Musafir Biru

bismillah. 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. Fear. 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 dis...

bismillah. 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. Tiada. 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 menj...

bismillah. 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. Literally. 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...

bismillah. I sat alone in this strange room, feeling empty. I spent a couple of prayers before trying to cry, but I still couldn't. My heart is stoned. So, I stepped outside in the sun, walking alone. I was hesitant at first, because I don't know if I can do it. For a few years now I have been accustomed to wearing larger clothes. But I outgrew most of my clothes, they shrunk. What I had currently on is a green used-to-be over-sized long sleeved tee, with brown pants which I shouldn't wear anymore. I put on my shoes, no socks, and kept walking. I was testing myself on a thought I had in mind. Did I lose my heart? Five steps out, I almost cried. I looked down, and convinced myself, "I shouldn't go out like this!" I felt, stripped down. I felt like I was naked. But I kept on walking. The fact that I feel so naked made me so grateful. I still have my heart. Alhamdulillah. I long have left t...

S udah hampir setengah jam aku berdiri di bawah pancuran air di bilik mandi ini. Terasa kosong dan sepi. Sunyi. Jemariku sudah kelihatan seperti seorang pakcik tua, gayanya. Berkedut. Tapi segalanya terasa begitu kering. Aku mendongak membiarkan air membasahi wajahku, seperti aku di bawah limpahan hujan. Setelah beberapa ketika, aku menundukkan kepalaku semula, tangan di dinding, seolah menahannya dari menghempapku. Mindaku berlegar ke perbualan semalam. "Yo, bro. Nak baldi ke buat tadah air liur kau tu?"  Saiful menyapaku saat aku leka memerhati dia. Aliya. Aku mengikat semula rambutku agar tampak lebih kemas, dan menyarung 'beanie' unguku. "Hensem tak aku?" Saiful memuncung. "I don't think so, dude. No," sambil menggeleng kepala. "Whaaaat?" "Serius lah. Perempuan macam tu, mana pandang orang macam kita?" "Apa? Gelandangan?" sambil tersengih besar. "Well, for one, yes. Dahlah. Kau ni, la...

bismillah. It has been some time that I haven't been able to really open up and express my feelings. There were always factors that I needed to evaluate before doing so. Factors which, in the end, prevented me from even saying what's in my head. I know, Muslims should be strong. And that we can't give up on the tests Allah laid out in our path. And that no matter how hard our journey is, there are always others who endured a far worse day. I know that. Seeing how my brothers and sisters struggling for freedom each day, not even sure if tomorrow there will be a roof atop their heads, or they will see tomorrow's sunrise, or if they will be food on the table, or if the head count in the next five minutes will be the same as before. Everything is unsure, yet they are happy to fight for their rights. Subhanallah! Not even a whine from anyone . Be yet kids, or old ones. None. #FreeSyria #FreePalestine hand-sown flags at my house. yeay! How people wh...

bismillah. Speak good or remain silent. [HR Bukhari & Muslim] I used to talk a lot back in my school years. I mean, A LOT! I was the crazy, old, non-stop talking bird who was known for a wide range of rants. I couldn't stop jibber-jabber-ing. I was the 'twitter'. (pun intended) I don't think I had ever quite shut up except when crying and sleeping. And in history classes (I usually sleep during that time). And my so-called talkativeness got worse when I started yapping about my past to my beloved teacher whom I now call as a friend. So, being able to talk was my, how do you say it.. superpower. Back then, I was the one always wanting to say whatever that my mind wanted me to say. Sometimes rational. Most of the time, not so much. I got banned by some of the guys when I was a senior cause I was, apparently, "too outspoken". Irony. Now I don't even talk. Not to my family. Not to friends. Not anyone. Le bird, h...

bismillah. It's been a while since I came back to my college. So, last week, I took the liberty to finally go there to volunteer for my juniors' conference. I had butterflies swarming in my stomach, and I had a hard time convincing myself to go. Finally, at 12.15 pm, I got out of the house, into the car, and headed to the highway. In my mind, there was a lot of things going on, and I wasn't focusing on the road at all. I was supposed to spend the night there, cause I volunteered on the next day, too. But I didn't want to. I refused to. I couldn't. These past 4 months, I've messed myself up. It was easier before, because people won't see me. But, now that I'm going back, I don't know how to confront them. I was scared. I was scared to talk. Scared to reconnect. Scared to even do anything. That 40 minute drive, I imagined all kinds of scenarios I will put up. I'm gonna arrive at the college, pray and  then sleep. And at 3 pm, I...

bismillah. Ehem.. I was writing a whole lot of stuffs before as the beginning of this post. But I'm afraid I might regret publishing those words. So, I'm cutting it short. I was reminiscing about an old man I met some time ago. I met him one day, when I was going to the night market. We were 6 feet away from each other, waiting at the side of the road, to cross. We didn't talk. Well, I didn't. Because I was too afraid to open my mouth. He was an old man. And I was supposed to help him cross the road. I am not used to watching both sides before crossing the road. That's not me. I was putting my feet on the road, and I caught a glimpse of him. He was raising his hands, and shaking his head, saying 'no'. I drew my feet away, moved closer to him. But I didn't said a word. Not even offered my help. And he was just standing there. Even when the coast is clear, he didn't cross. Later on, I made my move. I was walking, and turned back. ...

