Falling Under.

I don’t know how I should feel what I’m feeling. I feeling like there’s a whole other person inside of me and I feel it is unfair if you did not know. I am not this girl, since the beginning of time I know what it takes to have people like me, to pretend to them and show them the most likeable features of me. To not exactly lie, but to not tell them the truth. I feel like it is safe. Safe so I wouldn’t be hurt by not being accepted for who I am. And as time passes by, I soon began to take form of the girl I pretend to be that up until now, I do not know who I am anymore. I can’t trust the words that came from inside of me, from my own voice. I feel like all that came from it are stories, fairytales, and the perfect plot. I am no longer a natural human being. I’m scared of myself, I’m scared that one day when I took off this mask in front of those I love they will shunned me away. Because I am no longer the person they thought I am.

When will that day come? The day I can let go of this heavy mask?

He said never. Never as long as he is in me.

I heard his voice as clearly as the thoughts. He told me things. He has been telling me who I am, how I’ll handle thing. Through my tears, I could feel his hand around me. I could feel half of my body against a heat I can’t explain. I could feel him suck away my darkness only to transfer it to another part of me. He told me to stay away but he never did stay away from me. He has been lingering around. They told me to let him go. That he is not real, that I’m too childish to hope for a none existence but that none existence is what keeping me sane all those years. All those years of me bearing those mask. Telling tales of a hypocrite heart. He knew who I wasn’t. He endure it, as I endure his presence.

It was painful.

A part of me, that part of me. Maybe he was holding it with him. That is why I have never been able to find it. I have to find him to find it. He knows who I really am. Because he heard my shout, my scream, my cries, my fear, my anger, my frustration, my suicidal thoughts. He saw it. He saw everything. My other half, my savior. He felt trapped not being able to hold me. I could feel it too.

Where will I go? Can I escape the truth?

The truth that I’ve been depending on his soothing words to keep myself sane. I’m losing my mind everyday with this doll of a self. How should I not? I’m tired of pretending. But if I stop, I am no where near resting. I am no where near myself. Because I do not know who that girl was, or am.

All I could hear is his voice… and my own stupidity to hold on to this mask. My savior? Is he really? Or am I falling deeper in this quicksand. I could no longer pull my legs out. Suffocating. Hand? Where is that hand? I could feel a presence. Is it his? Or is it someone else. I would never know.

I’m letting you go now. I’ll see you again. You got a chance to show them your self without that mask tonight. Just tonight. Tomorrow, when you wake up, u have to wear it again. Do not let them know. Do not let them in. only you and him exist in that mind of yours. Do not let the others enter. There’s not much space. Tonight, little girl. Only tonight. I’ll keep you close.   

#midnightmuse #justapiece #reiraisabella

If this was a movie.

Assalamualaikum..

It was 78 days ago since I last wrote and a lot has happened. Obviously. 2 months and a half is enough to change a course of someone's life. Especially if that someone is me. But it is not just me, people around me are going through tough changes too and well, it seems like my life is not as dramatic as it theirs but for once, I'm glad. I have had enough of this whole drama thing. I just want to lead a normal life for once but I guess you don't get to choose your way of living is the best thing because God gives you the best you could have had.

Sometimes I wonder if I could like, write my own storyline, what would I wish for? What would I have written? A happily ever after or a tragic ending? I always wanted a dramatic ending after all but I want a normal, laid-back life too. I guess like everyone, I want my character to be happy, to have happiness in my life. 

Of course, I have happiness in my life now, no doubt. And it's not like I want some infinite happiness or anything. I love my life right now.. I just finished the whole series of BBT and TVD. So much happiness is running through this vein. 

Anyway, if I could write my life story, how will it go? 

Well, for one thing I'd be married to my best friend. Not my current one because he is being a jerk lately. Well, at times I do find comfort in him but most of the time he is just begging me to press that red button that says 'WARNING: Explosion might occur". I have never publicize our weird relationship but then again, I never publicized any of my relationships. Serious or not. I just don't feel like telling people. 

But okay, lets just for once I lower down that barrier and tell people about him, I don't know. It might seem once sided. But to be really honest (I know, I'm not answering the question. I'll get back to that later), he is like my addictive pill. I just can't go on days without talking to him. Even though it is a random topic.. it has been 3 years, the longest we've been not talking to each other is 22 days. It was horrid. 

