21 October 2013


اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

This post here has been on draft since...ever. Not really. It's been there for weeks. Yeah, that's right.

Anyway, I made this as a means to relay what (I/we) (am/are/had/have) been going through in UK. Tapi tak tahu lah nak tulis apa... Hence, the draft comprising only a single-word title and salam.

So, to avoid this master procrastinator from further procrastination, I figured I'd just write something about anything. Having said that, I think prior warning is necessary: THIS WILL BE A PIECE OF UNCOORDINATED WRITING. If any of you are allergic to such styles of narrative, then by all means, stop reading NOW!!

Here we go.

(For simplicity's sake - both yours and mine - I'd like to breakdown this post into 5 basic parts, thank you)

What I See

Lots and lots of greenery. Let's face it, this place is a nature reserve compared to where I came from. You get huge trees everywhere, expenses of lush parks where people (and animals) can come to play. And flowers! I get a nice view from my window, mashaa Allah :')

What I Feel (physically)

A large spectrum of sensations every hour of the day. You start the day with a beautiful morning sun. A few hours later, it drizzles a bit. Then strong winds sweep it all away followed by heavy downpour. If you're lucky you get thunderstorms, meteors and candy falling out of the sky all in the same day ;)

What I Smell

I don't smell anything here. My nose is (for the most part) frozen and non-functional.

What I Think

I think I should take some of the trees here and bring it home. I just hope they can survive the weather back in Malaysia.

What I Feel (emotionally)

Life's here a bit taxing. You walk wayyyyyyyyyyyyyy more in a day here than you ever have to do in a year there. (Maybe I am exaggerating, but who cares?) You have to find time to prepare for lectures, cook, study, attend lectures, prepare for and go to seminars, eat, clean, save the world, do dishes, bathe, exercise, do your groceries, socialise, solat, sleep, and still keep a few hours for yourself to do what you love. You'll get used to it after a while, I guess.  Still...

And that is it. I have work to do, so bubye! :)

This is not a picture of Warwick.
I just put it here cause it looks nice :)

03 September 2013

Ralph Didn't Wreck My Day

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

Tonight was the second time I watched this movie, and it still hit me as a fantastic one! The kid's real cute and all :) and Ralph's just amazing (even though he wrecks pretty much everything).

In a way, this movie is a brilliant effort of telling people that the way we were born (or programmed, in this case) does not dictate what we can do with our lives nor does it limit who we can be. Vanellope von Schweetz (I like her name ^^) was portrayed as an accident & Ralph was someone who never did anything right. In the end, though, both of them worked it through.

Our lives, in reality, may not be as easy as theirs & we may never get a taste of 'living happily ever after', but hey, we can all try can't we? And I personally believe that is what is most important - that you try to do good even in the worst of situations. The world may not see what you do, but who really cares when you do it for Him & only Him.

I know it is difficult, and I cannot say that I have always been at my best. Especially lately...

We all have a villain inside us. Each of us hold the power to destroy something. And like Ralph, we sometimes lose control. Maybe what all of us needs is a Venellope to help us see better :)

"I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad.
There's no one I'd rather be...than me."

"Because if that little kid likes me, how bad can I be"

31 August 2013


اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

Everything about this music video - the lyric, the sound, the story - is perfect.

I want to make big bubbles like that too :3

27 August 2013

The Flowers They Bloom :)

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

I don't think this entry needs explaining :)

That car spoiled the shot :(

Now that gate's spoiling the view...

This could've been in a rainforest :)

Perfect :')

22 August 2013

Links! Links Galore!!

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

The date: 
Monday the 19th

The sights:
Dark sea on my right. Buildings and lights to my left (way too noisy for my liking). In front, a straight long stretch as far as my eyes can see. Then a bend on the beach. Further down, nothing I can make out even with the bright moonlight. So I went in that direction - away from the city-noise towards the nature-noise. Away we go.

The sounds:
Loud music drowning slowly in the sounds of white caps crashing. Now and then: the occasional giggle of drunken couples merging into shadows. Some time after, just the steady beat of oceanic music.

The sensation:
Peace. Calm. Indifference. The sand was smooth. Where it was still wet, it clung to my toes.

The night sky:
I counted 61 stars at least. Most bright. Some dim. All from light-years away. But I can't really tell because I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. Why, you may ask? Because, on more than one occasion, I see stars in the waters, on sand, and even my palms. But we can be sure there were at least 61 that night.

