25 things that make me happy

Bismillah. Here are the 25 things that make me happy.

1. Smell of newborn babies
2. Smell of freshly mown grass after a rainy day
3. Smell of old books
4. Smell of new books
5. Chick flick movies and novels
6. Weddings and convocation days
7. 8 hours of sleep
8. Tea
9. When someone's willing to teach you how to play that person's favourite game
10. When someone says I'm smart and that makes me all the more attractive
11. Edgar Allen Poe's poems and short stories
12. Keropok ayam
13. Karate
14. When mak ayah say they are proud of me
15. When I make people around me happy
16. Being told "I love you"
17. Video games
18. Seeing puppies
19. Looking at Zahra growing up way too fast (it scares me sometimes. I'm happy, but also scared at the same time)
20. Smell of Romano's red-bottled perfume
21. Smell of you after rain
22. Window shopping for books
23. Beaches and island
24. Sunsets and sunrises
25. Multiple naps in a day and can still sleep at night

Out with the old, in with the new?

In the name of Allah, Most Gracious and Most Merciful.


I haven't blogged for so long AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA no I wasn't that busy or anything. Finished my first draft of the first three chapters of my thesis way early during the semester. And then there were few assignments but meh no biggie I really wasn't that busy. Not in that sense at least haha. I was busy with movies, and the sims, and trying to keep my shits together basically (yes I know lol material right there).

2015 has been amazing but I wouldn't mind leaving it behind. Maybe take some pieces of it here and there and keep em as memories for future (thus the reason why photos are really really reallyyyy important). A lot of things happened in 2015. Highlights are when dad got a news he will be re-transferred to Kluang (everyone was super ecstatic by the news and I am still beyond excited), Zahra turned 1 in September, I met a poopiehead (I just friendzoned him heyooooo!) during masum, Muiz got a girlfriend, and I finally managed to go back to our house at Alor Star. Oh you know among other things.

I have no idea what to expect for 2016. And I'm not gonna lie, I am hella scared. Dudeeeee shits are going to get real soon wei and I am not sure if I am prepared for that.

Here are the lists of things which are about to freak the crap out of me:

1. Another 2 chapters for thesis. And an impeccable piece of research proposal to be sent to universities in Australia, UK, Canada, and New Zealand. Yes, US is not in the list. I don't really like that country....? Hahaha but no US for me atm. Maybe later I'll rethink about this.
   
   
2. Theater performance at the end of the semester. Dude I can't act. I'd be laughing my eyeballs out, performing in front of people. Also, I can't even dance. I'm awkward and my movements are very very robotic. And I hate crowds. There won't be any throwing up like fire hydrant scene or anything but maybe somewhere there. Can't promise anything just yet. We'll see. But if Madam Rose decides to add fighting scene in the play, I'd like to take that role please. Or else I'll be behind the scene, completely minding my own business /winky face/
   
   
3. End of semester. Going back home for good. Now what do I do? Should I do part-time jobs? Maybe teach at English Learning Centre? Or school? I have no idea. I told you I haven't figured anything out yet.
   
   
4. July. My birthday and Eid. Holy crap things just got real weh I will actually be 23 by then. My 18 year-old self had planned this out. I would be married by 23. By the time I graduate, I would probably have a baby on the way or already have one (super quick, I know. My 18 year-old self failed Biology miserably). So during my convocation, my husband (as imagined by my 18 year-old self) would be attending together with my parents. HHAHAHA AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN, MATE. Well, for one thing, my 22 year-old self has decided I am not yet ready to be with someone. Marriage is too scary for me right now -considering I've seen how my cousins have been treated by their husbands, dramas on tv and twitter, wives being treated like maids and slaves rather than life partner. Also, I don't think I'm ready to be a mother. I'm a mess myself. I cry over movies and fictional characters in novels for crying out loud and you think I have the emotional endurance to have my own baby. I love having kids, I just want to make sure I am at least 30% ready by the time I decide to copulate and have a baby. Also, poopiehead's probably coming for Eid. I'm not hoping for anything lah if he comes, okay, if he doesn't also okay.
   
   
5. No more karate tourneys for me since the next masum will be in november and I'm officially out of UM by then hmm too bad. I would miss the crap out of having people punching me in the face, seriously speaking. And I'll miss Heas the most. I have no idea how that baby of mine is going to survive without me. Hopefully she'll keep on getting gold for more tourneys to come. 

Will save this for future freak-out moments. For now I'll just freak out over my paper which will be in roughly 12 hours. Bye for now. (HAMAGAHHHH I'M FINALLY POSTING SOMETHING AFTER SO LONG)

Quick updates

In the name of Allah, Most Gracious and Most Merciful.

Haha I have nothing interesting to share. No stories, no poems, no heartbreaking or happy events whatsoever. Just quick updates on what I've been up to these last few weeks lah I think for this post.

1. My dad just got a notification last two weeks saying that he is going to be sent back to Kluang, Johor and finish off his two years of service there. So basically we will be going back to my elder brother and sister's childhood estate, and we will be staying at the same house we did back in 2007 till 2010. I love that house. It's huge and the lawn is super spacey. You can literally roll on the grass and just sleep there for as long as you want to. And the house is breezy. We had pokok rambutan and pokok durian back then but dunno if the current tenant has cut them down. Nonetheless, I love that house and I have really fond memories when it comes to Kluang. I'd love to go back there. I'm super excited. The only drawback is that I might be running into schoolmates which I have trying to avoid for as long as I could think of. Yeap, school years were nasty there and the people were nasty and people who claimed to be "my friends" weren't there when I was taunted and bullied. And the saddest thing about that is I still can't move on and get over with the pain of being ignored and unloved. But meh I'm not gonna let that ruin the fact that I'm going back to Kluang. This means I can go back home on weekends. And I can go to uthm whenever I feel like it. And I drive to Bandar Kluang. I can meet friends during pre-diploma. Woooohooooo sooo exciting!
   