And honestly speaking, he and I may not be hanging out physically a lot but he is the only guy who could stand my emo-shit, my PMS mood, my craziness, blood-thirsty moment, and my drama. And yes, he hated me a lot because I've hurt him countless times. But he is still here and I don't see him plotting a revenge plot against me, I think. Oh, wait, he did once and he told me about it.. but he didn't do it. 

I guess that was the moment I knew.. 

That I have someone I can rely on. That person where I can tell everything, talk randomly and we'd still be talking. No matter how many time we fought. It's not fragile, but not concrete either. I just hope that whatever it is, we'll still be friends.. 

Okay, back to the topic..

I'd be married to the guy who, above all, knew me like the back of his hand and even more, connected to me by something more superior than the claims of love. But then again, this world is not perfect. I might not find him here. So I'd just wish I'd be married to a decent guy who would still love me and be honest about his thoughts. I don't want a romantic guy, or prince charming.. just someone who would help me raise a family, still be supportive of my choice. 

And in my story, I'd be working, achieving my dream, spreading kind words and helping people. I just want to be someone that marks something not only in this world but in people's lives. 

But the storyline. I don't know. I think I love my storyline now. Yeah it is a bit messed up here and there, but that's the way it should be. 

I guess that's all for the update. 

-MJxx

Ultimate Love

Salam Alaik.

The only reason I felt like writing is because I met a writer with that touch-my-heart sensation. She is my Creative Writing classmate. When I first heard her read her writing, I literally had that feeling of wanting to cry but at the same time I don't want her to stop. I want to devour every word, but at the same time, I want those stream of words to keep linger. Simply, it's like buying a Dark Mint Chocolate (my Fav) and as much as you love it, you do not want to eat it all in one go. You want that taste to linger but not linger long enough till you get bored. 

She's one of those writers. I fell in love with her words instantly. And I kinda look up her FB and that leads me to her blog. And well, what surprises me is that she talks a lot about God and Mercy and the Love towards gone and yeah, I guess that simply make me choke back tears. I realized her words were like mine. What I used to write anyway. I did not do it anymore now. And I was wondering why when I found the answer. 

I've grew apart from my Ultimate Love. I grew apart from God. 

I may be past my prime teenage years, where theories of 'finding self' lingers, but I still haven't find myself. I wanted to cry. Sometimes I thought I am this kind of girl, but then I changed to be someone else. It confuses me sometimes. Then it gets me, maybe the reason why I'm confuse about myself is because with different people/groups, I am a diff person. 

All because I want to get a positive feedback from people. I realized that I've been living life according to people. And I hated it. Because that is the reason why I grew apart from Him. I forgot God. I forgot my reason to exist in this world is to be whoever He wants me to be. 

I guess its a domino effect. You widen your gap with Allah and the rest seems to fall apart. Because you didn't get the roots right, the leaves will not grow healthy. Allah will forever be the root. The reason. The starter. 

I miss talking to Allah, telling Him how I've achieved things, how big something insignificant are, how I used to cry telling Him my sins and my problem. Holding onto Him and only Him. 

I hope one day I find myself within His premise. I grew closer and closer to My Creator. To fall in love over and over and over again with My Lord. And to die, knowing my life is blessed by Him. I know at times I've given up on Him, whereas till now, He is still watching over me. 

-MJxx 

You're my Flashlight.

“He’s gone.”

What do you mean he’s gone? I just saw him. I spoke to him. A few minutes ago. I clenched my hand to my heart, worried. I could feel the air getting colder. They say the weather tonight is going to be rough and here I am, standing at my balcony, overlook the seas. I could see the wave kissing the shore, no matter how many times it has been sent away. I pulled my knitted cardigan tighter to me. I can’t lose him. Not now.

This tower has been my home for years. People come but they go too. Leaving me all alone, always. I am always alone here. I have a mirror I could talk to every now and then but that is just it. The mirror, although responsive, is not human. It may act like one but by the end of the day, it is not real. But he is. He is real.

I remember the first time I saw him. He was just blending in, like all the other people who visited me in my tower, who lingers around. His eyes was fixed to a flower, determine to have it. I watched him as he failed a few times but he wouldn’t give up. But then I saw him bled. I was concern but I didn’t show it. I never show it. He didn’t notice that I noticed. Though I blamed the flower.

