Nov 21, 2009
I Really Love The Feeling Of Cherishing What I Have
Nov 1, 2009
The Five And Sixth Senses Make Me Depressed. So How?
By the way, I finished my IELTS last Saturday. If I were the examiner 7.5 would be out of the question, I probably don't deserve that much, but then again, tawakkal. Hehe. I did my best.
Oct 19, 2009
The First Star Of The Evening
Assalamualaikum w.b.t.
Sep 26, 2009
Change
How were my holidays?
Different. That’s the exact word that can conclude everything.
While I was treating myself away with homesickness at Mydin, the genius of DJs kept playing all sad raya songs that made me a helpless sentimental. (I believe they were only pouring their heart out)
Jihad untuk Allah, semua ni takkan rasa pedih sangat, a friend told me. The realization that I am actually a college student, who no longer wears uniform to school, and am currently staying far away from home in the pursuit of, ahem, my dreams - smacks me.
Back then, those 17-turning-18 people looked so mature and ready for the world ahead. I used to think that in time I would be like them, seasoned enough to tread the paths of this transition period. Guess what? I fail to consider myself as wise by now, and getting older makes me feel more naïve when confronted with new, err, trivialities.
Truth be told, the notion that someday I, Allah willing, would be a lawyer, still seems surreal to me. There’s always this part of me that drags my self-esteem down. I mean, I have the malu-tak-bertempat disease seemingly running through my veins, and oh please, I couldn’t deliver a decent impromptu speech to save my life. And my hand shivers five minutes after I stand in a public eye – even if the public only consists of my college mates. Whenever I converse there would surely be errors even five-year-olds would not even dream of doing, and there goes my flow.
Talking about five-year-olds.
You know how it is when you read a five year old’s composition and think that it is quite impressive for him, so you give him marks above the average? But the child thinks that he deserves more since he put his best effort into that particular thing, and he asks you what could be done in order to gain more next time?
Well, I am repeatedly having my stint at being his equivalent.
Imagine spending all night researching something and writing and re-writing something, and cutting and trimming the product and redoing the whole thing.
And you get only 15/20. Imaginably you want to know what you did wrong.
“Oh, it was impressive ~” and blah-blah-blah. So why didn’t I get a higher mark? Like I needed an answer. It was impressive for someone like me, a five-year old in the eyes of a foreign-experienced lecturer.
"So what can I do to make it better, Madam?"
"You need to put your points forward in a… different manner”
"Different as in…?" This, I am resigned to take as something I will never know for the near future. Picturing something is not my forte.
But come to think of it, what did I picture myself as? Maybe I am just a typical Malaysian who was too pampered to even realize the importance of thinking about my future. About, not of. That is why I feel so off-guard and confronted with things previously alien to my simple mind.
But for everything that has been pushing me, now that my eyes are widely open, I suddenly realize that my own self is in dire need of a change.
Actually, I quite enjoy law as it throws me into the compulsion of venturing outside the confines of the syllabus, you know, like really getting in touch with the real world and putting the grey matter between my ears to work.
Which could have been an irrelevant problem had I spent my last eleven years of education not being spoon-fed by my previous teachers who, I now realize, have been overworked by us, what’s the word for it, passive students.
I am a true-blue Malaysian third-class mentality after all, see?
Yes, my present life may be so unbelievably blargh at times but I suppose I took the right step. I don’t have regret any of my past decisions, my hiccups actually shoved me on my way here, and yes, although I do admit that Law is not easier than Science which I can never bring myself to love, but here I am and I’m not going back. I need to give all and accept all.
I should be an optimist, wholeheartedly submitting to the fact that come what may, I can handle it – no matter how disappointing the end point may be.
My sister labeled me an ultimate pessimist, what with my ways of complaining about the system, but is doing nothing against it, due to the belief of the ugly consequences that may surface.
And I thought I was different. An ultimate pessimist is just another sick hypocritical whiner.
I can see how it’s all planned out. I’m the one who needs to change. I’m the one who needs to be closer to Allah, and to work harder, and to look at the brighter side of things. And be content for what I had, and what I have, and work myself off to a point of being content of whatever I will have, regardless of it being satisfactory or not.