   
2. I am now with a guy. Haha that sounds so wrong on so many levels. Met him during masum and now marks about 4 months -ish since we started befriending each other. Basically, he's a more collected and calmer version of me. We are about the same height haha (he gets so angry whenever I call him hobbit). He's a good friend. He tries his best to say the right thing but meh sometimes, all you have to do is say nothing, bud. He was there when I went through tough times during practicum. And I plan to be there for him during his. We'll see how things go from here. If things work out, alhamdulillah. If no, hey, at least it has been one heck of a friendship, no?
   
   
3. I am hella busy with assignments, projects, thesis, training and tournament. Other people have had worse but right now I really can't compare myself to anyone. My sleeping clock has reversed. I would go back to my room at 730pm. Then I would usually pray and eat something, then sleep till 11 or 12. Then I would start doing my stuff at 1 am ish or something. AND I HAVE THIS ONE MINI THESIS I HAVEN'T EVEN EFFIN STARTED I hate the lecturer but I'm trying my best not to flunk the subject. That reminds me. I wanted to file a formal complaint on her but was told no by my classmates so that does it.
   
   
4. A lot has been happening these past weeks. Zul graduated on 4th November. Bob and CF graduated on 27th October -had tonnes of fun visiting them at UPNM though tad bit awkward because I met somebody's ex haha. And my time will come next year inshaallah. 

So that is all. I'll probably write again when I have anything interesting to tell. Bye now. May Allah bless.

These weird few days......

Bismillah

Tonight is just one of those nights when my brain is being bombarded with a lot of things at once. And here are the list of things. You ready? Yes, I am talking to nonexistent readers. Yes I am that lame. No I won't be sharing this with anyone. Oh maybe with him. Hah! Emme you noob.

1.  I miss home. No wait, I miss my parents mostly. And I miss having all my siblings around. And these few days have been super duper emotional. I am an emotional wreck. I explode at even the littlest thing. By explode I mean cry myself to 3-hour nap. And even video clips and movies managed to make me cry a river these few days. I just cried over Bindi crying over her dad's loss for god sake. I don't even know her up close and personal. I just cried over a movie yesterday which I can't remember what. Oh it was Tomorrowland. I was laughing and crying all the same time. The lines were funny but the character was dying. So the scene was both funny and heartbreaking. Idk and these few days, it's like people know I'm about to reach that time of the month or something. They just keep on retweeting and sharing videos about fatherly love and all. And this is one of those rare moments in which I miss ayah a lot more than mak. Usually it's mak more than ayah. Or I miss both. This time I miss both but I am slightly more inclined to missing ayah. Weird pms thing I guess.
   
2. I hate fights and confrontations. Especially when there is no physical fist fights involved. Especially if the fight is mostly verbal, where we need to talk a lot to make sense of things. I hate the latter kind of fight. It's draining and exhausting. I feel the need to sleep in a very long and unnatural duration of time to regain energy after the fight. And I hate it. I usually avoid them. 16-year-old me would just come up to me right now and just punch me in the face for being so weak, for being so easily affected by mere words I swear to god. I like how I handled things back then better. The moment people pissed me off, I would just sock em in the mouth, in the guts, or in the groin, go back and sleep, and all is well.
   
3. Being adult sucks. And being ladylike sucks even more. You know what's really not fun about being an adult? You get affected by things that don't even matter to you when you were 8. 8 year-old me wouldn't have cared if a girl came up to me and say I'm ugly. I'd be brushing that comment of like a boss. But now....ugh I get so easily affected and I become so emotionally. Even I am annoyed with myself. And I'm not being insecure because I am comparing myself to others. But the insecurity surfaces because some human decides to point out hey you should change this, you should change that, you're better this way, you're better that way WHY IN THE WORLD ARE YOU ASKING ME WHY AM I BEING INSECURE when you're the one bringing me deep down that hellhole? I love you but you gotta lemme be myself. If I can accept you being you, why can't you accept me being me? Let me grow at my own pace. And I'll let you take your time too. Flowers die when you pressure them to grow. Flowers die when you put too much water. Flowers die when you put too much fertilizers. Just lemme grow at my own pace, at my own time.
   
4. I think I have reached a point in which I do things to make a person happy because I think that would make me happy. Idk if I am really being me or I am faking it all the way. And I am not sure if the person likes the real me, or the revamped version of me who does things to make the said person happy. I thought things are supposed to be effortless when you are with the right person? Why is it so complicated for me? You know what? Maybe it's too early to tell. And instead of thinking about the said person way too much, I should have thought about what would happen if I were to die tomorrow? Would I be happy with what I have done so far? Do I sin way too much? Have I done enough good? Have I touched many hearts? Is God pleased with me?

I told you I am thinking way too many things at one time these few days ugh brain stahp

Teaching practical PT 1

Bismillah

So, I just finished my teaching practical last Friday. Rejoice! No more lesson plans writing and staying up till 2 to look for materials and teaching aids now weehuu (to be honest, I kinda miss those things now that we have to do our fyp sobs) but issokey. Teaching prac was....hmmm...overwhelming in a lot of ways. It was overwhelmingly beautiful and fulfilling, and also emotionally draining.

I started teaching at SMK Sultan Abdul Samad, Petaling Jaya on 23rd June and said goodbye to my students and teachers on 4th September. I stayed there for 47 days (yes I counted. It was supposed to be 50 days but I skipped three days because of masum).

The first three weeks was a ride on a roller coaster. At first, things were all good. I thought I had everything under control. Students were nice. Form  4 students were cooperating. Form 1 students were under control. Little did I know they were just waiting for the right time to explode and show their true colours. My lecturer has warned me during my 6th semester and mentioned that I should give the impression that I am hella strict and scary the first few weeks -and me, being the idiotic, impulsive, going-against-the-system-me did not follow that. I didn't believe in that. I thought it would be better if I were to treat them like I do to my friends. There's no need to create any scary impression whatsoever. The students are going to cooperate. HAHAH wrong move, self.