He is always in his small little world. His comfort zone. But sometimes I envy him. He gets to stay in that comfort zone and gets hurt little than I did. I saw a whole world out there, even though I’m still trapped in this tower, but I have the advantage of seeing a wider view from up here. But he seems happier.

One of the day that I remember was when he approached me personally, asking me if I’m bored, being here alone. I said I am, or was, because then afterwards, he came by every day, bringing me games and activities for me to do, to play with. I’m not sure if it’s me pulling him out of his comfort zone or if it’s him who brings me into his but we are in between whenever we are together.

Slowly, I began to get warm with his presence that long before I realized, I always wait for him to come back. He’s not confident, he makes awkward moves sometime but I always notice the way he speaks, the gruff voice that makes me smile unwillingly and that impossible-to-understand words that he always choose when we play our game, the way his eyes would stare innocently sometimes when he is deep in thought, the way when other people came and tease him and he would try to avoid it. Oh, how so many things I noticed, but he didn’t notice.

He was there when I feel helpless, he sees me in my darkest mode. I expect him to run when he knew, the reason I was trapped here but he stays. And now you’re saying he is gone?!

Yes, Honey. He is gone. He will eventually be gone.

I stared, helplessly. I could feel my knee buckled that I have to hold on to the stone railing of my balcony. Why? If you said he is gone, why? Why now? Why suddenly?

Because your heart reaches him. Honey, don’t you remember?

Remember what?

Remember, that you are not meant to love anyone. You will only bring hurt to other people. You are a poison. And before you hurt that innocent boy, we have to take him away from you first. Even if he returns your feeling, you will never be happy. You are not allowed to be happy. Your job is to stay in this tower, alone. Always alone.

I sat down. I remember him. I remember the night I pushed him away. I remember the harsh words I said. I remember the hurtful look on his face, the tone. That voice. I wanted to scream sorry but I know he is probably half way across the country, glad to be away from me. I’m sure he’ll forget me. He’ll meet someone new.

Damn it. Why.

Honey, he will remember you.

I looked up. He will?

Yes, after all, you were the darkest hour in his bright life. 

*****

This took me less than 30 minutes to write and is probably the shortest time ever. And I love it cuz it seems new. Like unlocking a new skill. Hilmi said it's dark. He always said my writing is dark. *eyes rolling* He said this is what happens when you are a Literature student. Ouch. Mcm dier bukan ex-literature student. Eleena said its tragic. I guess it is a mixture of both but I believe this is the closest to me bringing out what is inside of my heart. What do you guys think?

I think it is something new. Like when a painter discover a new way to mix their colors and how a photographer discover a way to bring out a certain image and how a musician finds the right chords to play together. This is how I discover mine. 

I hope I can write more of this. Eleena and I are planning something. But it is mere planning for now but I really, really do hope it is not just a plan. I hope it is a work of action. Writing is not easy. It is like putting everything on the line and hoping that you win the lottery. I guess that is my fear. I'm afraid to sacrifice and I'm afraid off what is going to happen. 

We can't all win in this world, it is the survival of the fittest. Not everyone wants to read your book. I'm afraid that if I fail the first round, it'll bring all of me down. I'm not saying I'm a patient of depression, but depression is there around me. Waiting to grab me in his arm again and wouldn't let me go. 

I guess that's that. I have to get ready for class. Class pagi da ponteng -.-'

-MJxx

Midnight Rant #1

Assalamualaikum~

I don't really know why I keep on putting '#1' behind each post because I only manage to write one post on it every time. This is not a serious post whatsoever. Because this is me being very nervous for my Arabic Midterm tomorrow. Hell yeah. I am never this nervous before. I don't know why and because of my nervousness, I decided to wash it away with some writing. Even though I'm typing it with my trembling fingers. 

I have this fate with Arabic. I've been learning and studying it for almost 20 years now but it never stays. My ustazah said that studying Arabic and Al-Quran is different from normal studies because if there's something wrong with your intention and your heart, then you'll never get there. 

I guess she's right. I mean, yeah, she's right. I guess my heart was never that pure to begin with. Sebab tu bertahun belajar tak lekat2 pun. Haish. But I want this to be different. I thought it could be. I even pasang this niat if I score well, I nak minor Arabic. Mimpi je wehh. 2 minggu cuti, vocab semua hilang. 

T.T

Oh, before I forget.. Thanks Anas for the longest comment I ever received from anyone regarding my posts.

