To the one who passed away...

He was on number 2 in my entry I posted a few months ago.
He was Mr. I.
He was the one I stalked for three years, starting when I was in form three, going on until form five. Never wavered direction.
He was the one who made me smile by just having caught a glimpse of him in that red van on our way back from school.
He was the one who made me smile throughout the day by just having caught a glimpse of him anytime during school.
He was the one I dedicated a few girly poems to.
He was, basically, my first taste I had at having a crush on somebody.
He was, really, my first taste I had at having my heart broken (or so, I thought) when he ignored me. But, I realize now, he just didn’t want to give me false hope.
He’s gone now, though. My best friend just broke the news to me this morning. Accident. He’s been in coma for almost two weeks, she told me, and today, finally, he slipped away. On the blessed day of Friday. During the blessed month of Ramadhan. May Allah bless his soul.
Hearing this news, it was shocking, but somehow, the first thing that came to mind at that time this morning was that I’m glad I parted in good term with him.
You see, he ignored me back at school, but when I was in my first year in college, he suddenly contacted me. The usual exchange of greetings, him asking me how I was doing, but then I remembered his last message to me. He told me to be in touch with him, whenever I needed a good friend to talk to and at that time I felt he was sincere. I knew I found a good friend in him. I didn’t contact him since then, because I moved on, but that was one of the nicest things anyone ever said to me. And I remember that again, today. With tears in my eyes.
It was shocking, him being gone. I could only imagine how his wife and family are feeling right now. He was a good man. They are lucky they got to know him more than I had. I only wish I could tell them that.
And today also, I found this hadith:
Abu Hurraira reported that the Messenger of Allah (may Allah bless him and grant him peace) said, "Remember frequently the thing that cuts off pleasures," i.e. death." [Tirmidhi].
We remember those who passed away and we should also remember our time will come too, one day. Cherish every day you have as long as you’re breathing and find ways to do good, to gain His blessings. And pray that He will forgive us and those whom we love.
Ya Allah, bless our friend’s soul, please forgive his sins and rest him in peace with those whom You love. Ameen.

Happy Birthday to... me... :)