Here's what happened in week 3. I was teaching about tone and mood. I repeated the same thing 6 times. I asked the students what is the difference between tone and mood. They couldn't answer. I re-explained and asked again, still couldn't answer. A lot of them were talking and chit chatting with their friends openly and LOUDLY. And I felt like I was not appreciated. Nobody listened to me (fyi I have issues with people who don't listen to me, long story). I felt like a failure. Nobody was listening. I looked for these materials online, prepared the lesson for them, printed handouts and worksheets for them AND THEY DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO LISTEN. The 4th time I repeated my question and students still couldn't answer, I threw all the handouts and worksheets to the students sitting on the front row. I packed all my stuff and ran out of class because I felt the urge to cry and I didn't want them to see. I don't want to be seen as weak. Ever. I ran to my mentor teacher (may Allah bless her and her beautiful soul). "Puan Sibyl, can I talk to you? I just walked out of 4 Damai". I had 20 mins left before my English period ended. She told me she had to go in to replace me. Then I ran to the toilet and cried in one of the cubicles. I was there for 10-15 minutes. I went back to the staff room. Some students came running and apologized to me but I was too devastated and angry, I ignored them. One of the trainee teachers told them to go back to class and come again later. She said I looked like I was about to kill someone -that's how angry I was.

Puan Sibyl came to me and I followed her to the school library and we talked. I was crying again (wow no surprise there, self). She asked me why do I want to teacher. "I want to inspire and touch people's hearts". And she said that was a good intention. She shared me her experience when she was first posted to a school. I calmed down a bit. The next day, I had another two periods with the same class. I came in class with not even a single smile. I pasted their mahjong papers for presentation and I told them to identify at least 1 simple, compound, and complex sentences respectively. It was so quiet I could hear the sound of the fan whirring. Throughout the lesson, whenever I heard students snickered and whispered, I looked at them and asked them "did I ask you to speak?". One of the students got really scared of me when I asked him who asked him to sit. Another student counted how many times I smiled throughout that lesson. He saw once, I remember once. The lesson was super rigid and very teacher-centered but that managed to get them in line, to regain the respect.  I went back to the staff room with a big smile on my face. It felt like a huge success. I managed to quiet a class of 45 students -even the permanent teachers there can't do that DUDEEEEEEE.

The class which I mentioned earlier

Week 4 to 11 were all okay. There were moments in which I screamed, threw the duster at students (among other things) but they were not as bad as the first 3 weeks. They have taught me a lot of things. They have taught me I have to be really patient and that patience will be rewarded with trust. They have also taught me the best solution to a lot of things is to listen, that's all. And hugs are always helpful. If I were to list down everything they have taught me, oh wow this post will never come to an end.

I will continue this in the next post (HAHA like there are people reading you talking about your life excuse me you think your life is interesting izzit?)

OK may Allah bless. Have a great week! 

Unrealistic expectations and standards set upon future partners got me like WHUUUUUUUT

In the name of Allah the Most Gracious and Most Merciful

Yes I have a test at 1 tomorrow and another on Thursday. And yes I haven't even started studying yet. But this thing about setting such high expectations and standards upon future partners has been bugging me since forever.

I don't know how to categorize myself. I am NEITHER those typical gadis melayus who wear baju kurung all the time, like super feminine and know their ways around kitchen and are great with older people NOR those girls who feel uncomfortable wearing baju kurung, extremely tomboyish, and have no idea how to cook or communicate and joke around with the elderly. Yeah I may be a bit tomboyish and sometimes I think baju kurung is created just for the sake of limiting my steps and curbing me from raising my feet above my knees. But I do know my way around kitchen and I can cook (some if not many) types of food.

I just read the other day about this one guy thinks that girls who are unable to do basic electric and pipe repairing, can't cook and do chores and take care of kids, wake up super late as incompetent to be his future wife. I don't mind people setting such expectations and standards upon their future partners. I do get it; you are going to live with this person for the rest of your life (if your jodoh with that person is panjang lah). But, are you as much as equipped as your future wife? Can you do basic electric and pipe repairing? Can you cook and do laundry and tend to your future children? Do you wake up early everyday?

All I am saying is that, we should all know our place. We too are incompetent in some areas. And what is wrong with learning how to cook and do chores after married? Doesn't that prove that your significant other is willing to change for the better for you, for your own good, to make you happy?

Girls too, sometimes forget our place, don't we? We want boys who are like super religious, and handsome and basically have perfect character. I personally want my future husband to be a non-smoker, has long hair and/or beard, pray five times a day, and know how to do basic chores like laundry and washing dishes. However, I was told all these characteristics I want in my future husband to be unrealistic and too good to be true. I, sadly, have to agree with the aforementioned statement. It is true. I have seen my cousins whale around in front of tv while their wives and mothers are jumping and running around the kitchen, serving them food in front of their faces, tending them hand to foot. This sight angers me. I don't want my family to be like this.

If the said notion were to be practiced in the 80's, I would agree. But right now, we have women who have careers. What is wrong with sharing and doing chores together? Rasullulah SAW helped his wives sewing and taking care of the kids while they were busy cooking.

I was told many times that I would never have anyone to seek for my hand in the future because I am too outspoken for my good. I speak my mind and criticize everything I see whenever I have my chances to do so. I don't think I should cook just because it is compulsary for girls to learn how to feed their future husbands. Rather I think I should cook because I wanna to. I don't think guys can sit around and do nothing while girls stay in the kitchen because that's where they belong. My cousins said guys don't like girls who are too tomboyish, independent and smart. You know what? I don't give a damn. I am not going to succumb to the social convention that dictates me to be feminine, domestic goddess, and obedient. You want that kind of wife, you go ahead and find one. Don't tell me what I need to be and I needn't be.

I don't know where am I going with this but I hope you see my point. Have a nice day.

So I wrote a poem

#np Sarah Kay's poem, "If I should have a daughter ...". 

Bismillah. 