(If you are reading this) Thank you for the long way back support. Because I always have this fear that maybe I'm not that good in writing and that would be a nightmare because I love writing and being told that you are not good at something you love is one of the worst feeling. And you are one of those people that I appreciate exist in helping me to pursuit writing because I know there's someone out there who will still read it. Kay, mcm cheesy. I love your stories and your post too btw. And thanks again for the help. The remaining Ramadhan is an alhamdulillah phrase. =D

This is a midnight Rant sooo.. I don't really have an objective on what to write. Hmm.. Hmm. My raya is good. Boring but good. Though I don't know what people are expecting out of me. And I think human beings are full of lies. (Okay last statement tu takde kne mengene with my raya. Haha.)

I know I need to get back to my revision tapi tak bole nak focus. I don't know why. I feel frustrated. Countless time Arabic has let me down with its exceptionally hard moment and blank space it gave me during exams. I am afraid that tomorrow, da belajar bnyk mane pun, I tak ingt. Sadds wei. Sadds. 

I guess that's that. Thanks for reading my ramdom, sangat random post. I'm going to start writing short stories, poems and my long hiatus novel again and I'm trying my hardest to get over my fear of rejections. I want to be able to write without the fear of one. InsyaAllah, one fine day, kalau da takdir, ade lah tu buku2 tu kat shelf2. And may it touch others too. 

P.s, in case if u're wondering why I put Lily Collin's picture up there, she is kind of my inspiration. I love her motivational words, her acting, her expression, her fashion sense and her hairstyles the most. Lol. But putting it in this post is random. 

So random. 

-MJxx 

Signed off at 12:50, 28/7/15

  

Ramadhan Diary #1: Challenges!

Assalamualaikum!

For introduction, it has been 4 months since I last 'vowed' to write everyday. So predictable of me. I also thought of writing a continuous of the Ramadhan Tazkirah but I have yet find the time. Okay, that is an excuse.. I did find time but I didn't make use of it. But tonight, since I slept early and woke up like around 1am and couldn't sleep back, I supposed I might want to write something. 

This isn't entirely a tazkirah thing. Cuz I'm not sure of any tazkirah to talk about. This is just a diary, as stated above. Lol. 

And today marks the last 10 nights of the holy month of Ramadhan. So far my experience of Ramadhan here kinda sucks. I knowww. It was supposed to be a deep spiritual journey since I am near masjid and there's a lot of opportunity for me to do my ibadah but gosh, who knew studying and fasting could be sooooo tiring! 

I mean, before this, in KUIS, the experience was a bit different maybe because the distance from my hostel to the main campus is not that far and tiring, but here.. nak naik bukit Salahuddin tu bole mati kay! I'm exaggerating but yes! Penat T.T *cries thousand buckets* 

Plus, my class is full (8am-4pm) and imagine studying arabic for 4 hours straight. Don't get me wrong, I love arabic but *cries thousand buckets again* its exhausting. Language learning is not easy. 

So with the 8-4 timetable, and around 6 I have to be at the mosque to break my fast, I can break my fast in my room but then I'll be lazy to do my tadarus and pray tarawikh. I mean, I do pray tarawikh cuz I'd feel guilty if I don't but I love praying tarawikh with an imam rather then alone. It doesn't feel tarawikh-ish if I'm praying alone. Lol. Cerewet. 

So there you go. Reason why I am so exhausted especially with the weather and how time is brushing so fast. I feel like sleeping the whole day. =( It was rather sad. 

What if this is my last Ramadhan? Then I'll regret it forever and ever. Because I did not put on effort as much as before and as much as others. I'm not that strong. I guess I didn't prepare beforehand, that is why I ended up not doing my fullest. 

And maybe the other reason is because I'm alone. I used to have my usrahmates to be there for me whenever I'm falling but here, since I sorta decided to walk on my own, I don't have them. Okay, menyesal. I guess that is why usrah is important. 

But alas, all that is over and done with. I have the last 10 nights to redeem myself and #pray4me that i'll do my very best and meet with the Night of Power, Lailatul Qadr itself. Ya'll can drop any kata-kata semangat cuz I'm dying for some motivation, for the remaining Ramadhan and remaining semester and remaining lifespan. lol. 

Tgk Sophie!

Lailatul Qadr is my favorite night because throughout the history of my life, a lot of miracles happened on that night. The night I heard that 'Quranic melody', the night that I prayed for UIA and here I am, the night I could feel my Lord's love and how warm it touches my soul, washing away all the sins of yesterday. 