(Pergh. Another of my personal blabbering that should never have been published in the first place. I’ll give it three days before deleting it)
Sep 23, 2009
You Know Your Islam Is In Trouble When...
- the last thing you learnt about Islam, the Quran, or Jihad was from CNN
- all your conversations with your friends have to do with guys/girls, or movies, or guys/girls in movies
- you spend more nights at the club during Ramadan than at a Masjid
- you can’t remember the last time you asked someone a question about something you didn’t understand in Islam
- you find time to watch three movies a week but find yourself too busy to pray Salah regularly
- that Quran translation you were given last ‘Eid is still sitting on the top shelf of your bookrack
- the ‘inner voice’ you hear when you are in complete silence sounds surprisingly similar to the latest hip-hop song you heard
- you don’t know any people who you can say Salaams to without feeling embarrassed
- the feeling that God is watching you in all that you do is never more than a passing thought
- you are available to receive phone calls at 2 a.m.
- your clothes and hair smell of cigarettes on Sunday mornings even though you don’t smoke
- knowing something is right or wrong and feeling guilty about it does not effect whether you actually do it or not
- you gave hope of ever entering Paradise because you don’t feel you deserve it after ‘all that I have done’
- when you want something in your life you fantasize about it and say “I wish!”
- you can’t figure out why you are never truly happy deep in your heart and why nothing good in your life ever seems to last (why does it always have to end?)
- the happiest day of your life so far was on a Christmas, Valentine, or a dance
- you are loneliest when you are sad or when something bad has happened to you (where did all my friends go?)
- you don’t think of the Prophet at least once a day
- when you hear of Muslims dying somewhere in the world, you consider it part of ‘politics’ which you have nothing to do with
- your ‘best friend’ is a person of the opposite gender yet not your husband or wife
- you have no motivation to change things in your life
- when your faults are pointed out to you, you reply “This is who I am, for better or for worse!”
- listening to the Quran does not make you feel guilty
- you are actually flattered when people on the street stare or ask you out
- you friends never object to any of your bad habits or behaviours and vice versa
- you don’t care whether you go to heaven or hell since no one can really be sure about these things
- to you, Islam is just another ‘organized institutionalized religion’
- you actually agreed with everything your philosophy professor taught in class
- you generally feel crappy and often find yourself telling people that
- your consider and justify your sins as ‘a part of who I am’
- you want to travel around the world someday but Makkah is not one of your planned stops
- your parents hate you and have said so to you
- you read the horoscopes yet have never performed Salat-ul-Istikharah
- you have never felt like falling down on your face and crying to Allah
- you look down upon people who are more practicing than yourself as ‘just mullahs and molvis’
- your past bad experiences with some Muslims prevent you from getting closer to Islam and other Muslims
Sep 14, 2009
Betapa Berbezanya Aku Dengannya
Sep 11, 2009
Kalau Tragedi Dah Terjadi
Aug 5, 2009
Lupa, Ingat? Tiada Ulang Tayang Punya...
Ingat lagu ni? Mungkin sudah lupa. Tak apalah. Aku pun baru teringat masa-masa kami menyanyi sama-sama. Boleh nyanyi benda yang sama berkali-kali tanpa bosan. Apa lagi yang aku ingat?
Aku kenal D sejak sekolah rendah. Duduk bersebelahan masa darjah
Lepas tu D masuk SMSLD aku tinggal di St. Dominic’s. Aku sangka aku saja yang rindu dia, rupanya D pun rindukan aku dalam tiga tahun berpisah tu. :D Hal ini satu kenyataan,
Tapi yang penting, penghujung tingkatan
Kebelakangan ini aku selalu teringat.
Awal – awal tahun, tidak dibenarkan tidur di dorm orang lain. Terpaksalah aku berjalan terhendap-hendap membawa bantal atau selimut kala light off. Sesampai di
Aku ingat lagi masa kami merancang untuk tinggal di Masjid Al-Kautsar Tawau. Akibat berani mati, kami naik bas ke Tawau. Bila rancangan tidak jadi, kami yang kali pertama merempat, beli Maggi cup dan makan di perkarangan masjid. Ingat bila D sakit dan terbaring di tepi tiang berdekatan tandas? Lama aku tunggu dia bangun.