well, it's 1st september. i'm 26 today. or technically i'll be in another 10 minutes. at 8.13pm. just after maghrib and before isyak, like my mother used to say. kinda easy to remember, since it's the day after Malaysia's Independence Day. heh. my mom used to tell me that she did go to the clinic on the merdeka day, hoping I would be a merdeka baby, but i refused to come out that day 26 years ago and chose to come out the next day, 1st september, instead. hehe. even then, i was already showing my stubbornness. before i was even born! talk about capital D for Degil, hehe. anyway, i was born on a saturday, but i forgot where i put the date of my birthday on Hijrah calendar. i have it somewhere, i really do... somewhere...
anyway, I'm 26 today.
26. bye bye 25, hello 26. kinda creepily, freakingly, scarily close to 30, don't you think? but then, to quote my brother's wish for my birthday today, 'it's just a number, sis!'. yeah, okay, i feel so much better. (*rolling eyes*).
so, the thought that keeps nagging at the back of my mind about today is that i want to move on. there is going to be a lot of changes around me this coming days; change of head of department at work (erk! cuak!), change of responsibilities (me taking over a colleague's work at another department since she's taking maternity leave, erk! tak nak!), change of my perspective on life (er... tu... that needs a whole new entry to elaborate), change of my aim in life (another entry, obviously... *rolling eyes again*), change of er... me? yeah, i'm changing. hopefully for the better. and hence, the moving on part.
because suddenly i feel restless. i feel like that flightless bird again. you know, you remember my old entry about that song from twilight soundtrack? yeah, yeah, another entry... never mind that.
anyway, i want to move on. seriously. i don't think i can handle a whole bunch of changes, all at the same time, coming right at me from every direction, which leaves me no way to dodge or duck or whatever. i want to run away. hah. escape. i want to escape from this seemingly suffocating environment. from here to somewhere out there. where? God knows where. i don't. not yet, anyway.
i'm getting tired of routines, again. so, yeah, i'll be having new types of work to do, but then, maybe, i'm getting tired of the environment too. i've been visiting places, and i like doing that. i've seen what's out there and i'd like to explore more. it has become my addiction, not just for the sake of travelling and taking photographs at other people's places, but most part of it is because of what i learnt from these places. what i felt when i was there. it's a mixed of awe, gratitude, admiration, and pure happiness. it's a feeling you don't get so easily.
i want to move on from what i'm doing now. i'm exhausted. i'm getting tired of it. i want to do something different. totally different. something fresh, new, exciting, creative and doesn't require my 8am to 5pm commitment everyday. every week day, i mean. still, it's tiring. i think i'm not fit for an office job. duh!
i want to move on from past life. forget the memories. the good and the bad ones. hah. yeah. you're asking me the big question, WHY? again, because i'm getting tired of remembering them and knowing i'm the only one who does. the rest of us have moved on. have new life. better ones too. and it hurts knowing that i'm stuck here with old memories keep replaying and replaying and replaying in my head. it's like i'm the old recording video tape stuck in a vcr, while the rest of you move on to blue-ray dvds. okay, not getting what i'm trying to say? just ignore it. or just picture this. i'm walking in circles (chester bennington and the cover album for the dead by sunrise is flashing in my mind right now) going round and round and round, making a perfect circle while the rest of you go crazy with all the shapes in various sizes available on this planet. still not getting what i'm trying to say? uk-uh, sorry, but, you're kinda slow... okay, ripping off all the metaphors, i'm sick of having no direction to go from here. i want to go somewhere. get out of the circle. get out of the vcr. okay, sorry, here i go with the metaphors again. moving on...
i want to move on from my head. no, i'm not cutting it off (gila ke hapa?!) all those metaphors create havoc with your imagination, ey? heh. what i mean is i want to move on from these useless, empty thoughts in my head. i want to move on from empty dreams. i'm sick and tired of it. i want to move on, create new dreams, real dreams, dreams that are achievable. dreams that will mean something. dreams that are worth dreaming, because it can come true. not easy to do, when 'berangan' is like breathing to me. it's there with me every second of every day. it's like i can't live if i don't berangan, duh!
seriously. you didn't see this coming when reading that pretty much innocent title of this entry, did you? sorry.
i don't know what's wrong with me these days. maybe i'm maturing up and realising that there is a lot more out there to be discovered and i want to do that. maybe i'm just feeling restless again and need desperately to just get out, to become flighty bird, not flightless one. maybe i'm just fed-up with myself, for the lack of ideas when they used to be so many before. maybe because i'm turning 26 and that number, despite what my brother said, scared me to death. i'm turning 26, today, exactly today, and i'm still here. not going anywhere. here.
all in all, reading all this back, i scold myself. i mean, come on. i should be grateful i'm still alive, shouldn't i? i should be grateful i'm still living and breathing and even, please God, don't make me do this anymore, 'berangan'ing... whoa, new vocab for you there... seriously, i'm luckier than some people will ever be... i'm lucky i can still celebrate my birthday today, here, berating you with all these nonsenses of moving on.
well, i'm moving on from that. :)
i'm not deleting all those words i've written. somehow, it helps to know that now you know how imperfect i am. i can be angry at things, at people, at circumstances, and suddenly after a while, with God's help, i realize how stupid it is to be angry. how ungrateful. and i never want to be that. ever. honest.
so, now, i'm taking it positively. one step at a time, though.
Alhamdulillah, it's 1st september today.
Alhamdulillah, i'm turning 26 today.
Alhamdulillah, i'm still here, breathing calmly, with my blocked nose slowly recovering (i caught the flu last two days, but i'm much better now. :))
Alhamdulillah, i can still write in here, telling you honestly about what i feel, what i think, what i want. although jumbled up with emotion, but then that's how the message needs to get across, right? with a little dose of feeling. :)
Alhamdulillah, i'm moving on from my anger and hopefully will be moving on from more negative thoughts, negative feelings towards positivity, Allah willing.
all in all, i'm celebrating my birthday by moving on. towards something better. whatever it is. He knows. He'll help. insya Allah. pray for me, will you? it's the best present anyone could ever get for their birthday, a sincere prayer. thank you. :)

not in a good mood...