So I hope this year, I'll find it, work for it and gain it. Because this year, I have my own list of dua' and needed to be answered before my time is up. And I need all the help I can get from the owner of my Soul.

[-.- Kes lame tak tulis. Da jadi karangan SPM da.]

I hope you guys forgive me for not writing and still have time to read. 

Takde time pun takpe, tak terase. Kahkah. But you wouldn't come down to the very end if you don't have time, do you? *senyum sinis*

Haha. I'm taking Bahasa Melayu this semester so my melayu sorta mcm improve gitu. 

Okay tak, I lied. My Malay sucks!      

Signed out at 02:33am 7/7/15

What's it like to be 22?

Assalamualaikum!

Hey!

Well, my initial plan is to write something about the movie 'Stuck in Love' because if you are a writer or planning to be one, that is the movie for you to get some motivation. Haha. And yes, it inspire me a lot but then I remembered something else. Last year, I wrote this: A letter to 22 year old me.

It was a letter I wrote for the 22 year old me and well, in a few hours I'm turning 23. You know, the funny thing is I was not looking forward for this birthday. Haha. When I was a kid, I used to pester people around me that my birthday is coming and I even had a count down written at the side of my diaries. Like, '20 more days...', '10 more days...' etc. But here I am, passing all those glorious age of 16, 18 and 21 and I wish I would remain there forever. 

No, I wish to remain 22. It is supposed to be my dream year because I have been looking forward to it all this while, hoping that something magical would happen and I would remember it forever and ever. 

But alas, I'm turning 23. I forgot that tomorrow is 22 February until Maxis sent me a msg saying I got free calls. Damn Maxis. Just let me leave in the oblivious for a while. 

So, I since I am not really looking forward to getting older, I'll write about what is it like being 22. Well, truth is, it feels the same as any other years. I mean I'm practically an adult so I don't have an age restriction to anything anymore, so legally, I can do anything right now. 

Even so, being 22 somehow has this effect on me that I am on my special age. I want to make it happen, you know. I want to be able to find my soulmate, or something like that. If it is true. I mean, I know I am a hopeless romantic person but I am somewhat a skeptic too. I don't know if it's real. I don't know if love or marriage will be real. 

Almost 80% of the time when I'm 22, I thought that I am ready and I thought that I am going to find the One and get married and be a wife and a mother. I thought that I was ready. But towards the end, I became skeptic, I began to question my readiness and yes, part of it is because I've been hurt by trusting a person that would wait for me. So I let go. I'm letting go of my 'readiness', I'm letting go of the idea of marriage altogether. 

Maybe I will get married, maybe I won't. And I'm okay with it. Maybe I won't find the love of my life ever. Maybe I won't experience all that cheesy moments and that fast heartbeats. And I'm okay. Maybe I won't ever have a baby of my own and experience raising up kids. I guess this is a phrase of being an adult. You just get over it. 

I have a lot of things I want to do in life. Things that I can at least plan and have a bit control of. But marriage isn't a thing that I can control, so it is no use living life waiting for Prince Charming to knock on your house and ask for your hand in marriage. So it is far better if I can focus my life on things that I can plan on. Like my studies and career later on. 

I guess being 22 reminds me that I have a lot of other things. I have a whole future ahead of me and I need to act fast. I need to stop mopping around and wait for opportunities to come by, I have to search for it. I'm not getting any younger. And 22 too reminds me that I have something valuable in my hand, and I am wasting it by letting it go without investing in it and therefore, I will try to make 23 as memorable as possible. I will not waste it nor will I let it pass by because, hey, you are not going to be on the same age deck twice, mate. 

Although, 22 is not really a waste. I get to meet awesome people, learn valuable lessons, and fail and fail again to remind me that I have to climb back up, to remind me that I still have Allah up there to remind me that I have to work harder than usual. It helps me to be a better person, and a better adult, I guess. 

I just hope that I'll find the strength and courage to pursue writing and get something published. I was afraid actually, to publish something.. for the fear of no one reading it. But a writer I personally met the other day said, To turn that fear into a boulder and make your way through it. Focus on those who actually reads and actually support you. Ignore all the negative thoughts. So yeah, I'm making my way, InsyaAllah. Pray for me, aitez?

Oh, I'm ending this post with Edgar Allen Poe's:

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."    