Aku ingat bila D cakap, ‘eh, g****knya kau ni’. Aku ingat bila D menegur aku. Aku ingat bila D suruh aku solat Isyak balik sebab dia perasan aku gerak lebih tiga kali semasa kami berjemaah. Aku ingat D beritahu aku bila dia jumpa ayat yang berkaitan dengan konsep roh berjalan semasa tidur.
Perihal tidur. Dia yang selalu bersusah-payah datang ke dormku pukul tiga kerana aku minta dia bangunkan aku, walaupun selalunya aku tidur balik. Ingat pula semasa aku yang berada di bawah pengaruh syaitan yang membuaiku ke alam mimpi dibangunkan olehnya aku dengan selamba marah, “Kejayaanku bukan di tanganmu!” Walaupun D sudah maafkan aku, dia tidak mungkin akan lupakan insiden ini.
Tapi memang fitrah D tidak pernah tenang kalau kerja rumahku belum siap. Sebab itulah dia sanggup bagi aku meniru kebanyakan kerja rumahnya. Satu perkara yang aku rasa berkaitan dengan etikanya, dia jarang minta ajar daripada aku. Aku faham jugalah kenapa.
Sewaktu cikgu mengajar di hadapan sering sahaja aku ajak dia bercerita. Aku sedar yang dia tidak suka gangguan tapi tanpa bercakap-cakap aku mesti akan tidur. Ya. Aku kawan yang pentingkan diri. Apa boleh buat.
Pernah satu masa semua orang menyampah dengan aku kerana menjalankan tugas yang tidak orang lain suka. Aku rasa macam disumpah menjadi orang paling menyakitkan hati di sekolah. Macam faham saja, D nyanyi, “Ketahuilah bahawa dengan mengingati Allah hati akan menjadi tenang”. Aku menangis kerana dia ingatkan aku tentang sebab sebenar aku lakukan semua tu.
Sekarang aku ingat D beri ‘Cottage Fries’ kepada Shadam, tanpa mengakui identitinya, walaupun Shadam amat selalu sakitkan hatinya pada masa tu. Aku ingat coklat yang D bagi kepada Cikgu Hafiz selepas kami menyakitkan hatinya. Masa itu aku salahkan D yang mahu ke tandas semasa melakukan tawaf. Akhirnya D minta maaf bagi pihak kami berdua tanpa ungkit sedikit pun.
Aku ingat cerita D fasal SB. Aku ingat ceritaku fasal kisah buaya. Aku ingat mimpi-mimpimu yang pelik-pelik belaka. Aku ingat apa yang kami conteng di kertas Fizik, ketawa-ketawa semasa periksa markah peperiksaan kami yang rendah. Entah-entah D ingatkah tidak. Aku ingat perkataan ‘monkey love’. Betapa kami berkongsi apa saja, biarpun sepelik mana.
Sekarang aku ingat masa-masa kami bertafakur di belakang locker, dalam dunia kami sendiri, orang lain fikir kami ni entah apa-apa. Aku ingat waktu D datang ke dormku kala petang Sabtu, ketika aku sedang enak tidur, kerana mak D bawakan makanan untuk D berkongsi dengan orang-orang beruntung seperti aku. Aku ingat waktu kami kelilingi
Kami teramat sangat selalu bergaduh. Selalunya salah aku. Kadang-kadang D pun mainkan peranan juga dalam ‘Cold War’ kami. Teringat pula bagaimana D cakap, ‘minta maaf’ dan aku dalam masa yang sama cakap ‘sori’, padahal berapa lama kami buat muka stim.
Aku ingat semua tu.
Kenapa aku tiba-tiba ingat? Kerana aku rasa tidak mungkin aku akan jumpa kawan macam D lagi.