when i was not in a good mood, i used to:
1. listen to songs BLASTING in both my ears with the highest volume my walkman could provide, shutting up the outer world completely. choices of songs varied, mostly the most depressing, dark and gothic types i could get my hands on, ranging from linkin park, nirvana to evanescence.
2. slam the door, HARD. and i didn't give a damn whose face was disfigured in the process.
3. slam things. anything. be it books, handphone, cds, cd player, whatever. anything i could get my hands on. and i didn't give a damn if it broke, either.
4. curse. BADLY. shit was the constant profanity, hell was the second mostly said. sometimes it went bad enough to f%^k. and my trademark curse to a person (my best friends knew this) was 'tengkorak hidup kau berjambul!' hah!
5. speed. be it power-jogging or speed-driving. i guess the adrenaline rush kept my head straight and my mood thus improved.
6. look at people blankly. be it a person closest to me. i could make the coldest expression on my face and tuned out whatever the person was saying completely.
7. sleep. with the said depressing, dark and gothic songs blasting in my ears. and sometimes with angry tears on my cheeks.
8. talk to my teddy. poured my heart out to it. because for the sole reason that it could not exactly respond. because i was afraid if i unleashed it all out on people, they wouldn't give me the feedback i wanted. and i would be dissappointed. and thus my mood would not improve.
9. cry in the bathroom or toilet. i would feel very much better afterwards.
10. sing out loud to whatever chester was screaming about. and laugh at myself for being THAT silly.
11. daydream. went into my fantasy world, my sole escape once upon a time. but, when i woke up from it, i did not feel any better. because i knew right then and there that it was just a dream, and thus wouldn't happen and i only ended up getting angrier with myself.
12. write in my private journals. or write a few depressing poems or lyrics. felt a bit better reading it all back there soon after that. relieved, maybe. but, after a while, when i read it all back later, it only made me feel sorry for myself. and that didn't improve anything.

now, when i'm not in a good mood, i:
1. fall silent. keep quiet. so quiet that people around me will worry.
2. recite the tafsir. definitely the best balm for the sore heart, i would say. surah like al-Insyirah (Alam Nasyrah), ad-Dhuha, ar-Rahman, al-Mulk, al-Waaqiah really can make you feel grateful and small. small in this world that He created. and cry a good tear or two or more. but, when i'm feeling bad and i can not do this (because of my monthly cycle) i will feel even worse with myself. i will miss the verses. :( have to teach myself to multiply zikr, i guess.
3. try reading. don't get me wrong, reading has always been my passion, but not when i was in a bad mood. i try to do it now when i'm not feeling so good with myself. depends on what books i read, it actually helps. i feel much better after that.
4. listen to good islamic music. nasheed, mostly. lagu-lagu ketuhanan. soothe my ears and my mind and my heart. make me cry a good tear or two or more too.
5. smile. suspiciously a fake one. but, somehow, when the lips stretch along my face to form that particular expression, i will automatically feel a bit better inside. it just does. to me, anyway. so fake or not, i'll do it.
6. sleep. notice that i HAVE mentioned this above. and still with the songs blaring in my ears. but maybe, not the depressing, dark and gothic ones anymore. but sometimes, still with the tears running down my cheeks.
7. write. notice that i HAVE mentioned this above. i try to write inspirational poems, lyrics, stories, though, no more depressing ones.
8. talk to my teddy. notice that i HAVE mentioned this above. i know it cannot respond, but somehow seeing that cute face just make it better, whatever it is.
9. sing out loud to whatever it is on radio or in the cd player. especially when i'm in the car. and laughingly shaking my head at the silliness of it. notice that i HAVE mentioned this above.
10. cry in the bathroom or toilet. notice painfully that i HAVE mentioned this above. i just can't help it.
11. daydream. notice that i HAVE mentioned this above. and i hate myself for it. i really want to stop this, but i just can't help where my mind wander to sometimes or most of the time. my mind has a mind of its own, without me controlling it. hah. is that possible? or is it just plain crazy and ridiculous? heh...
anyway, PLEASE NOTE how many time i quote 'notice that i HAVE mentioned this above'. because most of the methods do not differ much from when i used to be and where i am right now. i still cry, i still talk to my teddy, i still daydream, i still try to break a hole in my eardrums with the highest volume of anything i feel like listening, however i hate doing those and however i try to get rid of them. however i try to just depend on the holy verses, these habits won't go away. they just FRUSTRATINGLY won't. hm...
well, there's a saying anyway, right?
old habits die hard, eh?
you know what? i think whoever that came with that saying, 'old habits die hard' should be given a nobel laureate or a nobel prize, whatever, because that is quite a SAYING. if you know what i mean.

