With Me

Thursday, July 10

Take Me Back.


It's been a while since I've been here. I didn't feel worthy enough to write again. But I promised myself that I won't quit.
I browsed through my old facebook notes. And this is a particularly sad one, because I've been in the same circle for years, never learning my lesson.

I am hoping by posting this, I myself am reminded. So, here goes.

"Take Me Back"

28 September 2012 at 00:44

I'm walking into this room again. It's half full, but I am so alone. I can almost hear my heart thumping, as I tried so hard to hide how its beats were playing the notes I don't want people to ever hear.


I'm scared to face you again here. The place where solace was so near, I could dream forever. I'm scared, because it has been long. I have been constantly leaving you. Giving excuses to myself, that by leaving I was actually finding myself.

Lie. A big fat lie.

The world has put a big blob of disappointment in my life these past couple of weeks. And I got tired. Tired of facing it alone. Tired of keeping the hopes, that it will all be better tomorrow. Or someday.

I guess I wasn't patient enough to wait. So I let it fall and tumble. All the time spent rebuilding myself from the debris of my early years, came crashing down like bricks from the walls. One by one, leaving a hole in it. And I became empty once more.

It took me long enough to finally realise that I wasnt looking for myself. I was running away from my own self.

And I got lost.

When I tracked my way back, I find myself.. following my footsteps.. back to this place.

Back to you.

I was too busy making excuses, when I should've gone building competence. I shouldn't have let myself drown in these mixed emotions. And I definitely shouldn't have gone off leaving you.

And so today, I'm here again. Sitting, placing my plams open up to my chest, I can feel hot tears streaming down my face.

"Allah, I'm so sorry"

Repeated, I solemnly had my forehead down on the ground. And I feel much closer. Much, much closer to you.

The pain is excruciating, as I was forcing myself to sob in silence. Where no one else would hear me, but you.

And I hear you whisper, "I'm here,"

And the pain went away.
Leaving me, and my heart void again.
Only to be filled with your love.

Your love, O' Allah.

Tuesday, January 21

My First "What are You Wearing" Conversation


Alhamdulillah, I am in my second week of the semester. All praises be to Him, to whom I owe my life, every single bit of tears and scars and smiles. Who provided me with the necessities, and gave me the presence of Islam to help me along the way.

So this week, I got to meet some new...classmates. One of the new girls was recruited into my rag-tag team of besties-who-apparently-make-great-assignment-partners. She is from mainland China.
Let's call her DJ.

So, DJ and I didn't talk at all during class. I was shy, and thought I needed some time before actually talking to her.
See, the chinese people around my campus talk using their mother tongue when they're around one another. That made bumping into conversation very unlikely. Though English is the first language here, well, when we meet people of our own, we tend to use our natural language, right?

Anyway, that was what happened between DJ and I.

Until late that evening, when we were to wait for a class, and my friend suggested that we go and finish our presentation slides to kill the time.
And there we were. Three gals of the supposedly five; me, YX and DJ. After spending more than half an hour in front of the computer; discussing, typing, discussing, editing etc., I finally made DJ smile.
And the conversation kicks into second gear.

The time was then almost 4 o'clock, so we headed to class. Only to find that it was postponed. So, because YX commutes from her home, she planned on heading straight home. Leaving me and DJ alone.

We talked from the block, passed the cafes and the halls to reach our hostels. And the conversation got to a point where we know roughly of the other person. The basic things.

There was still a few more blocks to get to her hostel (cause hers was closer. mine is at the end of the road), and then she suddenly asked me,
what is this you're wearing? (pointing at my hijaab)
I explained to her briefly what it was, and apparently she already know what it is and why I (ehem.. WE) wear it.

She knows that we have to cover our heads.
She knows that we can't show our hair to people other than our husband. (i added the info about family)
She knows that it's hard committing to donning it.
She knows.

So I took that short walk to tell her (not explain) about the basics of the hijaab. One thing she couldn't understand, is WHY WE DO IT?

I smiled.
My answer was simple. Because God tells us to.

I didn't know whether it was sufficient, because I never ever had a REAL religion-related chats with a non-Muslim.
But that answer was enough to make her ponder.

And I ask that small voice inside of me.

Did I make the right move?
Did I say the right thing?
Should I say more?

But I stopped myself.
I realised that the conversation, the questions, and the answers were exactly the way Allah planned it to be.