New Look!

Assalamualaikum.

Finallyyy! Akhirnya! I manage to re-construct my blog!

It took like half the day and I am really, double exhausted. Susah wo main-main coding ni sume. Kejap kecik, kejap besar. And yes, I know.. "Lah simple je new look ni." Memang sengaja. Haha. Memang nak simple. Dulu tu macam bubak-budak sangat! Well, I was 19 at that time. 

Yes! Da 3 tahun tak tukar template!

Lulz. 

Alhamdulillah, in between procrastinating my assignments, hafazan and homeworks, I decided to spend the whole day doing this. Which is kind of fun. But very leceh. Hence, the next template change will probably be after I graduated. Ahaha. 

Besides, I have yet to frequently update my blog because I want to re-construct my blog first. So, InsyaAllah, may I have the time to update this lovely blog of mine walaupun tak tau ade orang bace ke tak. Haha. 

Even so, I still want to keep on writing. Who knows, maybe one day when I am no longer here, people would stumble across this blog and somehow, my words manage to inspire them to do something good and it will be my 'saham akhirat'. Who knows, kan? Dalam kubur tu memang da tak bole buat ape-ape so kne mengharapkan amalan yang berterusan je ni. 

Okay, this is just going to be a short post. To tell everyone that I have a blog makeover and that by Allah's will, and my 'rajiness', I will try to update my blog frequently. Thanks to those who has been reading my blog all this while. Ehee. 

Belanja selfie sikit! Ahaha. K, ngada2. 

-MJxx

Papers

‘We are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be.’

I stared at those words as they stay perfectly stagnant. This was supposed to be the sign, the sign for me to jump into the water and starts swimming. But I ignored it. I put the card back down in its own compartment and walked away from the shelf.

The bookstore is usually empty in the morning. The perfect time for me to venture in. I love books, I love all of it. The smell of paper, the sound of the pages flipping, the colourful and mundane cover, the place where books are stored, the inside and the outside. This is what true love is, I guess. You accept every part of the things you love.

I walked around the next shelf, the Young Adult section. My eyes linger lazily on the titles display, touching them briskly with my finger, as if I could feel the story slowly sipping in me. Some of the books I have already seen far too many times that even with a single glance, I know which book that is. Some of the books, I don’t even need to read the summary, I already know what it is all about.

Frankly speaking, I don’t even know my purpose of being here. I just simply like books and I want to be near books. The library is too far away, in the busy maddening town that I have no interest to drive through a heavy traffic this early in the morning. So I guess I settled in for the bookstore.

I bend down politely, letting my flare skirt spread the floor to scan the bottom shelf books. I pulled a foreign title to me out and survey it. It has a nice cover of a huge paper clip. “Paper Towns” is the title. I’ve heard of this book before, and has once stumble upon it but I have yet to read the summary. Reading summary is my favourite too. Waiting to see how compelling it could be.

“What is the purpose of life?” Suddenly I heard someone saying it.

I looked up and saw a guy around my age, looking too intensely at the back cover of a book. I did not feel his presence so I quickly got up and brush unseen dirt from my skirt and fix the front side of my hijab out of habit. It is fairly impolite to crouch beside a stranger, mainly a man.

He looked up from the book and straight into my wide eyes. “I’m sorry?” I asked. “Are you asking me?”

He smiled. He had a crooked smile. “I was talking to myself but feel free to answer if you want to.”

Usually I would say no and walk away. That’s the thing, I prefer to be in the company of books more than people. It is easier to understand books than to understand the human mind. How ironic, actually. Since books exist because of the human mind. “To obey, I guess,” I answered, surprising myself of the courage I found ever so suddenly.

“Obey what?” He asked. He raised an eyebrow and it arched perfectly.

“Who. Obey who should be the question,” I said and answered, “God. The Almighty.”

 “That was written in the Quran, right? Al-Zariyat verse 56,” he said. I was surprised actually. He does not seem like the guy who has the Quran memorized at the tip of his tongue. He was wearing blue jeans and a plain button down shirt. I guess I am in no place to judge him by his appearance.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. I don’t even memorized which verse it is. I just knew because it was a normal input like when someone asked you who do you love the most and you would say your parents without a second thought. A schema answer.

“Are you from a religious school?” He asked and without thinking much, I nodded. He looked down at my wide square hijab, my Muslimah T-shirt that went down to my knee and of course, the flare skirt. A typical representative of a Muslimah dress code.