my problem is.... oh no.. my problemS ARE...

my problems are:
1. i don't know how to tell people my problem.
2. i don't give a damn about how i look.
3. i don't give a damn about what other people think or feel about me (until recently).
4. i get easily bored, be it with people, things, the net, monotonous empty conversations (with only a few exceptions, the things and people i doubt i'll ever be bored with: good insightful lyric and beautiful music, my family, my best friends, linkin park and good novels).
5. i don't know how to show or tell my best friends how i miss them.
6. i don't know how to show or tell my best friends how i love them.
7. i don't know how to show or tell my family i love them.
8. i don't know how to show or tell anything at all.
9. i am suddenly at the dead end of a journey and i don't know where i'm heading next.
10. it's been a while since ideas flown in every morning and every night.
11. it's been a while since i can smile sincerely from my heart.
12. it's been a while since i stop cursing and i feel like doing it again.
13. it's been a while since i look forward to something and now there's nothing worth looking for.
14. it's been a while since i last wrote in here, hah!
15. i hate the shower at home with it's teeny, tiny, trickle of water. what's the use of having three bathrooms when u can only use one at one given time?
16. i hate not being able to speak up.
17. i hate feeling angry inside and can only unleash it out with tears.
18. i hate the cramping pain in my gut whenever my monthly flux is due and when i'm too sad i can't even sob. and then, the cramps worsen.
19. i hate the fact that i can't say what i really feel. i can only think it.
20. i hate the fact that i'm feeling all sorts of emotions right now and the only thing i can show is a fake smile.
21. i hate bad thoughts i'm having in my mind right now.
22. i hate the fact that i'm slowly losing trust in men.
23. i hate the fact that i'm slowly losing trust in marriage institution.
24. i hate the fact that i'm slowly losing trust in love.
25. i hate being scared.
26. i'm scared of today's world with its abuse cases, throwing babies around, frolicking around, endless war, bad politics. you name it.
27. i'm scared of men.
28. i'm scared of love and lost.
29. i'm scared of not being able to set everything right.
30. i'm scared of this burden suddenly feels so heavy on my shoulders, even though i shouldn't have to carry it alone.
31. i'm scared of time. of it ticking away and i'm still here, doing practically nothing. unmoving.
32. i'm scared of you reading this and frowning your forehead and thinking what-the-heck-is-this-girl-trying-to-say and logging off.
33. i'm scared of relapse. me relapsing into who i used to be. tak nak dah, please, ya Tuhan.
34. i'm scared of you knowing all this about me and doubting me, thinking gile-ke-hapa-budak-ni?
35. i'm scared of me. of me writing this all out. of me risking hatred from you. of me telling you these problems that keep bothering my mind when i've said at number 1 that i don't know how to tell people my problems.
36. actually, i'm not telling my problems at all, am i? i haven't yet contradicted number 1 since i don't tell you in details yet what this is all about. because i don't even know what this is all about.
37. my problem number 37: i think i'm going crazy.
38. i think my hormones are going grazy.
39. i think this is a crazy entry. i could always delete it. forget it. babai it. be gone with it! (that was a line from natalie portman in the other boleyn girl) but then, here comes problem number 40: I DON'T WANT TO.
the end
p/s not the end of the problems. since life has never been without problems. it's just the end of this entry.
the end

things that remind me of YOU...