The lights on the horizon:
Blue and red.

The numbers:
The blues: two, slow & shifting. The reds: 6 rapidly blinking; 1 unchanging. Another was a unique blend of both colours.

The other sounds:
**Room at the End of the World**Drop To Hold You**Buses & Trains**Falling Not Flying**A Lack of Color**Stay Close, Don't Go**My Boy Builds Coffins**A Comet Appears**Keep Faith**They Bring Me To You**Somebody That I Used To Know**Vegetable Car**Take Your Time**

The drift:
At one point, I cease to be. I was not awake but nor was I asleep. Sort of in a limbo. I heard the music, I tasted the salty air, I felt the silken sand, I saw the lights - both natural and man-made - but all those and more I did from outside; as if viewing myself from a distance. From another man's point of view, if you'd like.

The change:
The waves moved farther away from the stone-strewn shores. The lights-of-man shut itself off one by one, while the lights-of-sky multiplied. People got tired and left for bed. The shops closed their doors and I was vaguely aware of how alone I was on that beach. The biting air was getting too cold. So, I forced myself into my body.

The last walk:
It was chilly. The receding tide and the lack of other lifeforms made the space three times as large. And it was in that huge expense of land that I walked, under the watchful eye of the full moon - obscured as it was behind toiling clouds - to my humble abode. The land now had a silvery sheen to it, and after the bend on the path and a few hundred steps, I made it.

The parting of ways:
Without any delays, fatigue took over and sleep came easy. The misty night air says bye bye at door number 9.

The after-image:
A deserted beach. A full moon. 61 or so stars. Billions of sand particles. Two sets of footprints - one going, the other coming back. On a backdrop of island outcropping. All in all, a beautifully ghostly scene fit for a fairth.

12 August 2013

The Price of Knowledge

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

Responsibility. Reckoning. Judgement.
Answers. Questions.
Understanding. Empathy. Closeness.
Detachment. Attachment.
Thought. Speech. Hearing.
Freedom. Oppression.
Practice. Malpractice.

Ignorance. Knowledge.
Darkness. Light.

The. End.


23 July 2013

I Wish I Could

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

If I had it in me to make a fairth of the view I saw last night and two nights before, I would have done so. A camera cannot capture that image well enough. Like the many times I tried to share what I see, this time too I have failed. We need better ways to see, better ways to communicate.

I'll find it, insyaAllah~ :)

10 July 2013

If the world is...

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

If the world is a book, why can't we read it?
If the world is food, how come it tastes bad?
If the world is there, why are we here?

If the world is an ocean, let's swim.
If the world is a huge forest, let's get lost in its wonders.
If the world is a blanket, I'd like to curl inside.
If the world is a house, I'd make it my home.
If the world is asleep, I'd rather stay awake.

If the world is ideal, we wouldn't be here.
If the world is the world, where would we go next?

If the world is right, how come so many are wronged?
If the world is at peace, how come there's war?
If the world is better, why do we feel worse?

If the world is a flame, I'd dive straight in.
If the world is darkness, I'd go in without a torch.
If the world is broken, let's try to fix it.
If the world is within, let's dig deep.
If the world is without, let's not keep.

21 June 2013

Land of Old, Weight of Contentment

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

The second:

I like older people. They are like huge recesses of knowledge just waiting to be tapped into. I like how they regard us with not a tint of prejudice, how their smiles reach their eyes, how they can do much with so little at hand.

The land of old people; I've been there a couple of times before but I did not appreciate the crippled wonders that land and its people provided. The third time here (a month ago) was different. Worlds apart sort of different I'd say. Why you asked?

Because I start to see how paper-thin can't even begin to describe their skins. Yet they seem to stretch further than us, further than you and me. For the first time I saw that the old can be tougher than they look. It is true they limp about their daily chores, take years to cross spaces that take us mere minutes. It is true they need more sleep, more rest, take less food and have more time.

But when we - the young and strong and able-bodied - stumble or fall, who comes to our sides the swiftest? Is it not the residents of the land of old? When we fail to make heads or tails of a situation, when we lose our heads, the old take the reins with hands firm and strong. 

When we need company, they provide. I recalled many a times sitting out with them under the porch, with tea in hand for hours. Just sitting. We don't often get to sit purely to sit. Usually, we sit to eat or to rest or to talk. Never to just sit except when we are with the old. They can meet then stay rooted for hours at times. And when the sun starts to set, a smile and a word of thanks was given. It was as if the meeting bred no conversation when in truth a million words has been spoken.

