28 September 2012

3 Part Poet

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

I don't really know how to say things. The right way, that is. So often I have things needed saying but either it comes out wrong or it don't come out at all. Thus the writing and blogging.

People around me say things like "You really like to work on your blog" or "You must love writing" to me. Well they are wrong. I don't like to work on it, though they did get the writing part correct. To put it bluntly, I need this. Words. Why is it you may ask? Because, I find the right words to say and more importantly I can say things that matter most. Words that cannot take form in speech. Words and lines and details that I hope to never forget. Details that I fear I'll not remember. A part of myself that I cannot afford to lose.

I don't mean to sound this way. It just is.


Poems. I like them a lot. People continuously read them, treasure them and have a try at deciphering the lines. But they never succeed in getting the right interpretation.


Because there's none to begin with. Or there's too many interpretations to start from any single one.

Therefore, the poets left us with beautifully written words (or common words used with such style, it becomes a depiction of beauty) open for individual explication.

In one way or another, the words contained herein are similar to poems. My own version of poems. You read it and may try to decipher the true essence of the writing but I don't think anyone has got a true understanding of the story behind it all. Except me and Him.

So here ends it all,
Least for tonight.
Cause tomorrow is a new day,
Full of endings,
Rich of beginnings.
Whose I know not,
but one of us it may well be...

This is not a poem.
This is something for everyone.
 To think about, to reflect upon.


Last of all, I stumbled upon this song by accident. Funnily, I knew the part "ease my troubles that's what you do..". Like a distant memory, I remember someone from my childhood singing this song, probably my Mom. Enjoy the song~

But I like the Rod Stewart version better :)

21 September 2012

Intro With a Vert

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

If knowing had a price, it was you.
If knowing had to make a sacrifice, it was me.
But knowing did not know the price for the sacrifice,
Therefore knowing did not know.

Sorry for the mumbo-jumbo, I just had to write that down. You don't get it, fine with me.

Today was a day of many days. If this one day could span a week, this would be how the week-day or day-week felt:

Day 1
I have a schedule now, and as with any schedule it simply won't be of much help if you don't stick to it. So with heavy steps, I forced myself upright to a start of a new day. This day was very. Short. I figured I had one-hour to do some reading. 'Econs' it showed on my schedule. So Essentials of Economics it was for me. First time reading it really, an amazing feat I would boast to anyone who'll listen. Then, it was day two.

Day 2
Time to wake up from the book. Next stop, the meeting. The main reason for my being here (or there) today. We agreed for a time and place. I was at the right place and time, but the other party had neither right. I was a bit pissed off. However, I kept my cool, swallowed whatever grunting was coming out and started pacing of aimlessly. How long this day lasted? I wasn't aware. Most probably because it was so refreshing to have a day to walk without going anywhere. Just plain walking. Then, day three came.

Day 3
Yup, I have to wake from my jovial walk to nowhere and be somewhere. So we met up at the designated spot, waited for a third friend and heard what was there to be heard. I have to say, these people had high targets but sadly, the creativity and action did not match. So my friend and I gave a few ideas to improve here and there. More importantly, I had a chance to showcase my religion. It started with a simple question "What time does Friday prayer start?" and given her deep-rooted curiosity, we bounced more questions and answers for quite some time. Until, the meeting came to an end.

Day 4
I figured I might as well make the most of my visit. So I asked around for the office because who better to help me out than someone dedicated to a job of ensuring students get to their university of choice, right? Dead wrong! Needless to say, my week ended with a sharp jolt midway through.

Day 5
The happy days of the week has passed. I was pretty down with people, with myself, with the world in general. I never thought such a harsh world existed. Moreover, I didn't notice I was living in one such world. What a nasty way to wake someone up. What was going through me? A few things really. Was I really up for it? Why did I take the bumpy route when a paved walkway was present? And other more private questions not for the public to know.