He averted his eyes back at the book. “You are lucky,” he said. I wanted to ask why but then he repeat back the question with a  bright smile to cover his sad eyes. “So, what is the purpose of life?”

“I thought I answered you,” I said, shift my feet, looking slightly uncomfortable out of a sudden. The question suddenly came into my mind like it was the first time. I tried to block the typical answer and search for the answer on my own. I have lived for 22 years, following orders. Simply following. I saw in my lifetime people found happiness and found the light and was brought back into the right path. They seem to be in calmness. Me? I am simply here. Stagnant. Following orders without putting my heart into it.

I was blind to something. Something that others could see, that I couldn’t. Something that I missed in between the busy lifetime of following. Following. What I was asked to do, I follow. Is that the purpose of life? Simply following?

He smiled at me again. I guess he saw it. “You are lucky to have the chance to gain the knowledge, but you’ll be luckier if you put your heart to it.” He put the book back and walked away without a second word. I began to feel tears forming at the tip of my eyes.

‘We are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be.’ I guess that was the push to jump in. To move from this spot. 

-MJ.

Day 12 #RamadanTazkirah: Escape.

Escape.

One word, many thoughts. 

Everyone, well, not everyone but most of us thought about escaping once or twice or a lot of time. Maybe escape from our problems, our past or maybe, just ourselves. 

I talk with a friend of mine and we kind of get the similar idea that when we want to escape, we'll go far away. Some place where no one know us, a foreign place. Of course, we thought of going overseas. That, is kind of the best escape route ever. 

One time I swore to myself if someone hurt me, or that I could not stand living with the pain of yesterday, I want to go some place far and disappear. Just simply disappear. Live life as another person. And I did came close to it when I got the offer to go to University of Glasgow in Scotland. So near yet so far away. 

But that's me. 

Whenever I tried to escape, Allah will pull me back again and again to the starting point. I will keep on coming back and face my past. Not physically but mentally. Sometimes it gets too overwhelming that I question myself why do I have to face this?

I could not stand being trapped. I'm like, literally claustrophobic [I mean it, I hate enclose spaces -_-]. I tried to push the door open again and again but it got stuck. But I was wrong, I thought that is the only door and that is the only solution but I was wrong. 

Escape, does not necessarily meant that you have to go far away where no one knows you so you can start new. No. That is not the only way out of your problem. Yes, some of us could not handle the past and that is the only route out but some of us, who thinks that they are still trap.. that they can't escape, you know, you have another route, another way. 

When I had a heart to heart talk with a close friend of mine and told her that I was disappointed that I did not get to escape overseas, she said, "Maybe UIA is your escape."

That is like a hard knock on the head. I never thought of another route. Especially not the route that I am walking in. When she said that, it got me thinking for quite a long time. And I realized that all the route that I walked down before this, I was did not just manage to escape but I manage to confront it. I manage to confront the things I want to escape from.

And I did find other ways to escape without having to 'go far away' in a physical sense but I guess I found my new escapes in a form of writing stories, playing with kids, doing programs and volunteering and such. Alhamdulillah. 

I guess in a way, different people have different way of escaping and facing their difficulties and past. Of course, I still do want to go far away but I guess until Allah ask me so, I will do what I am capable of doing now. I will stand strong and face my fears, my disappointment, my dark, my broken self and my pain here. 

So to whoever out there, if your are still searching for a way out, pray to Him. He will provide you the best solution. He will be the hand that helps you, the hand that guides you, the hand that answer all your doubts and fears. 

Be strong. Dear you, be strong. =)  

#prayforGaza 

Day 11 #RamadhanTazkirah: Why support?

This will be a very short post, I supposed.

So, support. Well, people support a lot of things. Some support football clubs, some support cause, support celebrities or belief. Varieties of support being sent out every day. How we support, what we support, that kind of things too define who we are.

Like today, most of us Muslims support Gaza. We keep on posting and share stuff and write status regarding our support. Well, the niat or intention, of course, we can't see but I say, alhamdulillah. We are creating awareness.

But what saddens me I guess is sometimes we do not know why we support. I can said this to myself from time to time because I support a lot of things and then it came down to me personally asking myself, what is is that I'm supporting or why am I supporting this?