Time mysteriously bends around the old. It passes through them but at a slower pace. Maybe it has something to do with the dense stores of experience they hold, but whatever it is time for them is a long-awaited reunion. They seek it as if seeking a long-lost friend. For that, time embraces them, slows around them in many ways - some sad, others a miracle. We, the young and the reckless and the greedy also seek time but to kill not to cherish, to use not to make use. And for that very reason, time slips out of our hold, always taunting us to run for the finish line as fast as our little feet can go. Until at the very end, when  our feet can run no more and sudden realisation strikes us, when we look into our empty hands - hands with skin stretched paper-thin - that we ask "Where have you gone to oh my friend? Where have you run to oh time?"

At that moment, time will hopefully reach out and grab our hands. In that instance, we the once-strong, once-young, once-greedy will hopefully begin to see the world as it should be; as companions to lead our lives, not tools to further our aimless wandering. When you have reached that point in life, it is time for you to sit with a cup of tea, welcome anyone to your silent party and look at them with kind understanding. Let them think and see you as strong. Let it not be seen that you were just like them. And as they wonder and fiddle with the thought of one day living the quiet life you now live, you watch your frame grow thin and frail, as the scales show ever smaller numbers, as your physical weight falls. And yet show them how to smile with your eyes, and teach them the one important lesson in life: the weight of contentment far outweighs whatever the world can offer you.

14 June 2013


اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

The first story: 

It was in the dead of night. Two days ago I think. Or was it three? I would like to believe that the whole world was asleep, but on this too I can't be sure. But it sure was silent. Just the way I like my night drives. No soul to see, a little less of the usual business of daytime and wide open roads lit by my headlights.

And like all those times, I drive slow. You don't often get to appreciate your surroundings driving in the day. And if you still can't slow down enough at night, you'll never learn to do it in the heat of day.

Anyway, there I was in my car. And... I won't reveal everything because some things are never meant to be shared. But have you seen smokes from the dying  embers of burnt leaves? Well, I have too. Many times before but never at night.

You should see it! I saw it before I smelt it. White, ghostly creatures drifting into nothingness. My first thoughts were to avoid them but somehow, it was as if the smokes were beckoning me to come into it. And I did just that.

Part of me wished as I whisked into the apparition that I arrive in another world altogether when I hit the other end. The other half talked sense and said, 'It's just smoke. There's nothing to it'

The pile of leaves was too small and so was the smoke it gave off so after one-tenth of a second I was out of it. The part of me with reason smirked, 'See. Nothing to it' but I can't help but think that something did happen in that short interval, between here and there. I can't put my tongue on it, but there was a different aura to the air later.

Smokes. I used to play with them when I was younger. When I liked to burn things. Those days long ago, I wouldn't have had a shred of the thoughts swirling in me today. Hell, I would have stopped the vehicle and played with the embers, fanned and encouraged it until it was again a big pile of flames instead of the pitiful shadows it was. That would be me, if I was that same old (or young) kid.

This time, however, and only on the fourth night after the smoky drive have I come to my senses. Only tonight as I write this that I figure out why I wanted to avoid the smokes, why the white beings swayed so sadly, and what changed the atmosphere three nights ago.

Wasn't that smoke the remains of once living leaves? In a way, I realised that I had hit dead creatures. That as a child I savoured having the leaves tremble at my hands. I looked gleefully as the life force escapes their veins and all I can think of is 'What sort of a monster are we? How can human beings be the most inhumane beings?' Such irony...

Forgive me, smokes.

Catching Up

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

I have multiple stories that has yet to appear on these pages. Some half-finished, others still on the shelves of my mind. Even more stories dangling on the tip of my tongue, never meant to be written but a single, one-time per lifetime privilege/torture for those with hearts to hear it.

In due time, I'll finish the drafts and empty those dusty shelves before I forget any more than I wish to forget. 'In due time...' I noticed I've said that one too many times these days.

24 May 2013


Been fighting things that I can't see in
Like voices coming from the inside of me and
Like doing things I find hard to believe in
Am I myself or am I dreaming?

