Sunday, December 28, 2014

Istiqamah. Honesty.

You know what my problem is? 
Istiqamah.
Well, from what I understand from that word is to always keep doing that is right.

According to muslimjapan.com,

The literal meaning of “Istiqamah”: to go straight into the right direction, acting rightly, allowing no deviation. 
It is derived from the stem “Qiyyam”, which implies the continuity of doing something, following up with it and making sure that it is done in the right way and there is neither deviation nor swerving.
"the continuity of doing something, following up with it and making sure that it is done in the right way and there is neither deviation nor swerving." 
This. This is what I lack of. How did people do it? To do things over and over again without failed to reach to the final point. I'm talking this Istiqamah to reach what you want, in terms of your work, in your hobbies. I know all of that are duniyawi... But I guess, if you faith in Allah, in you isqamah in doing ibadah to the Almighty One, I guess, everything will fit into place.

I'm answering my own question here... To be honest, I wanted to write this post about, why couldn't I write everyday? I have the urge to write but wouldn't I? I blame to the notebook that I currently have does not fit with my hand (though this is right, I'm still searching for a new notebook for the new sem), I blame on the laptop (malasnya nak bukak laptop, nak taip banyak2..), I blame on the list of dramas that I should finish watching before the sem start (though this is what I did, dah abes dah drama dalam list...)

EXCUSES, EXCUSES, EXCUSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

I learnt a lot through the year, making excuses is one of them and this is what I hated the most. I'm already good at lying that people don't even notice that I was lying. Making excuses and lying, I think both of them are just the same. And I don't like them. I don't like them one bit.

When you lie, you have to make up the continuity of the made up stories.... Look, I don't even have the istiqamah in lying... If you can put it that way... It's just lying is not worth it. Don't lie. Don't even try to make excuses. Be honest. Even it is hard, just be honest. People will understand.

I am thankful to those who gave me second chances. Second chances are so hard to come by. You have to really bersyukur if you got one. I got a lot of them and I am very thankful for that. Alhamdulillah. Though I made a lot of mistakes in the past, I hope you can help me grow by being honest to me, and give me another chance to improve my weaknesses and repent.

Istiqamah. Honesty.

I need to learn more about them.
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Tuesday, December 2, 2014

2ND DECEMBER 2014: MATAHARI



Random Drabble

“So this is what it felt like to be heartbroken…” Aria thought to herself.

 “It sucks.” 

She let out a long breath and let her body fell onto her soft bed. She sighed and closed her eyes. She felt her heart was twisted for a million of times and was cut into a million pieces. But never a tear was rolling against her cheek. Not a single tear. 

Was her heart made of stone? She thought. No. Maybe she couldn’t produce any tear. Well, this one is obviously false because she just cried over watching “I am Sam”…. again, last weekend. Maybe this… this situation couldn’t touch her… Maybe this situation won’t break her… maybe… She took one last deep breath and sat up. 

 “So, what now…”

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Monday, December 1, 2014

1st December 2014: 10.00am

Well, it's 10am somewhere else.

So, I created the December Post thingy just to be my stimulation for me to write avidly again. To start back my engine for me to write. To force myself, my brain to think, to exercise to translate my imagination into words and pen it down as quickly as possible before it flies away into the unnamed darkness.

I chose the month December because, as cliche as it sounds, it's my favourite month and also it's my birth month. Other than that, I did the statistics (just random observation, there's no data at all) that my brain will actively chatter in my head and completely will bug my thinking process if I don't write it down or tell anybody. I would prefer to write because then, I could refer my thoughts again. I don't even know why I do like to read my old thoughts. It just fascinates me how thinking works, how a perception of us on somebody or something can change due to a stimulant that can make a thought turn 180 degree from its original angle.

Actually I have 2 approaches in my head on how to write today's post. Yes, I AM that excited on writing again. (Aku rasa poyo pulak tulis blog pepanjang ni... Sapa je tulis lagi woi!!!) On with the actual post that I wanted to post. Tadaaaa... The fictional narrative approach. It has been a while... Hisashiburi ne..

A thousand words a day, makes your head shut up... hmmm...

Warning: I didn't check my grammar.


1st December 2014
10.00am

It was 10.00am. The gloomy sky painted the room dark that made him sleep so soundly. The only light that shone in his room was his twinkling phone.  Teeeeeeetttt. Teeeeeeetttt. Teeeeeeetttt. The phone couldn't stop ringing. His left hand kept searching the phone to make the alarm stop. He reached the phone and slid the screen to dismiss the alarm. The phone beeped, signalling him that battery's going to die soon. He did managed to check his inbox before the phone shut down. “Sorry, I couldn’t visit today. A thing came up. Mum.” He groaned and threw the phone across the room. He looked outside his window, the trees outside waving at him accompanied with the drizzling rain.