bismillah. It's a wonderful day. Today is the day I get my A-Level results. Yippie!   It is however, due to my psychicness, that I won't carve a smile on my parents face. Had that feeling in my gut since July. It's a feeling of, discomfort. And nothing can shake it off. I'd like to say a lot here. About what happened to me since that particular July. But I'd end up whining things I shouldn't. Better save it for someone better to listen to. And to not-my-surprise, my results were under par. And I am not sad. At all. Well, maybe a little, but no mental breakdown whatsoever. This, however, never happened to me. I never went into an exam, and NOT pass. Never. Not the UPSR. Not PMR. Not SPM. *not trying to boast here* And this is the first. And I gotta tell ya. It doesn't hurt so bad. I've seen many of my friends went nuts and cry a lot after their results didn't come out as good as others. And I didn't know what to do, th...

bismillah. Wow! It's almost two months I've been in the holiday mode. And so far, I have been doing nothing. I haven't worked (well, not a REAL job that is), I haven't finish my hafazan, I haven't finish reading my books. Absolutely a non-satisfying holiday. I know, I am to blame. Just say it. I've been having a condition where I am unable to implement what I wanna do at the time and place I want. Well, some call it excuse. Some may call it laziness. To be honest, I have to agree. I'm at the point where I am too sensitive of things. I can't be scolded. I can't be taunted. I can't be laughed at. (wait, I ALWAYS experience this!) To tell ya the truth, I am sick of myself. Sick of not doing anything. I tried to change, but all was the same. This reminded me of a time, when I was still in college. One day, as I was going to class and passed my friends' apartment, she said to me (out loud) Eh, muka kau berseri-seri la! ...

bismillah. I was writing about something else, but came across this video as I was browsing my facebook. And I just HAD to post it. What's important is not his name, but his story. I cried. It's been days, in fact, weeks, since I last cried. It worries me, that all these while I've been pulling strings to memorise the Quran, I was too distracted to see that I have been losing time to REALLY understand the Quran. My memory weakens by the hour, yet I did nothing to try and make the aayahs and verses stick to my heart. Nothing. And this boy, sacrificed his time, to learn the Quran by heart. And what touched me most, is the reason why he did not want Allah to give back his sight. Now, what's MY excuse?

bismillah. I was on my way home last night. The bus arrived at the station at about 9 pm, and my brother and I headed to the train heading home. We took two trains to get to our housing area, and by the time we got into the second train, I saw a sight that caught my attention. I saw two mute girls 'talking' to each other. Ignore the picture. * giggle They were standing at the middle of the coach, and I was at the end. It was interesting, and brought back some memories. I used to have a great friend. She's mute. So is her other 4 siblings. Both her parents and two other siblings are normal. I can't quite recall on when our friendship started, but I sure remember when it ended. It was when we were still in primary school. We go to different schools, nothing in common. But a friend of mine was her cousin. So, whenever we spent time playing, she would come by sometimes. Until one day, I finally asked my friend to introduce us. Cause I have NO id...

bismillah. tadi baru terbaca note 'pendek' yang sister saya hadiahkan kat desktop saya beberapa bulan lepas. dah lama jugak saya hidekan note tu. sebak setiap kali baca. sister saya pesan dalam note tu.. awak,untuk kite terus tsabat ats jalan nie, kite kne ade satu matlamat yg mampu menguatkn kite kalau satu hari nnt kite tak kuat..awak,kalau ada mslh,share la..jgn simpan sorg2 sbb apa gune Allah kurniakn kite akhwat..kite bukannye setakat buat kerja sama2 tapi semua benda sama2 termasuk lah maslah study ke apa ke...takkn lah kite share psl dkwah je..padahal dkwh tu kn kehidupan...awk kne ade trust pada anak2 buah awk klu awk nk diorg thiqah ngn awk.. em, masa dia bagi saya note ni, saya dan buah hati sedang berprogram. dia dari jauh datang untuk jenguk kami buat kerja. * so shweet well, thing about THIS particular part of the note is that she insisted that I open up to my buah hati. I have no problem about that at all. I thought, yeah I can do that. If t...

bismillah. fuhh~ berhabuk lagi page ini. konon sibuk huhuu. okay, disebabkan buat masa ni, blog ini adalah medium saya untuk berbicara dan umm..say what i need, saya nak teruskan menulis lah. biarlah tiada pembaca sekalipun, tapi saya usaha kan? YOSH! and I am making a comeback withhhhh... UKHUWWAH LEMAU *applause please Entah dikira comeback atau tak. But I gotta say this. I just have to. Maybe tak bombastik, tapi I HAVE TO. *okay. quit fooling around. You know, bila kita get back to our senses, mula kenal Allah balik, the feeling was.. ahh~ what you call it? INTENSE Yeah, I guess it fits. Intense. Ia adalah perasaan di mana anda jatuh cinta kembali. Segalanya yang anda pandang, rasa, bau, pijak.. semuanya ada rasa cinta tu. Membuai anda hingga jatuh ke dalam lembah cinta Ilahi yang tak berpenghujung. (wah!) I AM NOT KIDDING. Try have a bite off da'wa & tarbiyyah, and you WILL experience this. Ini bukan rasa cinta yang dicipta untuk oran...