I've been awake for an hour or so
Checking for a pulse but I just don't know
Am I a man when I feel like a ghost?
The stranger in the mirror is wearing my clothes

No I'm not alright
I know that I'm not right
A steering wheel don't mean you can drive
A warm body don't mean I'm alive
No I'm not alright
I know that I'm not right
Feels like I travel but I never arrive
I want to thrive not just survive

I want to thrive not just survive...
I want to thrive not just survive...
Feels like I travel but I never arrive
I want to thrive not just survive.....

- "Thrive" by Switchfoot 

18 May 2013

The S.S Sky Blue

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

Late afternoons? Never the best time for studying. But it may just be the best hour to write and let those creative juices flow. So, here you are:

If you ever asked a younger me what I'd like to be when I grow up, I'll almost immediately say "A pilot! I want to be a pilot!" with a wide grin.

As a child I saw freedom in the skies. I saw greatness in being sky-high, being on par with birds. That unreachable stretch of blue on a background of white and orange intrigued me. What wonders lay hidden in the world up-above? I thought one day I can be the first to unravel it. And I still do.

I've always loved the smell of planes. The general buzz of workers flitting around here and there - some loading luggages and pre-cooked food, others re-fuelling the aircraft while the engineers prowl around doing last minute checks. I've almost always woke up early on the day of the flight, bursting out of bed from pure excitement as if my early arrival can alter or prolong the awaited flight. That was me, as a kid.

I remember the food too. How good it tasted to me. My appetite seemingly increasing with altitude. How pretty much every stranger I feast my eyes upon pass their meals in exchange for sleep or a healthier stomach. Well, I figured not everyone has bowels of steel to match the twist and turns of the plane. And I remembered (somewhat vaguely) how I hoped I can have seconds. And I recalled (this one clearly) how I hated myself if I slept too soundly when the food trays went pass to the point that mealtime's over and done with.

And then there was the evolution of a plane and its passengers, especially on long taxing routes across multiple time-zones. The vehicle becomes a portal for nicely dressed, sharp men and women to a land of messy people, with jutting hairs and crumpled shirts. Perfumes lose their scent, all those aboard smell and look like sleep. Except for the kids. They talk more, they ask more, some even start to jump about.

Of course, I also know that dreadful feeling accompanying the final goodbyes, how I wished I can find a place to hide - behind a seat or inside a compartment or maybe even slip past the pilots and into the cockpit. But when fear gripped me - the fear of being alone (cause I know my family won't want to stay on-board) and fear of being shipped by the next flight to an unknown destination doomed to never set foot on Malaysia again - I too walk off the platform into the terminal.

But the sadness don't stay for long because I treasure the short and fun times I had on aeroplanes. And maybe somewhere, somehow I hoped that when I next come aboard, it would be me announcing on the PA "Welcome aboard everyone. This is Captain Afiz speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the flight"

Present day

I still love all those things I used to like about flying. But nowadays I look forward to meeting new people on-board just as  I look forward to the food. I take pleasure from seeing families travel as much as I like travelling alone. I still love the same things with some new things added to the list.

For example, most of my ideas in writing come from travelling. The experiences, the difficulties, the company I have, the amazing sights we get to see all add up to one large pile of lesson that money cannot buy (well, maybe I'm wrong here).

And, oh, have you ever seen cities in the skies? With pillars and minarets made of fluffy white clouds. The sunlight piercing it here and there. I imagine them as forgotten temples of civilisations long gone. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of a boy peeping through those cracks in the structure. He, too, knew that our eyes met for a fraction of second. But it did not matter because we both agree on the awesomeness of his homeland. Not to mention the trees, the dragons, the fists, the ships and sails - all made up of clouds - surfing on seas of even more clouds...


Though I know my chances of piloting my own crew up in the air are slim, I anticipate there will come a day when I can still say "Welcome aboard! This is your captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts and get ready for the ride of your lives!"

Then I'll learn how to navigate a ship. She'll be named the S.S Sky Blue. Maybe I'll even find out how to drive a tank.

Here's to that day when I become the first to be up in the skies, insyaAllah :)

I swear sometimes I have the wildest imaginations...