I know, some might say... "Why, of course, it is for a good cause, because we are Islam, because we are this and that.." But that is not enough. Well, I don't see that reason as enough because I don't know, it is not concrete and wayyyyy bias?

Then I guess I kind of figure out that sometimes people support something for their own benefit. Maybe not regarding the Gaza, Syria, Mesir war but about something else like why do you support this politic leader and why do you support that football club. I don't know why I keep on repeating football club -.-' I don't even watch football.

Okay, lets look at a different angle. Some of my friends are starting their own business and I can't help it that whenever they promote something, I would buy it if I have the money. At one time I did ask myself, why did I buy it? Is it because its too tempting or because of the price? But no. It wasn't because of that.

Then I found the answer, if I were to open up my own business or write a book or do something, of course I need support right? Even though I know I suck at it but I need a kind hand to say 'Keep going' I'll be supporting you. And I guess, my heart realized this before my mind. I support them because I know they need it. I guess in a way, I am just the in between person between them and Allah swt.

Alhamdulillah, I guess Allah return the favour. Today, I too receive countless supports even from the people I do not know. So thank you.

[Macam lari topic je -.-']

Conclusion: Be supportive and support those who need it and be aware of what you are supporting. Don't blind-support stuff. =D

Day 10 #RamadanTazkirah: Time to wake up!

Days and days after scrolling down Facebook timeline, Instagram and such, I realized one thing.

There are a lot of heart breaking news than good news. 

I think I've realized this months before and I just couldn't put it into worlds of how scared and mad I am to what is happening. Is humanity slowly declining? The world is coming to it's end, right? All I managed to do is talk to a few friends of mine about what is happening today and we would share some sympathy words and that is that. 

I feel ashamed of myself because I did nothing to help them. Palestine today is at it's mid-climax war between them and the damned Israelis. I don't know what is going on there, of course, because I am not there. Yes, I did read about their well-being but no matter, we would never truly know what they are going through. 

This is a token given to me from Palestine.

I read a bunch of real life war novels in Afghanistan, Iraq, Palestine and such but that is the closest I can get to know what they are going through. And even just that, I could not imagine how strong they are to endure it for years and years and more years to come. 

My father has a friend, a Palestinian friend, Tamer and he used to tell us about how the Palestine became the Illegal country of Israel which, I personally do not recognized as such. Israel is the real terrorist. Anyway, when he told us that, I could somehow see the big picture. I think I wrote a post on that somewhere in this blog. I'll try to attach it later.

 Today, right now, it has gotten much, much more complicated when the Western country, the so-called 'justice' countries interferes. I mean, how could you not see what is going on?! I mean, even if you can see it, how could you not feel anything?!

Children are dying... And yet you can close one eye and give your pity to the one who killed them? Really? Gosh, this must be some kind of a joke world I am living. 

Right now, I envy those with power. I don't mean artificial super power, I mean the one who has the power to stop this. Country leaders. To lend a hand, to defend the honour of other Muslim countries too. Instead of defending your own honour and dignity.  

While I am incapable to stop this killing, this massacres, this war... I will keep on sending out my prayer and I hope everyone will too. Non-stop. And try to boycott their stuffs too. At least we are doing something, right?

But even so,

I envy you. Yes, I envy all of you.

Because you get to claim that Syahid title easily.

Dying for Allah. Die because of Allah. 

How free your soul must have been. 

To face the Almighty, proud by being the Protector of His Deen.

I don't pity you, but I pity myself. 

To not even have the courage to lift my pen and defend Him,

Yet you lift your guns, your weapon,

Fearless.. In front of the enemy. 

Your soul Brothers,

Your soul Sisters,

Are very much loved by Him. 

Keep on praying. Keep on praying for them. I know, I am barely doing anything besides uploading this post. I am yet an activist to travel far and be with them, am yet an activist to walk down the road shouting and chanting to defend them. Yes, I feel hopeless. Yes, you can say that to me over and over again. All I manage to do is share some post, write a few lines. 

I feel hopeless. But I won't give up. I'll try. At least. 

[To whoever you are who keep on judging people, please restrain so. You do not know what is in their heart, what is in their mind. Who are you to say that they are not doing anything. To not be aware. I know a bunch of people who did not join the activist program, did not share status of their suffering but deep down they are secretly praying for them, secretly donating money for them, secretly persuading others, secretly boycotting.]

InsyaAllah, let us all do a part, even though it is small, to at the very least help them who are defending us.