This was my first chat. It was supposed to be flawed. So that I would learn, and do better should it come up again.
Allah made it that way.

And I remembered my himmah moments back in college.
I was eager to spread His words.
Because surrounding me, were Muslim kids like me, too.

Everyday I wondered.
Why do I feel so alone here?
People are everywhere, but I am isolated, still.
Then. I realised, that a da'i could be thrown away, alone and cast away to an unknown land, but Islam can still bloom like a wild flower thrown into the desert sand.

I kept waiting for the boat to come and save me.
[ credit ]
But I forgot that the boat won't come unless I work hard in getting it to come rescue me.
Or that I was supposed to stay and plant the seeds.

I had to make a choice. Between leaving or doing something.
I have to.
Hard as it is, it is not impossible.

I gave up once, and now there's turmoil inside me. For the demons residing inside won't let the light come in again. I am throwing tantrums and becoming less patient.
I wanna make it through.
Because the road to Jannah, following the path of da'wa, is not for sissies or chicken-heads.

It is for the mujaheeds.

Friday, November 1

Aku, Masulah yang Gagal


Masa aku masih muda remaja,
aku sering mengimpikan,
andai ada ruang dan waktu untuk aku duduk di depan,
menjadi jeneral dalam perjuangan,
menyusun langkah gerombolan amukan atas pentas peperangan,
aku mahu.
Aku mahu.

Hantarkan aku ke tengah medan menggila,
bersama anjing-anjing yang butakan matanya,
bersama pedang tumpul mencucuh api,
menghantar gentar dalam dada yang meneliti,
aku bisa.
Aku bisa.

Masa aku masih naif tentang realiti dunia,
aku penuhi mataku dengan angan,
yang batil akan lenyap dengan tiupan kencang kebencianku,
hingga aku terlupa,
yang terisi hanyalah impian cuma,
tiada apa.

Saat kenal tarbiyyah,
aku ditampar dan dipukul,
diuji dengan angan yang aku bina,
tapi tak pernah terlaksana.

Aku menjadi masulah.

Saat kegagalan bertimpa-timpa,
aku teruskan saja melangkah,
membiarkan masalah membusuk,
hingga akhirnya rosak segala.

Yang telah dibina bertahun sebelumnya,
yang sudah kukuh menjulang namaNya,
hancur sekelip cuma.

Maka kini aku jadi takut,
bergerak atas janji yang 'Akulah Sang Pemimpin yang Dicari',
kerana saat ghulam menyusup dalam diri,
aku. menjadi bukan aku.

Mengharapkan hebat dari Allah,
tapi terlupa,
ia tak datang tanpa usaha.

Mengharapkan petunjuk dariNya,
tapi leka,
tanpa doa.

Dan kini aku duduk terdiam,
berteleku dalam suram,

mampukah aku dimaafkan?

Saturday, September 28

Cloud Nine


You know how we get all giddy when a crush of ours actually notices us? Or when we get attention from someone we're dying to meet? Or when our parents grants us what we desires most? And after the encounter, we smiled all day, even in public and people thought we were insane? And you feel you just got swept off your feet and felt like flying?

That just happened to me.

I was literally, swept off my feet.

I was going to a replacement class early in the morning a few days before. I was trying to walk stronger by the day, because I realized there was no point shutting down forever.

As I walked alone under the sun, and reciting my morning supplement of ma'thurat, my vision was a bit troubled, so I put my glasses away. And there I was, alone on the road. And then, a car pulled over to my right. The driver, a woman, told me to get in. As an almost extreme introvert, I was reluctant to do so.

Remember those TV shows where kids says, "Mommy doesn't let me talk to strangers"?

That was what went through my mind. But she was hijabbed, so I had a strong sense of trust on that. [note to future kidnappers *woot*woot* ]

So I went inside her car. I couldn't see her face clearly because I hadn't put my glasses on, but I could see her smile. It was convincing, and comforting. I had a hard time around Malay Muslims, because there was a huge gap. We never exchanged salaams, or even smiles. Even if I offered one.

Anyways, that driver who introduced herself and told me she was a staff there, changed and shifted my insecurities. She told me beforehand that she could only send my up until the cafeteria, cause she was running late and needed to have a rushed breakfast.

And you know what's sweeter?

She asked me to join her, and offered to pay for it.

Here we were, two previously-unmet strangers, and she reached far for a hand in friendship. I declined, because I was running late, too. She said that she hoped to meet up again. And we parted.

