...that was one of the titles of the entries in my Poetry & Prose Journal. Madam said she liked the titles I wrote, though she might not have any idea that I'm really over writing titles these days. 

Assalamualaikum wbt..

*INHALE, EXHALE*

Alhamdulillah, I am still alive, well and breathing (though it's a bit hard due to a certain clogging feeling in my nose, and a vacuum-like painful suctions in my head for a few weeks now). Been very busy; a lot of sleepless nights and unfinished/rushed works. Being one of the faculty Excos does feel hellish at times because there were are much workloads and roles you have to carry, but most of the time it felt nostalgic, as if I am back in Ibrahim again. Busy, tired, but satisfied. Appreciation and contentment. It feels heavenly to live with a purpose. To be able to learn everyday from great people. Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah. 

A lot happened during the course of these few weeks, and I was dying to update when I was deep in those overwhelming situations, but there were really no time to do that. I don't even know when will I actually have the privilege of saying I have time because the schedule is packed like catfood. 

Now it's my favourite night of all the nights in the week. FRIDAY NIGHT!!
Let's SLEEP. 

- wallahualam

Bismillahhirrahmanirrahim..

I guess it was only my dreamy perception that Literature lecturers or teachers should be the most interesting persons on earth, judging from those I've had the chance being a student of. Except for one from last semester (Miss A was a favourite one), everyone else was disappointing in a way that the subject has now become something I dread to learn or attend class for. 

Maybe it's a bit early to judge Madame based on only these few classes this month (which are also cut short because I cut classes twice theehee) but the first, second and third impressions were not as well as I'd expected. I can't accept the fallacy of the supposedly democratic literature classroom which hasn't emerged so far, the rigid interpretation of poetry by one who is supposed to be the master of the subject, and underestimation of students' capability. I'm still bitter about being told I was 'torturing a confession out a poem' (a reference to a Collins' poem, Introduction to Poetry), when the very thing she keeps doing is that and that alone. If one were to voice a personal opinion about a poem, I imagine a literature lecturer/teacher should be flexible and open about it. If it strays too much from the context and there are signs of obvious misunderstandings, the lecturer/teacher should be more of a guide to show where the loophole is, instead of giving "yes" "no" "you're wrong" and "go back and google the answers" to students. I reckon I was a bit offended when she said all of us supposedly knows nothing about poetry, and this is an introductory course to us newbies who also supposedly hate poetry to our bones, when I've been writing poems since school and a big fan of poetry for years. I am a fan of Billy Collins long before she gave us his poem on the first class. I imagine many of my peers are fans/ writers themselves and they're also stupefied by the statement. We might know little about the meters and whatnot, but to say that we do not have room for personal interpretations is a bit over the top.

I think I have to start back the list 'What to do/ not to do as teachers' that I created in semester two (and discarded later after number 3) and that I don't be hangat-hangat tahi ayam about it :p

With these in mind, I need to work harder! Inshaallah, I pray that Allah s.w.t will show me the way towards becoming a good educator, Amin.

- Wallahualam

Bismillahhirahmanirrahim..

Went on a car ride with my previous housemate cum the good friend, singing some good ol' songs on her phone. Good times, good times.
Miss her so.

Bismilahhirrahmanirrahim..

Changes are imminent, I've accepted is a sort of a normalcy in my life. Reality pushes you so hard at times especially when you're a nobody with nothing to own but with everything at stake. There is indeed no room for weakness or melancholy when your priorities are set. The experience of seeing the respected adults in my life struggle with the real face of the world beckons me to push my crybaby aside (though it still exist, screaming) and face everything with a stronger, more mature temperament. I've come to accept things as they are and how Allah s.w.t has written it to be, though not many of my peers do. And that will be my challenge!

Moved to college and everything turns out well, Alhamdulillah. With this challenging new semester I find myself constantly not believing the reality of being able to move forward onto another level, one step nearer to the goal. Everything moves so quickly, and the money flows out fast. The Guides' has been calling me to join the management of the (positively neverending) activities, including one big international event this year and another two local ones. Wow, it feels like I'm in Ibrahim once again..

..though I'm really worried that I've lost the skill/ not have the fitness to do these things. Subhanallah! I do hope things will work out, and I will work hard too!

- Wallahualam

Rasulullah (Sallallahu alaihe wasallam) said:

‘When a man dies and his relatives are busy in funeral, there stands an extremely handsome man by his head. When the dead body is shrouded, that man gets in between the shroud and the chest of the deceased. When after the burial, the people return home, 2 angels, Munkar and Nakeer(names of two special Angels), come in the grave and try to separate this handsome man so that they may be able to interrogate the dead man in privacy about his faith. But the handsome man says, ‘He is my companion, he is my friend. I will not leave him alone in any case. If you are appointed for interrogation, do your job. I cannot leave him until I get him admitted into Paradise ‘. Thereafter he turns to his dead companion and says, ‘I am the Qura’an, which you used to read, sometimes in a loud voice and sometimes in a low voice. Do not worry. After the interrogation of Munkar and Naker, you will have no grief.’ When the interrogation is over, the handsome man arranges for him from Al-Mala’ul A’laa (the angels in Heaven) silk bedding filled with musk. Rasulullah (Sallallahu alaihe wasallam) said: ‘On the Day of Judgement, before Allah, no other Intercessor will have a greater status than the Qura’an, neither a Prophet nor an angel.

(source: praise-allah/tumblr)

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim...

Consider yourself extremely ignorant if you think that a Muslim woman in her jilbab is nothing but a slave to her male counterparts. 