So I wrote a poem that defies (I think) 90% of the rules on how to write a poem. I put the title as "I Imagine". 

Tell me what you think of the poem. I'm not the Yoda of poetry but you know, I gotta try. So here goes.

I Imagine

I imagine you having

this pair of dark brown eyes,

that would melt me in a millisecond;

this wavy long jet black hair,

wishing I can run my fingers through it;

this perfectly-shaped nose,

so perfect I just want to pinch it every time I see you.

I imagine you 

scrunching up your nose

every time you think really hard.

Also, you waking up next to me

every morning, till the day I die.

And you hogging the comforter all to yourself

because it is so cold outside.

Plus, us, cuddling under comforter on rainy days,

And you giving me silent treatment

for every time I screw up;

giving me multiple bear hugs every day

no matter how much I say I hate hugging.

Of course I will always want to

snuggle under your armpit,

putting your tie even though I'm bad at it,

do laundry and cook with you,

share your earphone and listen to your favourite songs,

debate over coffee and tea,

I imagine you saying:

"Your best feature is your lips",

"You look spectacular!" 

even though I look like a train wreck

"You be the Player 1 today!"

"Let's go shop for more books!"

"We should buy more bookshelves.."

among other things.

I know it's a tough life ahead

We are going to fight,

disagree, and

throw ultimatums. 

So, here's my promise:

I promise

to always snuggle under your armpits

through good days and bad,

make you coffee and put on your tie,

let you be the Player 1,

for as long as you want to.

Fitting in

Bismillah

Remember those years in high school when you feel the need and urge to change yourself just to fit in with anyone who's willing to be your friend? Sadly, this fitting in business did not strike me when I was in school. I was always so sure of myself. I didn't depend so much on people's definition of what I do or what I wear. Sure, there were days in which I wanted to dress up and look pretty but those moments were really infrequent I could hardly recall them. I was really independent back in those 5 years of high school. I didn't mind doing things on my own. I didn't mind being left alone to attend to my business. I didn't mind not going to the cinema to catch the latest movies with my friends or my classmates. I didn't care about having boys chasing me. I didn't care about how boys saw me as one of them, as one of their bros rather than as a girl. I was carefree. And I was happy. I was content even though to others, this very definition of living is mundane, boring, not worth living whatever.

Why was it so easy back then?

It's so difficult to be in my own skin now. I got criticized for everything I do, everything I wear. They aren't all exactly verbal and to my face. I can see the look in people's eyes when I wear my baju kurung with a pair of sneakers and my messenger bag. I can see how people judge me upon seeing me wearing a set of attires that aren't colour-coordinated.

And there is nothing wrong with me not knowing what is concealer and how to use eyeliner, or randomly talking to a street painter, or finding a bench while you have the time of your life shopping with your best buds. I was miserable the whole time. I wish I could tell you this. But oh well, I am a wimp. You'll know we're not close and I don't really like you if I don't open up to you on how I feel about things.

I don't want to fit in. I want to be able to be myself. If I don't open up, if I change my attire, if I have second thoughts on what to do or how to act -you know I don't fit in there, with you and your cliques.

2014? Hmm let's see

Bismillah

You know how sometimes you have lived long enough but you only not to do or do few thing? You only remember things that you want to or were conditioned to?

I remember a lot of things since I can first start remembering stuffs.

I remember how my mom scrubbed on a red chili on my face because I said this one bad word. My sister was teasing me and I called her that and my mom happened to hear me said the word. She ran around the house chasing after me. She then pinned me with her arm and to cut the story short, my first makeup was a lipstick made out of chili. I ended up crying myself to sleep. First because the heat from the chili stung my lips. Second because my sister didn't get punished or anything for teasing me. I hated my mom for few hours. When I woke up, all was well again. But starting from that time, I tried my best not to use bad words no matter how angry or mad I am about something.


I also remember the first time I tried cycling. I got a dark purple Le-Run bicycle. Bicycle is like the in-thing for children that age. Oh yeah, I was seven. I got the bicycle for my 7th birthday. The bicycle had no bell (all the more reason why I loved it) and it came with the two wheels at the back to stabilize the bicycle for beginners. Well, being the impulsive brat I was (still am), I told my brother to take the stabilizers off because I didn't like having them there. They made it hard for me to do laps and go in circles. It was my first day of cycling. He took off the stabilizers and hold the sit and the handles. He told me to pedal the bicycle and go straight. I did. And when I thought I could handle the whole cycling shenanigans, I told him to let go. And he did. Dude, it was exhilarating. I was cycling around. For the first time, I was fearless. I felt like nothing could go against me. Then, came a car. I was trying to go left and the car also wanted to go the same way. I forgot to ask my brother how to stop the bicycle. I ended up going way too fast and the next thing, I was literally flying. My bicycle rammed into the left front tyre of the car and I had both of my knees scrapped real bad. Oh and my elbows too. Bloods were everywhere. My green shorts were covered with patches of blood from the wounds on my knees. The lady (she was pregnant and she had a child with her in the car oh dear lord what have I done) asked me if I was okay. I was so scared my mom would be losing her marbles, I took my bicycle and cycled as fast as I could back home. I was panicking dude what do you expect me to do. I did what any impulsive and short-minded seven year old would do. I ran straight to the bathroom and showered, washing away all the evidence saying I had hit a pregnant lady. I put on long sleeved shirt and long pants. I went downstairs and saw the lady in front, talking to my mom. Few seconds later, mom went inside. I was about to cry because I was afraid mom would flip knowing I rammed into the lady's car. But mom didn't. Instead, she asked me if I was okay and told me to remove the shirt and pants so she can put on minyak gamat on the wounds. All was well again. The next day, I started cycling again.


When I was 8, my dad got my sister and I each a pair of rollerblades. Mine was blue and my sister's was red. We didn't know how to rollerblade. None of us did including my eldest brother. So we just did trial and error. I fell on my face, on my back, on my knees, on my head. Basically I fell on anything and everything. But I didn't stop. I kept on rollerblading. Until at some point, I stopped because the other kids started having other obsession that was playing badminton. I fell too many times, wounds were literally everywhere. And I got fresh wound  every day during that time. Mom and dad didn't know what to say to make me stop. I had a theory in which they didn't want me to stop falling on my face because they wanted me to learn.