Ukhwahfillah, itu sebab kau sayang pada aku.
p/s : Bahasa Melayu begini sesuai digunakan di Sabah sahaja. Tiada niat untuk menjatuhkan martabat bahasa dengan menggunakan tatabahasa yang salah. Saya masih sayang bahasa saya. :)
Jul 12, 2009
Kepada Lelaki Yang Paling Kucinta

Alhamdulillah,
Kerana memberikanku bapa yang penyayang
Mungkin tidak pandai menunjukkan kasih sayangnya
Mungkin tidak lembut bicaranya
Mungkin terlalu tinggi egonya
Namun dia yang membiasakan aku supaya menjadi seorang yang berdikari
Supaya biasa akan hakikat hidup
Biarpun aku tak pernah jerah menyusahkannya
Berkali - kali aku kecewakannya
Sentiasa memikul tanggungjawabnya walau seberat mana...
Janganlah Engkau ambil dia dari aku sebelum aku sempat membalas jasanya...
p/s: too much posts on my family, I know.
:(
Ani and Erin please come over quickly. Like, please.
May 31, 2009
Help Me!
My brain is rusting and the cells are being killed.
Being someone who needs to work twice (or more) as hard as others and being doubly (or more) lazier than others I need my brain to function...
What with being stacked amongst the real scholars; maybe luck would decide to pack its bags and leave to help some other random low-confidence, brain-rusting fellow.
Oh: I'm suffering from larynxitis, like every other year. So it'll be life as a mute schmuck from now on till hopefully three or four days later. No complaints, I deserve to get sick anyway.
I want to kill Samuel Eto'o and Lionel Messi. That amateur-at-MU-traitor-at-Barca Pique for going back there. It's not their fault, but... we need a scapegoat. Hah. That guy Guardiola, first season and three major titles to his name. I mean, how unfair could it get?
I can't believe I stayed up to watch my team back away when the opposition got the ball. I muttered (people were sleeping) 'bodoh' a myriad of times. Don't blame me.
Confession: Law is BORING. I need to recapture my interest towards it or, I'll be, well -
DEAD MEAT would be the best word.
Until next time, me.
May 2, 2009
Dia Anak YB..
Surah Al Ahzab, ayat 72
Biarlah aku kekal pada aturan asal blog ini: watak – watak yang anonymous dan hanya berkisar luahan ringan topik – topik remeh dalam hidup aku. Bahasaku memanglah bahasa LD, jadi sebarang kesalahan dalam bahasaku – tidak kira bahasa Melayu atau English ataupun kedua – duanya sekali, aku memang akui.
Perbualan di bawah bukanlah rekaan semata. Cuma aku sudah memotong bahagian – bahagian yang mundane dan tiada kaitan dengan topik yang bakal aku utarakan hari ini.
A : Kawanmu tu, setiap hari datang bawa motosikal siapa?
B : Motornya sendirilah.
A : Dia ada motor sendiri?
B : Bukan motor saja, kereta pun ada.
A : Padahal masih bawah umur. Mana ada lesen?
B : Memang begitu dia bah. Dalam dompetnya tidak pernah lekang 50 ringgit.
A : Ndakpala, orang kaya jugak dia.
Mau juga aku fikir yang aku ni jenis yang tidak sibuk hal orang lain. Mungkin aku akan mendengar kisah – kisah begini dan berdasarkan mood, mungkin aku akan mengumpat, mungkin tidak. Tidaklah sampai mengambil masa menulis pendapatku tentangnya.
Kenapa aku berminat kepada subjek perbualan A dan B? Kerana watak itu, C, merupakan seorang anak YB.
Daerah yang terpencil ini ada YB sendiri? Biar betul.
Daerah yang hanya memiliki paling banyak tiga orang kakitangan yang bekerja di kaunter Pejabat Pendaftaran Negara? Tempat ini bagaikan neraka di mana nombor giliran boleh mencecah paling kurang 200 orang dalam sehari, di mana bumiputera Sabah bagaikan pelarian dari entah mana, bertenggek di pejabat kecil di mana prosedurnya lembap terima kasih kepada bilangan pekerja yang sedikit?
Daerah yang tersenarai sebagai antara daerah terkotor di Malaysia?