The concept is easy; if every single person of a community hold on to the same belief and execute it righteously, the belief will eventually be accepted by others as a symbol of identity for that particular group and no one will question its validity. For instance, if a certain Community A has the tradition of drinking soy sauce once a month, and everyone goes through the hassle of obeying the tradition, no one will question the tradition and will in fact embrace it as some sort of a unique charm of the community. But then if some of the community members chose not to obey the rules, while still parading themselves as members of the group but incessantly telling/ showcasing to others the triviality of that soy-sauce drinking tradition, outsiders will perceive Community A and its traditions as trivial, ridiculous and sometimes, 'oppressive towards individual's rights'. 

It is a hilarious paradox how some (including Muslims) perceives the Muslimahs who don't cover themselves properly as educated, modern and free; while the rest whose body is covered in modest clothes as slaves, uneducated, brainwashed, close-minded. 

What went wrong?

- Wallahualam

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim....

Imagine a female protagonist; an absolute beauty with auburn long mane and a flawless make-up, body wrapped tightly with the unusually super-tight, super-short, and supposedly super-expensive garment made to show her every curves. As she walks around in her 4-inch high stilettos, the soft satin that barely covers her thigh moves with her legs, casting shadows here and there, playing dirty tricks on the minds of those who are watching. 

An alpha male walks into the picture, grabbing her hand by force. He proclaims that she is his, and utters the ever so common 'Saya cintakan awak, kenapa awak tak cintakan saya? Saya boleh bagi awak cinta dan kekayaan ha ha ha' Then they get into an argument; the girl weeps and whines of her past love, while the man looks into her eyes and promises her the world. They embrace and look at each other lovingly. Start to hold hands, fingers intertwining in the most sensual way. Touch her face here and there. Jumps into each other's arms. XXXX

FIN.  


Hands down, this is real romantic even for a person who is as straightforward, and non-romantic as i am. I have no problem if this is a scene from a Korean/ Mandarin/ English dramas. I may even cry and cheer for the characters, as I often did.

However, if it's Malaysian? Malay? Muslim? 
WILL HAVE A LOT TO COMPLAIN.


I am not sorry if I sounded rude. I am deeply enraged and ashamed.

It disgusts me, and I'm seeing this scenario repeatedly in Malay Muslim dramas. Earlier tonight, actually. Don't stoop that low and sell me Muslim actresses in clothes fitting for a younger child, similar to kain balut nangka. Skirts are getting a bit shorter these days, as if people no longer has eyes to see what is there between your legs. The supposedly romantic scenes between the two leads become as nauseating as they can be; two steps away from having the actors kissing/ making out passionately on national television. Before a drama is broadcasted, the bed scenes becomes the first publicity article. We are now selling female actresses as sex objects; an ultra-innocent, angelic character scantily clad in the most horrifying skin-baring clothes you could ever find, wearing the same confused expression in each scenes. I find this idea amusing, did the scriptwriters watch too much porn? (YES I'd know)

Don't these people have conscience? Do they still remember that they're Muslims, mature adults and they have responsibilities over others e.g young children? Haven't we got other great stories to tell other than the usual, clichéd love stories?

I wonder what's next? Child pornography? Lolita?

Astaghfirullahhalazim.

 - Wallahualam

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim..

Death is a constant fear.
Sometimes I get confused if I am seeing signs of my imminent death and the angel Izrael is lurking nearby, or it's just that my iman (faith) is increasing, and it is reminding me that my deeds are not enough yet to be able to sustain me in the barzakh (afterworld). 

Sometimes after solat I sit for tens of minutes on the prayer mat and keep blocking thoughts about my own death, and past dreams and signs about it. I know for sure it's not the blues striking again, because this time the fear is massively intimidating. 

Death is a reminder.
I hope it's not the former and this is just me thinking too much, that this is my iman knocking my fumbling conscience back into the right path. And that this ticking bomb of a human isn't going to explode any soon. I've not done enough to face You, Ya Allah. Subhanallah.

Bismillahirahmanirrahim..


I'd like to be smarter and more diligent next semester. Phuu. I fear I may lose the secured consecutive spot on the List this semester due to a certain celebrated ungratefulness (always skipped the dinner parties like a brat), but next semester should be something else. Time management is key. Oy. 

Upon reaching the promising years of twentyhood, I fully realized now that I am really, most unfortunately, not talented in anything. I love to learn how to do everything but I have not mastered anything in particular. I have high respects for people who are really good with their hands in practical, they amaze me so much. Used to believe I have at least one talent, but that thought is getting real shaky due to the inability to produce any promising products out of the said talent for so many months now. 

However, I do believe that the only thing that kept me going the miles is my spirit. The high-spirited determination, relentless optimism, senseless bravado and the insatiable lust for knowledge make up for my hopeless lack of talent. Those four paved way for me to learn and experience lots of things, and succeed in fields I ventured in.

Abah always said that I resemble him in a way that he is called jack of all trades, but master of none. But I know what he's good at, and he's a master at it. I've found my niche, I just prayed that I'd be good at it like how Abah is. 

I believe in hardwork, and working towards a certain goal by one's own means. I also have the belief that a person makes his/her own standards of achievement - and that perhaps it would be better for one to do his best and compete with one's own  achievements, than to fall to other's standards and be forever plagued by the fact that there will always be someone better. However, there is no excuse for low standards when talking about being a fully-functioning society member!

A piece of precious advice from a previous employer, Miss Karen: Learn things, as much as you can, while you still can! There's always room for improvement, and perhaps at the end of it all you'll find contentment. You may not be the prettiest most celebrated piece of the cake, but you can be whole. Be a wholesome person.


- wallahualam