I walked away when I stepped out of her car, and I smiled all the way until I stepped in class. And that feeling of giddiness stayed all day.

The blessings of getting warmth from someone was a gift from Allah. A very, very sweet gift. And the silver lining is shining brighter, and despite feeling grateful, I was somewhat ashamed.

I don't deserve these.
Any of it.

Deserving is when you actually do things that corresponds to the value of the things you get in return.

For what I have; my decreasing, yet still good health, great circle of friends, a loving family, a blessed education path, I sincerely don't deserve any of it.

But here's the sweetest part.
And I'm guessing all of you already know this.
Allah gives, without greed.
I had an argument with a friend one day. She said that 'life is unfair. God is, but life is not'.

For all the ups and downs I have all my life, of course I disagreed. My counter-argument was, 'life, is always fair. It's all about your perspective'. And I added that, my glass is always half full.
Okay, maybe I was naive, but I was constantly emphasized on the fact that Allah NEVER gives us more than we can face, or what we deserved.

Regardless of my flaws, Allah still gave me much to hold on to. And I can never repay all of this.
But He gave. Still.

So, everyday, before I sleep, no matter how hard my day was, I would picture a life of perfection and love in between my supplications.

Because, in the end,
laa yukallifullahu nafsan ILLA wus'aha

Thank You, my love.
For everything.

Tuesday, September 24

Sweet Surprise


So last Thursday, I was in class. And then I got a text, a Whatsapp message to be exact, from my sister in India. My dear lecturer back in college was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.

It was 10.00 am. My first class of the day had just started. There I was, in the middle of the class, in between classmates, trembling... holding up my tears... I lost my focus and everything that my lecturer said , taught and did in front of the class, was gone like the wind. Even the events of the force-me-to-eat-tomato that traumatized some of my classmates was nearly forgotten.

I was lost.
I couldn't deal with it.

Nothing like this has ever happened to me.

Okay, that got out wrong.

No close relative of mine has ever been admitted to the hospital for days and then diagnosed with a possible terminal illness.

I was shocked.
I have no clue as of what to do, how to react, and so I did what I do best under these circumstances.

Shut down.

I know, I shouldn't make it about me. I was supposed to be strong, because my lecturer wouldn't want me to feel sorry. I was told so when my lecturer told me of what went wrong a few weeks back.

But, heck yeah, I made it about me anyways.

I even lost myself in my maths test that very same day.

I was silent the whole day, and I was fortunate enough to have friends who tried to cheer me up.

Everything was temporary.
And that fact never hit me so near to home.

I tried everything to be strong in case I decided to come and visit, but to no avail.

But then last weekend, I did some long pondering. And I found it.

That glimmer of hope.
I finally reconnected with Allah. After being detached for some time, wallahi, alhamdulillah I finally found a way back.

And I felt stronger. And I kinda felt the strength my lecturer had when the news got out.
A new breeze.

I will make a call, and maybe a visit to my lecturer.
I wanna be there alongside my lecturer's struggles and tests.
I want to.

Everything seemed clearer, and a silver lining will come along, I'm sure of it.
Allah never breaks any of His promises.
Allah never lets us down.

Today, in class, my lecturer (another subject) came up with a question.
What do you believe in?
 I can't, for the love of Allah, remember what the previous discussion was about.

And my lecturer asked that question to a guy sitting in front of me.
He is from China.

And I can almost swear I heard him say, "Allah".
It sounded a bit weird in his accent, but I can almost hear it.

I smiled all through class (except the part where I slept, a bit) because I thought he really said it. And I make up this whole scenario where I confronted him for the truth, whether or not he really said it.

[I have a thing for guys who openly admit they love Allah. Because living in an international university, I can never decide who's who. If I can't even tell whether a girl is a Muslim or not, let alone a guy. So, yeah] Opps.

Everything is starting to stand a little firmer.
A little taller.
A little wiser.

Allah will guide you to a sea of His love. And before you reach the beach,

NEVER stop walking.

this is a dedication for my dear lecturer. hoping that this reach my lecturer's eyes, though not beautiful. thought that i'd share how i felt, in my own words, my own ways.

In case it does, my lecturer, I want you to know, I love you. And you will be in my prayers. Forever. No matter how, or when, this road ends.
In His arms.

[I remember now. The discussion we had. My lecturer posed a question, "Which do you believe? Creation, or evolution? *insert conversation with chinese guy here*]