Daerah di mana CD lucah dijual oleh segelintir penjaja di pasar sayur dan buah – buahan, dan kenyataan bahawa hanya segelintir yang menanggapnya sebagai masalah?
Aku bukan orang yang tepat untuk mengkritik. Tapi aku sebagai warga daerah yang aku sayang ini, tidak kira betapa lembap, kotor dan kurang kemudahannya, wajar menilai.
Sampai satu ketika, aku tiada perasaan bila orang lain bercerita tentang YB. Aku sedar bahawa daerah ini ada YBnya sendiri, namun aku seakan – akan menerima kenyataan yang YB kita hanya sekadar pada nama. Tiada apa yang meletakkan beliau sebagai seorang yang lebih berhormat, kerana beliau cuma manusia yang diapungkan oleh golongan yang tidak begitu ambil peduli tentang daerah yang aku sayang ini. Semuanya tentang kepentingan sendiri.
Seperti aku sendiri yang tidak tau sepatah haram pun nama menteri kabinet selain yang fixture dalam akhbar. Kalau menghafalnya pun sekadar untuk karangan BM saja. Bagaikan mahu menangis aku menonton rancangan analisis politik Astro Awani kegemaran Bapak – tiada tarikan, gimik murah semata. Bukanlah ingin menonjolkan pemikiranku yang shallow, tapi bagi aku politik memang KOTOR.
Salah satu sebab aku tidak mahu menjadi seorang dewasa ialah kerana tidak mahu dipertanggungjawabkan untuk mengundi. Aku tidak mahu memilih si mulut manis yang tiba – tiba lesap semasa kita memerlukannya.
Semasa pilihanraya, bertempek – tempek flyer yang menyuruh kami mengundi YB, sampai aku yang jahil politik inipun tiba – tiba boleh hafal namanya. Aku malah bertanya kawan se-batchku sekiranya ada kaitan dengan YB, kerana nama bapak mereka sama. (Tiada kaitan berabis)
Tapi itulah, habis pilihanraya, mukanya pun aku tidak ingat.
Apa yang aku ingin ketengahkan di sini ialah bagaimana seorang YB yang sepatutnya menegakkan keadilan dalam daerah naungannya membiarkan anaknya yang masih di bawah umur, bukan sahaja memandu atau menunggang, malah memiliki, kenderaannya SENDIRI.
Aku tidak cemburu kerana aku tidak pandai menunggang motosikal ataupun tidak pandai memandu. Naik basikal bolehlah. Aku tidak sedih kerana kawan – kawan yang lain sudah memiliki lesen sendiri sedangkan aku masih naik kereta Bapak atau bertambang bas saja. Soal cemburu tidak relevan. Soal proriti YB yang aku hairan.
Fikirlah secara logik. Anak sendiri mendapat kemewahan melimpah – limpah sedangkan tanggungjawab kepada penduduk daerah terpencil ini? Sedangkan RM1.00 pun amat bermakna bagi orang seperti aku. Bagi dia? Bagi keluarganya?
Aku bukan manusia yang perfect, selalu tanggungjawabku tidak aku pikul dengan sebaik mungkin, tidak setanding dengan orang lain, namun aku rasa aku berhak bertanya, siapa YB kita?
Yang tambah bikin pening lagi, A dan B seakan – akan menganggap C seorang yang istimewa. Atas apa? Budi pekerti? Tidak relevan. Wang? Fikirlah sendiri. Rupa? Memang manis orangnya, tapi tetap tiada kaitan.
Nama. Hanya sekadar pada nama seseorang itu diiktiraf. Sekadar nama bapanya membuatkannya berhormat. Kerana C anak orang kaya, tindakannya melanggar undang – undang dianggap istimewa atau cool.
“Orang, biasanya ni, kalau sudah rasa terlalu nyaman, punya kekuasaan, punya wang banyak, lupa diri. Maunya tambah kekuasaan, tambah kekayaan, dengan menghalalkan segala cara. Kalau perlu segala kekayaan negeri ini untuk keluarganya saja”Laskar Pelangi, Andrea Hirata (Ani’s recommendation. Thanks!)