I had this one best friend when I was 5. He was the only who called me Aina when everybody else called me by my pet name. We would play together whenever we had time. He couldn't go out much because his mother didn't let him. So I would go to his house just to ask for his mother's permission to let him out. We played with anything we could find around us. Sometimes, we just talked. We were like that till I moved to another state. I met him again when I was 9. He called me by a different name because everyone else called me the latter name. I didn't like it. But I didn't say anything. And the friendship wasn't as fun as when we were 5. We were competing for better marks in subjects and better rankings in class. We were on each other's throat every time we met. But I still went to his house on the weekends just to ask for his mother's permission to let him out. We lost contact after my family moved to another state. I started looking for him again when I was 18. I searched for his name on the internet but nothing popped up. Nobody could ever replace him. He was there when I didn't need him. We were trying hard to kill each other but we didn't. Ever since I lost him, I never find someone who is as great and cool as him.


High school was a difficult time for me, so I'd rather not reminisce about it.

I met someone when I was 16. Well, not literally met. He got my number from some magazine. And he was the only who could handle me being my usual obnoxious and impulsive self. We were close in a short time. He was there when nobody else wasn't. People don't understand why I still like him even though he crushed my heart to pieces. He was there telling me stuffs to make me happy. He was there to encourage me to be better, to study harder. And I never met him until I was 20. I had a crush on him after 2 years of knowing him. I told him I liked him when I was 19. That was the first time and he neither rejected nor accepted my whatever-it-is-you-call. When I was 20, I told him again. This time, he told me he liked someone. I helped him with the girl. I did that outta our friendship. We were so close, his family knew about me. His sister texted me at 0540 to tell me he was hospitalized because he broke his femur in an accident. I met him for the first time in the hospital. He was bedridden and drugged. I don't even know till this day whether he remembers how I look. We were still good friends after that. I encouraged him to keep on doing the physiotherapy and stuffs, to never skip on meals and pills.There were times when he almost gave up and I stayed with him just like he did when I was down in the dumps. He told me about the girl whom he had a crush on. He told me he had given up on the girl. I thought I had a chance. January 2014, I am 21, I asked him again, subtly confessing to him I still like him. And this time, he said he already had someone. I was....angry. That Monday, I went to the gym just to have my knuckles busted after infinity numbers of punching the punching bag there. I lost a good friend that day. I couldn't handle the thought of him being happy with someone else that isn't me. I couldn't handle the thought of him able to move on so quick form his former crush. I couldn't handle the thought of him seeing me only as a friend, and his bro.  I couldn't handle the thought of not having him when I had already planned a lifetime with him. I was broken beyond repair that day. I thought things are gonna get better. But looking from my state, I beg to differ. That was the first time I really like someone. I offered him my heart and ended up having it stomped million times into pieces.

I don't know why but as I get older, I lost the optimism and the positive energy I once had. I used to be able to fall and have wounds and blood all over but could still go around smile like a goof and live the life as if it was the best day of my life. I lost the happiness I had in me. I lost the enthusiasm and passion to live the best life every. I lost the force I had in me.

What ever happened to that impulsive, obnoxious, and happy little kid?

So here's my resolution for awal muharram and for the new year that is 2015: I want to be happy and content again. And this time I am not going to depend on people to be happy. Instead, I am going to depend on Allah. Because I know, He will never disappoint me. Ever.

2015, do your thing. I'm gonna own yo ass.

Bismillah

It's never fun, you know, when you are just giving out your opinions and people mistaken them for something else. And apparently, at this moment of the time, not many university students like to talk about politics. To them, it's a waste of time and a distraction for them to learn in class. But you know what? That's fine. Everyone has the right to express their feelings, everyone is entitled to the freedom of speech. So that's fine. And I'm trying to celebrate individual differences.

So, last Monday (3rd November) was kinda a bad day for me. I mean, not in a way it went on and stuffs. It went on fine. Until a read a series of tweets from some juniors criticizing me and telling me to "shut the fuck up". I'm not here to act like some senior who is a know-it-all, a moving-information-counter or anything. I know things as much as my juniors do. Heck, I think some of them know more things than I do.

It all started this morning in the philosophy and education class. The lecturer was talking about how there is freedom in UM because there's no curfew and stuffs. And I didn't completely agree with that (still don't completely agree to that). I mean, yeah sure, the students are free to come back to their colleges at any time they one. And the freedom stops there. I don't see any freedom of speech, or freedom of expression. I cited few examples and said the name Fahmi Zainol (which is now a taboo in UM). I don't completely support the whole event. There are some things that are worth highlighting in the programme. And the fact that the administration decided to stop the students from going to the event, to me, gave students all the more reasons to go there and see it for themselves. The examples just happened to be there. I was not showing any support to any political bodies.

I was said to be distracting the whole class by talking about politics and sharing my opinions and the issue. I was told to "shut the fuck up". I was said to "menyemak in that class and I shouldn't be there". And I was said to be sarcastic and labeling those who don't support the opposition party as "macai". I was cited to be so outspoken. I was told I shouldn't be there in that class with them.