Day 6
It was a new day. "Do not let the failures of yesterday hinder today and tomorrow". I talked myself into believing these words. Well, actually I walked myself into believing. Pretty much the same thing though. In my eyes, at least, they are one and the same. Have you ever been in such a state? What do you do in those times, if ever you face it? I walk. I also write. Like how I'm doing it now. I don't know why but writing your problems on paper has an aftereffect as if your problems are now literally separated from you. Some people throw it away but I never do that. Instead I keep it. For reasons you'll know if you ever read what I wrote today near the lake. The wind helped carried my worries away. It helped too that some people still has my back and cared enough to ask. I must have been dreadful at concealing my problems behind a fake smile. More practice perhaps?

Day 7
I figured sometimes in life you'll face a day, a week, a month or a year in all those time you have in your clock that seemed just a tad too dark for your liking. You may not like it. But put your trust in Him, for "Allah does not burden a person with something more than he can bear" [2:286]. I know this is true for the word of God is absolute. It's just that some things are too difficult to grasp. So I'll need some help re-affirming what I already know. Wherever its coming from, I'll be glad of accepting it.

Yours sincerely,
The Introvert.

16 September 2012

Lights Come Alive

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

The downpour was heavy yesterday. Well, it was good then I had a roof over my head. Nothing beats a good old car on rainy days. And the rain brought with it a certain coolness that was just perfect after a hot, sweaty afternoon. Alhamdulillah.

Two turns ahead, I arrived. But it was much too early for anyone to be there. Plus, it is the weekends. A long one too. Which is exactly why we can sacrifice one day of it for a side trip down south. A last outing before semester starts you can call it.

"Oh well. It's better that I'm alone. Less prying eyes."

So I got on with washing myself and must I tell you again how sweet the sensation of finally washing all the dried-up sweat. How the temperature helped set the mood. And it helped that no one was around. I must have taken a long time, but by the time I was done - and all my stuff re-packed and safely in the trunk - I still had tons of time on my watch if I had my watch.

Wandered I did satisfying the curiosity and boredom in me. Mostly boredom really. The sky was clearing by this time only letting fall the smallest of raindrops as if its belly is being discharged of the last of its contents to deep satisfaction. I didn't notice when it stopped for good though because there was nothing much to see in the first place and less than five minutes later I was in the mosque.

Had this trip been with the old me, I would've taken retreat at the back and immediately slept. Don't get me wrong, I was running on spare battery but the new me won't take sleep as number one on my priority list. Instead, I did some reading. I don't quite get the words but this is one book you can relate to without understanding the words. Of course, value is added with comprehension.

And yet, even after a few pages it was just too early. But I was not alone anymore. Two more souls were there spaced apart from one another maybe three, I didn't get a good look. The drugs of drowsiness was too strong but I tried to fight it. In my trance of being semi-awake, I saw people coming in small groups. I heard voices but words were inaudible. I thought I must have looked funny - a boy in blue sitting at the second row nodding at invisible walls.

Five minutes before time. I passed out.

Deep sleep took over. Total and complete blankness. It was great!

After what seemed like hours, the sound of a voice woke me up. I was in a busy mall I thought. There were people everywhere. Multicoloured lights blinked on either side of the two-story walls. And the smell. Oh what amazingly wonderful scents hit my receptors! I was under the impression that in my slumber, I have been whisked away elsewhere. Fear not, I was still in the same place, on the same day too - just minutes actually in difference.

In that short space of time, I have learnt to appreciate certain things. A quality sleep. The rain. My car. People. Time itself. And the five senses that made all these pleasant experiences possible. Most importantly, I've been taught to value the company of people.

Notice how boring and bland your life would be without other people. Your life is a plain canvas. You can paint it anyway you like, yes. The problem is you are one person with one mix of personalities and traits that make you you. Meaning you are one colour on the palatte. So no matter how masterfully and skillfully you paint, one colour won't make much of an impreesion.

Your families and friends make up the rest of the spectrum. And with them and their help, you can paint a life so vivid and beautiful, the occasional splotches and defects too will seem like an intended stroke from a master painter's hand.

14 September 2012

Trying Hard

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

Jazakillah khairan kathira, that helped a lot :)

10 September 2012

Never Too Old. Just Too Young

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

There seems to be a disturbance in the air. The once familiar neighbourhood now seems like a distant image of illusion, ripped and torn by the merciless nature of time. And in the midst of all this howling wind and snapping cold, a boy - a lone figure so small it looked impossible such a fragile-looking frame could withstand such ferocity and still walk through the streets undisturbed as if on an evening stroll.

