me understands that everyone have their own reasons in doing whatever they are doing. Everyone have their problems, opinions and for all of that, I accepted what has happened as it is.

It was just me all along. Still learning about life. Learning how to take in everything with a dose of maturity. Forgive and forget, a wise voice advised. Forgive and forget.

If opening up your heart and handing out your trust to people caused you to cry countless of times and triggered your mental health to the point where you have to make the decision to finally eat an anti-depressant pill, maybe it's not them who are in the wrong but it's you. It's me. It's okay. It's okay.

I know. I hate how I get so sensitive to anything that involves the people I love. I hate how I give them so much power without their knowledge to shape my life. But what's the point of hating? What is done, is done.

I have to continually teach myself to be stronger and wiser,
to be accepting and merciful,
to be a person who continues to live as long as there is a ray of hope that shines in her life. If all hope ceases, then, she will light the hope by herself.

Till the day where I can find solace within myself, I will always be grateful for each relationship that was formed between me and other people in this life. Whatever the outcome was, I have concluded that it's for the best. I believe that those thoughtful and calming words comes sincerely from their heart. It's just that our paths decided to diverge from each other. When paths diverge, it means that a new chapter must be opened. It is time to move on.

In the hopes of being able to lift the heaviness from my soul, I write.
Pray. Let us all have a better life and find the solace we seek before our death comes.
Forgive, forget, move on.