So here's my way of explaining myself and my stance. I'm not there to educate the juniors, nor telling them who to support and not support. I'm not there to diss them and be sarcastic of their choices and opinions. I mean, I geddit, you could have gone through events that have made you lose your faith in this one political body. I have never used the word "fuck" to anybody and I know this might be unrealistic but I expect the same thing from other people. If I don't call you "bitch" for having that sour and uptight expression on your face, you don't have the right to throw the word "fuck" to my face. I have all the rights to be in that class. You saying I shouldn't be there just prove that you don't think I don't have the right to education. Like excuse me, did you learn nothing throughout the 7 weeks of lecture in the philosophy class? Oh that's right, you're too busy flaunting you phone and tweeting how your life is important and how others' are mediocre and uninteresting. Yeah, now I'm being sarcastic. I have the right to be in that class. I have the right to voice out my opinion. I have the right to ask questions, and question you. I pay my fees as much as you do. So who are you to tell me I shouldn't be in that class? When I said "macai", I didn't refer it to you. It was just an answer to the lecturer's talking about how some people are too extreme in fighting for the political bodies. Bro, you supporting opposition party doesn't mean you are a macai. Get your definition right. If you feel like I was referring to you, girl, you're in for no treat. Stop feeling like the universe revolves around and only you. I don't have the time to entertain your childish insecurities and inferiority issues.

You know what? I'm done  being nice to you. You can be bitchy all you want. I'm gonna pretend like things are fine and there's nothing wrong. My life's great. Why would I let some stuck-up, bitchy girl dictate my whole life?

A Letter to My Son by Munierah Ainaa Mukhtar

I would like to dedicate this letter to my future hypothetical child. I know being a youth is difficult. It is a phase full of struggles, feeling of rebellion and anger. And I would like him to know, I get him and I hope these words can at least calm him down and make him think. So here goes.

Dear son,

You are going to be 19 today! Buckle up, son. Life is going to be harder. I know by now, you have already felt pieces of it. I know sometimes you just want to cry, you want to take life away from your own body, you want to throw yourself off the roof, you want to hide under your bed and never come out. I know sometimes you feel depressed, you feel like nobody understands you, you feel like your friends are not listening to you. I understand that sometimes you feel helpless. You are crying for help, banging your head on the wall but nobody seems to care. But dear, know this. Your dad and I will always care about you. Allah cares about you. That is why He is testing you. You are a brave, strong man. I know you are, because you are mine.

I know you are struggling. You are trying to do what is right but the world is against you. It’s like everybody is ganging up on you, pulling you to an alley and trying to beat you to death for standing up for what is right. You are trying to strive for the eternal life but nobody your age seems to get that and that is making you uncomfortable and depressed. Son, I want you to know, I once felt the same way too. And I want you to know, you are not alone. Allah is with you. Your dad and I are with you. If not next to you, we will forever be in your heart for as long as you want us to be there. 

I understand, son. Sometimes, you want to have a little bit of fun. Seeing your friends all have girlfriends and boyfriends next to them, you want that also. You see your friends smoking, part of you wants to try inhale the smoke from the cancer stick as well. Sometimes, you go to shopping mall with your friends and suddenly they are holding hands and hugging their girlfriends without feeling even a slight hint of embarrassment and your curiosity is fighting hard against you. Part of you wants to try lots of things, things that are against what you have been taught and believed that are right. And there are days when your friends tell you it is okay to watch porn on the internet. It is just a one-time thing.

But love, know this: once you sin, you will always feel the “need” to sin again. Sometimes, your “curiosity” needs to be shushed down with recitation of Qurans, zikr and solah. But it’s okay, dear. Allah is Most Forgiving and Most Merciful. If you repent with all your heart, I am sure Allah will forgive you. You are strong, dear. That is why you were born. You are the chosen one among millions in my womb and you are mine. Allah chose you to be His slave and His caliph on this earth. It is stated in Surah Az-Zariyat: 56, “And I have created the Jinn and the men only for this that they may worship Me.” We are not living here for any reason, dear. We have an aim. “And We did not create the heaven and the earth and that between them aimlessly” (As-Sad: 27). 

There is a reason for everything created on this Earth.  I know those roles sound heavy and full of responsibilities. But fear not, love, there will be guidance from Allah, hadiths left by Rasulullah PBUH and his friends, and other muslims and mukmins. You will be okay. It will be a very bumpy road to Jannah, but you will be okay. I am sure of it because Allah will take very good care of you and your pure heart.

Sweetie, everyone wants to enter Jannah. Nobody wants to be thrown into hellfire especially if everybody has seen how it looks like (insert Quran verse here). I have been telling you Allah puts the good people in Jannah and you have to be good in order to be there. Son, you are almost there. Just a bit more, don’t give up now. I know you are tired now, exhausted of everything that you just want to give up. Don’t, dear! Rasulullah PBUH and his friends are waiting for you in Jannah. Fight hard now, son. 

Nobody says it is a pleasant rat race when it comes to entering Jannah. Instead, Allah told us to work together to strive for a place in Jannah. Thus the term “hablu minallah hablu minannas”, dear. It means, “do good to Allah, as well as to humans”. Is that not beautiful? Think again, love. Why would Allah put you in this world and let you roam on His Earth with other humans? To annoy you? To test you? No, dear son. He is giving you a chance to do good to other people. He is giving all of us a chance to “use” these people for our benefits in the Hereafter. I’m sure you know very well the barter system –our good deeds will be redeeming points for us to go to Jannah. 

You help a blind man crossing the road, give food to the homeless, help me in the kitchen –all of this is not going to go to waste. Allah values and appreciates every single good deed and counts every bad deeds of ours be it they are as small as sand on the beach or as huge as Godzilla swatting planes. You know the movie! Your dad and I thought it was funny. Everything counts. Now, what makes you think living is useless? 

Honey, I am not questioning your sanity or your credibility. But you are too young to give up on life. You are a teenager. There are a lot more good things you have not yet discovered. Don’t you think it would be a waste to give up living and end your life right now when you are just blossoming and starting to get the grasp of life? Allah loves you. That is why He puts you through these series of trials. 

You are young, vibrant and full of energy and I love you for that. You want to see the change? Be the change! Remember what you told me about Gandhi? You quoted from a book “Be the change you want to see” and you said Gandhi said that. Now be the change you want to see. Don’t worry, baby. I know the world is a scary place to live in. But I’m here, with your dad to support you and be there when you feel like you have had enough. Allah will always be there with you. Know this, baby, this world is not made to be comfortable and filled with happiness. Allah has made this temporary world to be tough on you so you will work harder to strive for the best that will remain for eternity in Jannah.