The only give-away of the temperature was the boy's thick, dark cloak that wrapped him on and on in an endless sea of fabric. And the only clue that the boy was a boy was his height. Well, he could be a girl but he could never have been a full-grown man or woman due to his rather dwarfish height. One might even argue for the case of malnutrition to answer for his not-so-tall look but for reasons other than the sake of simplicity, let's not argue with the author shall we?

So here was a boy, bandaged in clothes which resemble rags more than anything really walking hastily down a deserted street. What in the world he was doing, don't ask me for in my unbiased observation he too was at a loss of activity. That was the only reason someone so young to be here so late.

Yes, lost he was. Lost in the sunny ways of typical youngsters by the timing of his arrival and the way he carries himself. Lost in identity I'd say by the way he dressed. Lost in passion for anything by the bored look he so casually wears on his face. Most importantly, lost in words because of the unbreakable silence he had weighing down on his tongue and shoulders. Silence so loud it could only be caused by loneliness and a sense of misdirection.

And here I was looking at him from a distance - aware of all the misery the world has brought upon this young being yet afraid of taking action against such widespread injustice. The boy, I sensed, however was not sorry nor seeking empathy from the cruel inhabitants of this world. Rather, he was seeking understanding - not from the same people that inflicted this curse on him but from within - from and for himself.

The boy's onslaught (I'm sorry to say) has only just begun. And I say this not to siphon what little light he still had with him but as a precaution, a beacon for the boy so that he may keep that light safe from the winds and cold that seek to extinguish it's meek warmth from accompanying the boy through the long and arduous journey he has ahead of him.

A single smile escaped his eyes. There is hope it seems though very slight. He'll need it I suppose and a good sign it was that he was able to find reason to smile even when surrounded by conditions that could've easily put an adult to his knees in utter despair. What is there to smile about? In a place so dark. So wicked. With danger lurking in the shadows, luring weak prey for easy pickings. A place so straight yet so crooked. Where thousands upon thousands were martyred yet very few know of and even fewer care to tend to the wounded.

A world of selfish fools. A place full of deceit where the line between truth and lies blur. A playground for adults, a death arena for kids where coffins are filled with dreams and shut away forever. So tell me, "What is there to smile about?"

This sad sad truth is but the nature of things. That is unless we change it.

As the boy turned around the corner, I stole one last glance at him. Nighttime was knocking on the door and with it comes the amplification of all that's bad. So you would understand why I had to step back from the windowpane. Why I just had to look away from the boy. I could not bear to follow the boy's life anymore. It was too much of a pain.


And there I was thinking running away was the answer. As I fell onto my knees, a surge of pain in my legs. How could I be so blind? There was no boy! Only the passing of day making my reflection on the glass window move inch by inch until the setting sun made it turn into the corner of the sill...

02 September 2012

Pursuit of Happiness

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

Searching. That's what this is all about. And this is 'life'.

The individual within each of us is always on the lookout. For what? I don't know exactly. But something that leads to happiness. Yes, happiness.

According to science, human beings need certain necessities in order to live. Basic needs that must be met if we are to  survive and see another tomorrow. Basic needs that, deprived of it we become weak, cut off from it over prolonged periods we die.

However, in this world spearheaded by science and innovation, this era of technological progress, one of those necessities still elude us. The object in question? Happiness.

So what is this illusive thing we often think we have? Only to realise, much later, the painful fact that it never came to us in the first place. Have you ever been happy? And I mean truly happy.

Well, that's the thing: I am not so sure myself.

One thing though is for sure - everyone on this earth is in the mad pursuit for happiness. The means of getting to this mirage of a destination differ vastly. The results too vary. Some get there, others never moved an inch closer to it. Amazingly, some even move further away as they struggle harder to get there.

Are you any closer to happiness?

Moving on, and I better stop now before I get too philosophical if I'm not already, how do we catch this thing we're after? Like I said, methods can differ and chances are you may not ever get to your intended destination.

But fear not! For results are out of our domain of power. But efforts, my friend? Effort is the one and only variable in our direct control. Why worry over the winds when you can always adjust your sail?