1. YOU
~ scars on my knees. :)
~ my over-teasing brother
~ your name
2. YOU
~ awkward smiles
~ SMKSS
~ the subject lukisan kejuruteraan
~ torn pictures. :)
3. YOU
~ baju kurung
~ the subject math
~ tuition class
4. YOU
~ ten cent coin and any mention of it in terengganu dialect. :)
~ long fingers
~ prank calls
~ matrix
5. YOU
~ your famous mother. heh.
6. YOU
~ the color red
~ konvo robe
~ Hospital Selayang cafeteria
7. YOU
~ avril lavigne's keep holding on. because it's the song u successfully downloaded for me. thanx! :)
~ the word 'thank you'. you know why. heh.
~ KLIA
~ the word 'mek comey'. :P
~ HTAR library
~ HTAR psychiatric ward
8. YOU
~ TDM, always! ;)
~ TPN
~ extended hours
~ ICU
~ the sixth floor corridor at HSNZ, the one facing the ocean. because i'll always remember how we walked through it so late in the evening to distribute the results to the wards, looking in awe at the lovely view of the beach. :)
~ honda city, the nicer-butt version, not the latest one. :)
~ ACC
~ the number 5
~ the word 'sweet'
~ the word 'poyo', because well, the first ever time i used that particular word was to you. :)
~ bright smiles
9. YOU
~ paradise deluxe
~ secret smiles
~ birthday wishes
10. YOU
~ a proposal
~ that huge hello kitty at my brother's house. here's the thing. i have a bad memory of hello kitty, since secondary school, i hate it, that's why i can't keep that particular one, heh. i told you i didn't want it but you were so stubborn. oh, okay, sorry!
~ purple-colored kancil
~ UiTM
~ my three best friends. you know who they are. :)
~ nephro patients
~ the word 'stalker' and how i regretted it. :(
~ the word 'sorry' and how i wish i could say it to you face to face and meaning it with all my heart.
11. YOU
hm, you're a new addition. though, i don't really know where we can go. but here's the things that will remind me of you:
~ hotels
~ subuh time. :)
12. YOU
i don't know why i hadn't added you before, in that entry. maybe because you don't know me and i don't know you. but, somehow, you're the inspiration for one of the characters in my stories, so i just realized you made quite an impression on me. by just taking quite a number of pictures of me when you worked as the photographer at my brother's nikah ceremony a long, long time ago. so, here goes. things that remind me of you:
~ photographers. especially during weddings. :)
~ a black cap. man, i love guys who wear cap (s)... :p
~ danny.
that's it, then. hm... what triggers this, you ask me? well... maybe i just miss the memories. and the memories will remain with me always, if God wills it, because of these things... :)

common sense & common courtesy to women...