No matter how many times I keep telling myself you are still my baby and you are still fragile, and you need me to protect you, I have to face the fact that you are getting older and wiser. You are stronger than I think you are. I think you are going to be fine, facing the days ahead of you as a youth and be the change you want to see. Honey, happy 19^th birthday! We love you.

Love,

Ummi.

P/S I tried sending this for a competition but didn't win but that's okay. 

Nah my explanation

Bismilllahirrahmanirrahim

Dear Allah gives me strength, give me endless patience, give me the courage to keep on going no matter what.

Can I cuss all I want just this one time? And can you not judge me just this one time? After this you can do all you want.

Right now I am in a situation where I am pushed by everyone around me into a hole I am literally suffocating, catching my breath. I am pushed by people. I am provoked. People are testing my limits. Wallahi if this keeps on going, I am going to burst into flames and start flinging poops and bad words at everybody. We don't want that, do we?

This last few months have been.... tough? Yes, tough. Allah has been sending me all these people to test my patience, to test my limit. And I have no idea until when will I be able to put on this brave face (lol brave ke?)

I got rejected last week for the second time by the same guy. Well, it's okay. I'll get over him. No worries with that. I am still okay even though I cried a tear or two. I am still okay even though thinking about it makes me feel nauseous and sick. I am still okay even after I busted my right knuckle real bad. I think I am gonna be okay.

And now this week, urgh, I dunno where to start. I left a group on whatsapp and suddenly everyone started freaking out /insert Joker's meme here/ Okay, know this people. I am really really awkward. I am a recluse. I am really bad at making new friends. And I am bad at telling people what I want. I like being alone. There are days when I feel like not talking to anyone. Can't you respect my space? I don't ask much. Just let me have my space and time without you hoarding and pestering me with questions like "Are you okay?" or "Why did you leave the group?" or other things like whether I am offended by anything or whatever.

"Idk that your big brain could not figure that out. You think you are too good to hang around us. You don't have to think twice to bail out because you have nothing to lose. Because we are not cool enough to tag along with people like you."

What do you do when you got that message on a beautiful and sunny Sunday morning? Go.


Okay, first off mister, we all have the same mass of brain. There's no such thing as big brain. You and I, both of us have the same size of brain.  Second, I have never chosen what kind of people I hang out with. I lepak with everyone. I like being alone, yes. I am bad at making friends, yes. But not up to the point where I choose who I befriend with. Those people in the group, I like them all. The girls, I love them, I adore them. I know them, even though not so well. The boys, even though there are things I dislike about them, that's okay. They have qualities that help me to overlook the bad qualities I dislike in them. I bail out from the Whatsapp group because, as I told you, I don't feel like talking to anyone AT THAT TIME. I have nothing to lose. True. Because I know, in the end, it's gonna be between me and Allah and that is it. But that does not mean I don't cherish our friendship. That does not mean I want to chuck whatever we have into the bin. I don't choose friends. But somehow, some of those whom I have met, it is so easy for me to click with them. Because we share same stories, we can relate to each other, we can empathize, we help each other a lot. How would you expect me to do the same for you when we only know each other for a while? And fourth, if you think you are not cool enough, then that is your problem. How is that my problem? I don't ask you to tag along? What friend ask their friends to follow them? I want you not to tag along, but walk with me, walk by my side.

And I would like to repeat my last message to you again:

"Did it not ever occur to you that sometimes when people are being provoked continuously, they will reach a point where they are too tired to explain about anything?"

 I am tired. I am tired of making people understand my situation. I am tired of making people see my point. I don't feel like explaining to you because in the end, you are going to judge me. In the end you are going to twist everything I say. I am gonna save myself from being hurt. I open up to you and you judge me. What other option do I have, really? Tell me. I don't want to explain to you because I know I will end up cussing. Well, who wants that? Nobody. I don't want to add another pile of sins to my already infinity numbers of sins. 

I have no idea if this explains everything. But... hmm, tak kisahlah. I am done explaining.

May Allah bless.

P/S for once, I just wanna befriend people for the sake of it instead of keep on pursuing for rewards from Allah. Why can't you get it?

#np Love Like This

Love is when your mom asks you whether you have eaten even though you are literally separated by Laut China Selatan.

Love is when you dad asks you whether you have enough money to go on for the rest of the semester.

Love is when your mom tells you things are going to be okay even though at the moment, nothing is okay.

Love is when you dad tells you to tell him if you like someone so he can give few words to him.

Love is when your mom sends you tonnes of food every time she visits you.

Love is when your mom and dad are willing to bring food from Sarawak to you, staying in Kuala Lumpur.

Love is when your mom and dad buy you books because they know you like reading.

Love is when your mom and dad tell you to take care of yourself and your heart.

Love is when your mom and dad tell you to never skip prayers and always read Quran.

Love is when Allah gives you these two awesome people in your life to make it less painful and more bearable.

Love is when your siblings make fun of you for not liking some things. Like the colour pink.

Love is when your siblings are willing to spend their book voucher for you because they know you love reading.

Love is when you have a hankering for something and your siblings are willing to attend to it.

Love is when your friends call you straight back when they hear something's off with your voice.

Love is when your friends ask you every day whether you are okay or not.

Love is when your friends tell you things are going to be okay. Shit happens, but it's gonna be okay.

Love is when your friends are willing to do things they don't like just because you like them and wanna do those things with them.

Love is when you are willing to accept rejection(s) from a person whom you thought is your "the one" like an adult and not thinking of breaking his jaw with your bare hands.

Love is sacrifice.
Love is family.
Love is friend.

And the greatest of all kinds of love would be love towards Allah the Almighty.
In the name of Allah the Most Merciful and Most Gracious.

In loving memories

In the name of Allah, Most Merciful and Compassionate.