He sighed. “What a wonderful Monday morning, today is... There’s no such thing as Monday Blues, only colourful happy Mondays” He commented to himself half-heartenedly. He got on his foot and forced himself to start the day. He brushed his teeth and without bothering to shower, he put on his favourite black hoodie, not to say his favourite hoodie, it’s the only hoodie that he got. And wrapped his head with a beanie and put on another layer of jacket to keep himself warm. It’s going to be a long, wet, cold, gloomy Monday.

He loved cold weather. But somehow, on this exact day... he wished it’s not a long, wet, cold, gloomy Monday. Just for today, he wished to have a sunny, birds-chirping, tank top, hot Monday. That way he could do more outside of the four walls.

He grabbed an umbrella before going out and walked through the puddles of water without looking back at his apartment.

Breathing was starting to get difficult while he’s walking into the park. He stopped at a coffee vendor that had a couple of other customers.

“Assalamualaikum. Good morning, Adam. Going to visit your sister today?” the barista greeted him with a full-teeth smile.

“Waalaikumussalam. Yeah, Othman. It’s her birthday today,” Adam smiled weakly to himself. “Can I get the usual, please?”

“Coming right up.” Othman continued to make a cup of caramel macchiato with a double shot, that’s how Adam liked his coffee. A cup of joe to keep him awake. Also, it was his sister who introduced him to Othman, the barista at the modest vendor but still, made the best coffee in town.

“Here you go, Adam. And give this flower to your sister, will ya. Tell her I said hi.” Othman smiled again, but now with more sympathy, more sincerity.

Everybody in town knew about his sister. Aliyah, the jumpy, hyperactive, happy kid that always roamed around the town with her purple bicycle and her noisy bell attached to it. The same bell that almost got him caught of stealing a hundred dollars from their mother’s savings; also, the same bell that saved me from got hit with a car that drove past the driving limit.

A cup of coffee on his left, a white daisy given by Othman on his right. He smiled to himself while continuing his walk to his destination. People like Othman made his long, wet, cold, gloomy Monday not so bad.

The drizzle stopped when he’s hiking up a hill. The hiding sun started to come out from the fluffy, dark cloud. A rainbow started to form, colour the blue sky to wonder. He put away his umbrella and embracing the sun light suddenly appeared. When he reached the cliff with an outstanding view of the sea, he sat on a built in bench. He put the coffee and the flower next to him. A smile drew slowly upon his face.

Looked up to the sky, the dark, fluffy cloud went away. Lines of colours curved up in the sky, sun’s shining through. “What a wonderful Monday morning, today is... There’s no such thing as Monday Blues, only colourful happy Mondays,” this time around, he said it with a smile on his face. He closed his eyes and let himself bathed in the sun rays. “Happy 17th Birthday, Aliyah. I hope you're having a colourful happy Monday today.” He said to nobody in particular.

It was four years ago this day, Adam was supposed to watch over Aliyah since both of their parents went on a business trip for two days. One Monday, he invited all his friends to his home, took the advantage of his parents trip. While having fun, he overlooked his sister’s well being. The gathering went up until late at night, he still oblivious towards his sister’s whereabouts. The next morning, a school day, he went to his sister’s room to wake her up for school. He opened the door, saw her bed was completely untouched and Aliyah was nowhere in sight. He ran around the house, searching for her sister. “Aliyah... where are you? It’s time for school.”

He soon panicked when he could not find Aliyah’s purple bicycle. It’s too early for her to be gone to school, was she at a friend’s house? When did she left the house? Did she ask for my permission? What if mom and dad found out? I’m dead. Dead? No... Where are you, Aliyah?! This is not funny! His mind’s screaming with questions and possibilities. After hours of searching, he finally called his parents about the situation and called the police to report the missing Aliyah.

The searching team took just a day to find Aliyah’s purple bicycle on the cliff where Adam’s currently sitting and the day after that, to find her bloated blue body floating stuck in between rocks near the cliff.

That image of his sister still haunted Adam’s mind. He still blamed himself that his sister was gone now. Their parents too. Adam made a bench and engraved his sister’s words there. Her words that always remembered, “There’s no such thing as Monday Blues, only colourful happy Mondays.” Aliyah (1997-2014) A daughter, a sister, a colourful soul. We surely belong to Him and to Him we shall return. 

“I’m sorry, Aliyah,” muttered Adam, his smile slowly faded, a tear ran down his cheek. 
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