16 May 2013

No Title

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

The following was copied directly from Anberlin's video description for the song 'We Owe This To Ourselves':

i was driving home one night, hours from home and my favorite passenger was fast asleep. i rarely turn on music when i drive, most bands i listen to our not good for 3 AM dark, long stretches of highway anyway. i usually listen to some sort of talk radio, (you hear the most random and borderline insane theories on backwoods talk stations). i stopped on a story about an all to familiar character, but this was not about his headlines, but about the low points of his life.

when it comes to the past we often hear of the success, but rarely ever of the failure. if you think about it you never hear anyone at a funeral walk on stage and belittle the deceased or question publicly their character, you only hear the positive even if there is very little to speak of. in the same light i had heard more positive stories than negatives of this american man. i had listened to the speeches, envisioned his dreams, read books, and even wrote several papers on his influence in my own life.

but this radio program was different, it delved into the psyche of a man who, near the end of his life, felt defeated. he even said in a few different speaking engagements how he felt that his dream may never come to pass, he even predicted that he wouldn't be around for long, and that they (the movement) should continue without him. and that is where we pick up.

great men, or women, with great visions, who rebel against the social norm usually end up in a coffin, in a prison, or even a cross. but then what? what happens when the shepherd is struck, do the sheep always scatter? i believe that when the vision, belief, theology, or philosophy is noble and just then it stands the test of time.

the principal of change through non-violence is nothing new to our system, though it goes against everything we as humans feel is in our human nature. it is easier to to punch then to be punched. it is more convenient to shoot than to be shot at. it is in our core to survive. yet look at mohatma ghandi? an entire government was overthrown through such peaceable means.

i have no desire to overthrow the government but i do desire change, not in a system but in 'we the people'. we have to continue to fight to create or more civil union not in a political party but amongst us the diverse races of this world

I strongly agree with the aforementioned observation. But, of course, all of you out there could beg to differ. In my perspective it is the differences in opinions and mentality that make our world so colourful. Or would you prefer a land of uniform colour?

Food for thoughts. For everyone :)

P/S: I like Anberlin but that does not mean I have to like all their songs. Just as I like pretty much everybody, but at the same time disproving some of their actions or reactions.

"When you love, do it for who they are. 
When you hate, don't extend it to the person, limit it to his actions"

08 May 2013

Untuk Sahabat

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

For those of us going into battle :)

Semoga terasa~

Final Say

16 April 2013

Just a thought...

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

This has been the longest break I've had from writing anything. And truth be told it was not for lack of ideas, I was just too lazy to type it out...

But lately, I've been itching to put something down on these virtual pages and that's what's got me here. I don't even have anything to say, just a need, a desire to say something.

And.... just like that I have to go. Lots to do, so little time.

So, bye!

24 February 2013


اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

The vastness of the world is something that we can never truly comprehend. Try as we may, I do not think we will ever find out the exact size of our planet, our galaxy, our universe - and in relation, we may also never figure out just how small we actually are.

I went outside tonight. And the sky I stood under, the night sky stretching overhead was simply amazing. You don't get views like these in the heart of a bustling city. Only when and where you can find enough darkness to illuminate the skies will you finally be able to call out the moon and the more elusive stars to come out and play.

But in our day and age, no man has time to 'play'. It's all a fully-automated, highly structured and dull-grey circle of endless and pointless work. No one ever looks up. So no one cares that for a fact our skies are getting emptier each day - a direct reflection of our day-to-day lives. Empty.

Complete nothingness. Absolute nothingness.

29 January 2013


اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

Give to others what you love.
Keep for yourself that which you don't love.

21 January 2013

I Will Not...

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

I will not write.
I will not tell.
I will not bother.
I will not show.
I will not show weakness.
I will not. I will not.

02 January 2013

First Agenda

اَلسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَا تُهُ

I'm currently reading Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. And true enough to the back cover, this book does contain life's most important lesson.

The essence of the pages are very direct and alarmingly common knowledge but I think because of its common nature, so many of us don't give these things a second look what more second thoughts. No. We take it as something that's been there all along and we assume these priceless lessons will always permeate our daily lives.

I too am guilty of such behaviour.

Lesson one: Being present.

We are all, at every moment, existing somewhere in space. At home, at an airport, in class, next to your family, in a car with friends, sitting in a cinema beside a stranger. We all exist. But how many of us are present?

Ask yourself that question. How often are you present out of your short 24 hour cycles?

It really is astonishing just how many of us has actually become so used to being absent even when we are physically there. Our bodies remain in that spot. Our minds - our real selves - however, are never there with us and with the person in front of us.

That, the art (or more accurately: the lost art) of being present is the first thing on my to-do list for this year. Why waste time (both yours and your loved ones) by living in a semi-automated life? Are you a human or are you less than that?

Just a little food for our thoughts. All of us.