I lost my Tok exactly 8 months and 7 days ago. She died 8 days after my 20th birthday. I didn't tell lots of my friends about my loss. Some knew about it. They tried to make me feel better. But honestly, I didn't feel anything during that time. I felt normal. I felt like nothing changed. I know she is dead, but that didn't change anything.

I wasn't numb. I was in denial. And that period of denial lasted for 8 months and 7 days. I cried this afternoon. Actually, I was sobbing.

I was reading Looking for Alaska by John Green. Honestly I had been looking for reasons to cry over the death of Tok. But I couldn't find any. And that book was a trigger. I sobbed after the part where Alaska died. At least Miles got the chance to say he loves her. But I didn't. I never really said it out loud.

Tok took care of me for a very long time. She cried when she saw Mak hitting me. She slept with me and told me stories when she came to our house. Honestly, I looked forward to her coming to our house. I love her, but I never said it out loud.

I love it when everyone says she loved me the most. I love it when she kept on rubbing my back before I went to sleep. I love it when she said "Alhamdulillah" when I told her about my mediocre academic performance. To her, everything I did was awesome.

But as she got older, she slowly lost herself. Dementia slowly ate her brains out. I love her but there were days when I felt like I couldn't stand a sight of her. My sister and I, we took care of her for several weeks. But, that was it. There were no follow-ups or anything. 6 months after that, she died in hospital and I didn't get the chance to say goodbye or I love you.

In loving memories of Hjh Saodah Hj Senapi

. 

 

I love you, Tok.
Strong woman, strict mother, loving grandmother.
I hope you are happy there in Jannah.
Al-fatihah.

Ranting of the year

In the name of Allah the Most Merciful and Most Gracious

1. 2013 has been a great year. Technically, the greatest and the worst.

2. I am officially 20 last July. So, that is a good thing. My brother is getting married this December 24th, another good thing. I have finally found my enthusiasm in teaching. Yay! Mom has been and will always be the greatest human being. Dad shares the same spot with Mom. I'm getting another sister. No, my dad and mom are not procreating. Haha.

3. However, with good things raining in, there are also bad things that just make me want to dump my head in the nearest trashcan. First semester as a sophomore students is difficult. We used to have so many cool and awesome lecturers back in our freshman year. And now, there is this one lecturer that just make me want to asphyxiate and choke myself to death. She is.... no I am not going to say bad things about her here. Dosa bro. I have enough to carry on my left shoulder.

4. In short, she is so annoying there were times when I actually ball up my fist to punch her. And I am not proud of thinking of killing her. Mom could be right. Maybe I have been too annoying. Shouldn't have volunteered to be class rep for her class. Whichever, whatever happens, I hope she's going to be a better lecturer next semester, doing her job honestly lillahi taala. Insyaallah.

5. Oh yeah, another bad thing. I have lost the excitement to sit in usrah. Aliya help me.

Barakallahu feek.

22112013

Dear You.

Hey.

You write poems, 

I write craps.

You can tolerate coffee,

But I only drink tea.

We both have been through hell,

and lived.

Say, is it too late to ask,

Whether,

You want to be my friend?

Sekarang kalau aku marah, tak puas hati, nak memberontak, aku cuma guna body language. Aku tunjuk muka marah, muka tak puas hati. Yang paling pondan, aku marah sampai meleleh air mata setitik dua. Not sure if that is a good sign. Kalau dulu aku marah, kerusi meja semua aku campak. Siapa buat aku marah, memang aku tumbuk tampar maki. Tapi dulu aku rasa kepala aku lagi ringan. Sekarang, bila aku simpan banyak banyak macam gunung berapi, orang keliling senang. Tapi aku tak tenang.

Not sure if this is a good sign or vice versa. Whichever, may Allah bless.

20

In the name of Allah, Most Merciful and Most Compassionate.

Look, Google acknowledged my birthday!  Wow, I can't believe I am 20. I have to be grateful for lots of things. I am grateful for lots of things. For the things I got and didn't get. People are so nice, sending wishes through Whatsapp, Kik Messenger, Twitter, Facebook, text message. Thank you very much for the wishes.

6 years ago, I started fasting.
3 years ago, I celebrated my 18th birthday with my ex-roommates back in Lendu.

Happy moments

In the name of Allah, Most Merciful and Most Compassionate

Hi guys, it has been so long since I last posted something decent here. How's it hanging? Oh well, my life has been hectic these few weeks. Happy and sad things happened. Oh well, that is life. So last fortnight, I went to UPNM with my parents and Angah and Mujib to register my little brother, Muiz there. He's taking Asasi Kejuruteraan there, doing latihan for pegawai kadet something. It was a lot of fun sending him there. I got the chance to see war dance and it was super cool. But... it was kinda sad leaving my little brother behind. Guess he isn't so little anymore. I asked my mom whether she felt like he grows up way too quick and mom didn't say a word. Guess that she was sad at that time too. I felt so overwhelmed for a week, now I am a bit okay I think. I have few friends there so I can ask for their help to look after my baby brother. I guess it felt different because he couldn't call us anytime he wants, and we can't visit him at any time. It's like sending him to a prison. But... all is well. A new friend of mine said that I should be proud because my family is sacrificing him to protect Malaysia. We are proud of you, Muiz. Here are some pictures. Hihi

That's me and that's muiz in the white shirt. Trying to be a big sister, but failed haha.

Messing round with Mujib, the littlest in the family haha. We were waiting for mom and dad and Muiz

Overall, it was a happy weekend. My mom and dad and Mujib stayed at UM for the whole weekend and that Monday. So Monday wasn't so painful as usual haha. And last Saturday, my eldest brother got engaged. He is 25 now. His fiancee is 25 too. I guess it is the right time for them to get engaged. They have been together for so long anyway.

Me and Angah. Alang wasn't there because she didn't have study week and her final exam started the next day.

Angah, me and Kak Hani. Welcoming Nurul Hani Roslan into Mukhtar and Zaiton's legacy hihi.

And right now, gotta struggle for final exam. That is all peeps. May Allah bless!