so, i've talked about common sense & common courtesy to elderly in my previous entry. here's another part where these two important things are lacking. common sense and common courtesy to women. well, to be perfectly honest, this entry might be a little bit biased, since i'm a woman. but i'll do my best to see it in both views, okay? as a man and a woman...
so, here goes...
i can't help but admire the way western men treat women (and i mean the good way, not the way when they let the women prostitute themselves).
especially those in classic victorian time. how they rise up when a woman enters a room, how they let the ladies walk in front of them, how they open doors for them, how they carry the woman's load, however small and light. this might be, i guess, because the queen victoria's husband, the prince consort em-what's-his-name-i-forgot was really a man with meticulous attention to courtesy towards women. that was then. now, western men still adopt those courteous behavior towards women. maybe not to the extent of rising up when women enter, but the rest still maintain. good for them.
which brings me to malay men. i bet you hardly see malay men who let ladies walk first, open doors for them, help to carry women's load. there are a few, i've seen, i've known them. my brothers, Alhamdulillah, my colleagues at work, a few of my friends. but that i could count with my fingers, hands and toes. definitely not majority. still minority. why?
the way we are breed, i guess. we're not taught to respect women when we were little. we are taught to be afraid of them when they became angry, we are taught to be irritated at them when they babbled. and thus we lost respect towards them. and i'm saying this in general, as a woman and as a man.
i'm not saying women are so weak, men have to do everything for them, no. that is a hard no. a shake-my-head-a-hundred-times no. NO. huge NO. because women are equal to men. i was reading the e-book by harun yahya, maryam:an exemplary muslim woman, and it got me hanging for a while. it said in the book that muslim women should have more strength than those of unbelievers, since they have Allah as their sole helper. true. muslim women should not be bothered with problems, emotional or physical, since every problem has its solution. true again. meanwhile the unbeliever women have been drilled into their mindset that they are weak and they need men in their lives to help them get through problems, emotional and physical, so unlike how a muslim women should be and should be taught. maybe that's where the courtesy comes from. maybe that's why western men treat their women that way. helping them in everything. because they are set to think that women are weaker than men. that got me stopped for a while, and wondered. because i don't want to be a weak woman. i want to be the best muslimah i can be, Allah willing, and thus, i can't be bothered about courtesy? that question keep flashing in my mind...
yeah... i shouldn't be bothered, really. we, muslim women should be independent, should be strong, as strong as men, if can be. even stronger, actually. i mean, God creates women to carry babies, not men. that should give you some ideas on how strong we, women can be. that's the ideal idea. that's how we should try to be. but, courtesy for me, as i broaden my view, is not to show that women are weak. it is to show that you respect them. that's all.
we can do all those by ourselves, seriously, we can. we can walk behind you, no problem, we can open door with our own two hands, thank you very much, we can carry loads, heavy or light, we are known for carrying a dozen shopping bags during retail therapy, for God's sake, so we really don't need you, men, to do all those things. it is only c.o.m.m.o.n c.o.u.r.t.e.s.y for you to help us, to show that you RESPECT and CARE for us. that's it.
it's not such a big deal when it's lacking, still, it's just sad. sad that you out there learn a lot deal how to touch a lady's hand who is not yet your wife, how to kiss your girlfriends, hug them, going all over the boundaries, dah tak kisah halal haram, all that you learn from the western lifestyle, but you neglect to study the way they treat their women, their mothers, their sisters, how they RESPECT them. you kiss your girlfriend, you shout at your mother. what the h#@!? you take the wrong lessons pretty well, you overlook the right ones. that is very, very, very sad. that's the sad phenomenon occurring these days. that's the lacking of common courtesy that i feel so sorry about. seriously.
okay, common sense to women... hm.. what do i have to say about this? the stigma or common thought related to women is that women are weak. i think i got that covered up there. we are not weak. end of story.
common sense. let's talk in general, shall we? i have a story in my mind. a complaint from a colleague, in fact. she was upset when someone at work compared her to her sister when she showed him a picture of the said sister. the comparing of looks might be a bit superficial, to me anyway, but you have to admit, no one likes to be compared. men and women alike. right? be it how you look, what you've achieved, your grades and the list goes on. i know i hate to be compared. many of you do too. so her complaint is justified. i mean, come on... it's common sense that there are people who are better and worse than we are. we're good at something doesn't mean we are good at everything. some people might say you're pretty, some might say, you're just so-so. but do you really have to say that out loud, to that person? where is your common sense? sense here is a big word. can be defined into so many things. but one i want to light up here is this: sensitivity. there.
sensitivity. derived from the word: sensitive. God creates us to be sensitive. men and women, the same. only differs on how deep it goes. women more than men, i guess. but it depends, really. men can be more sensitive than women. if they spend enough time to observe people around them, and stop staring meaningfully at beautiful ladies only. observe people, observe the world around you, observe life. and that one destination you're heading to. you'll be more sensitive to other people's feeling, their thoughts, their aim in life. and you won't feel the need to compare among yourselves. because at the end, you're still heading towards the same destination. you still aim for the one thing. to gain His blessings. some might be closer to Him, some might just realize they need to be closer to Him.
if only we stop comparing, we'll be at peace, going to that direction. if only we stop comparing, there won't be anymore jealousy, believe me, because there is no competition.
life is not a competition. life is a lesson. a test. a transit. a temporary stop before the hereafter. if we can only remember that, maybe we'll treat each other better. maybe we don't even need to discuss a topic on common sense & common courtesy towards anyone on radio or here or anywhere. because everyone will try to make each other's life easier. because everyone is equal over there. everyone is equal in the afterlife, paying for what he/she has done in life. answering for every single, tiny thing to Him. if only we can remember that.