a visit to my past

bismillah

today I've got the chance to visit my old college, and really, where and when it all began.
right when I lay my eyes on the familiar landscape, I started to feel somewhat at home.
how I miss that place.
and felt pretty great when those great people of my past can still remember me.
oh well, at least recognize my face, since I am quite a silent type.
I just often appear during functions and events, snapping away snapshots of the event, or tweaking the projector and speakers and stuffs, silent, most of the time.
I find me feeling amused with myself, that I happened to go and greet and had a brief chat with a teacher who didn't even teach me, and quite a sustainable one too.
but yeah, as you can expect, she did most of the talking.
some still had our class pictures, know our names, started talking about who's got married and stuff.
and I have to say, I'm quite ashamed that I failed to remember the name of quite a number.
well, as they always say, "Cikgu memang ingat student, student yang tak ingat cikgu..."

of all those teachers, there's this one particular teacher whom I'm eager to meet.
I guess I respected her the most. she was also the advisor of a club that I'm actively participated.
a club which was created for the purpose of da'wah, really.
she took care of us, really concerned about us, not just academically but also on some personal level, the sort of relationship you don't get to have when in university.
she even took me to the club's meeting, just so that I can see how they are, and probably to let me share something. and I did. just a few snippets from my mind that I think they should know, which turned out to be a bit like a tazkirah. (saw a girl somewhat drowsy as I started talking... T___T).
can't help but think, how I've changed since then.
I wouldn't have the courage to talk to them if it was years back.

then as we went to the masjid for zuhr prayer, I can't help but smile, reminiscing the old times.
the white screen and projector of which our batch has collected money to donate to the masjid.
the verandah where the tabligh team would usually have their meetings, the other side of the masjid where our "rival" would have their usrah, the back verandah where we would just sit back and recite ma'thurat after 'asr prayer and tazkirah by anyone who would want to volunteer, while some of us would rest our head on a friend's lap, or listening to Ustaz Zahazan's tafseer on IKIM at 6.30am after fajr.

and there it is, that particular spot where we would usually have our usrah, on lazy Friday afternoons...
that particular time when things sort of start to slow down as everybody take that chance to indulge into a deep slumber, welcoming the weekend.
it was often a battle, trying to reason myself to leave my bed to go to usrah. oh well, sometimes I'm the one going from room to room of my usrahmates', to wake them up, but most of the time for the sole reason that I won't go there alone, fearing the awkward moment that was often present if I were to be left alone with my naqib. he's quite the silent type himself, so silent meets silent equals to cricket sounds louder than us.

sometimes I do wonder if he purposely chose that particular time, as a tarbiyah for us to learn to choose between the should or the want. if he did, alhamdulillah, he succeeded in that. choose iman over nafs. alhamdulillah, thummal hamdulillah for the chance for me to get tarbiyah.

well, 4 years has passed since I've left the college, and so it seems I haven't advanced much from where I left off. but nonetheless, I've learnt a lot when I was abroad, which shaped me into who I am today. alhamdulillah for His Plannings. He is indeed the Best of Planner.

alhamdulillah for that trip. I kinda needed it.
rejuvenated my spirit in some way, alhamdulillah.
one more year left for me to leave a mark in my current university.
one more year left to build a foundation in me, so that I'll be steadfast in this deen and da'wah.
insyaaAllah.
I need to make the best of it.
insyaaAllah.

Introspecting me

Ear candy : Good time-Owl City

I’m just going to record this for the sake of memory. I’ve developed a routine now that I’m starting to get used to living in this house. I’ve timed how long it took me to get to class from this house and it took me 15 minutes plus minus a minute. I usually walk when I don’t ask for a lift from Kak W.

When it was time for me to walk on my own, I thought the journey home was gonna suck because it seemed so far but funny thing is, I seem to enjoy the walk. Perhaps the loneliness of missing my husband badly turned what was supposed to be something difficult into something enjoyable. It became like a walk in the park, and well literally I WAS walking though not in the park. I’m starting to lose my train of thought so let me just get back to where I left off.

Even living in this house feels as natural as drinking water. The minute I get home I’ll usually get things settled, usually my personal chores and took my afternoon shower. Then I’ll start on my revision or studying and I find the solitude in this room of 4 people calming. Perhaps I’m combating the loneliness that I felt by keeping myself occupied and this is good I think. At least it’s getting me to study.

The only time that I dread is when I had to go out of the room because that’s when I will have to face the other 6 or less people living in this house. I don’t really hate meeting people, really. I’m usually quick at welcoming new relationships but then I guess this is where my anxiety comes in.

All my life, I did everything I could to avoid making mistakes and usually I will blame myself when something goes wrong, even when it was not really a big deal.

I make a big deal of my mistakes and I am really glad that Allah lead me to dentistry because I get to learn this wonderful subject they call ‘Behavioural Science’.

As I was given the lectures on Behavioural Science, I find myself more understanding of myself, why I behaved such and such, and why I reacted so violently towards myself. With understanding of my behaviour, I find myself becoming more compassionate and crying is no longer thought as a stupid thing to do.

I’m glad, really.

Alhamdulillah He finally answered my question that I have been asking myself for so long since I enter Dentistry because to be honest, Dentistry is not exactly what I have in mind for a career. Well, that goes for everything else. I’m really clueless, I know, but I’m past that now.

I now know what I want to do and this time I am really going to enjoy learning throughout the course.

This is my first post

Ear candy : What I’ve Done-Linkin Park

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim.

This is my first appearance here. Anyways, it has been a few days since I moved in this house of 11 people. It’s a bungalow and I’m sharing the master bedroom with 3 other ladies. The environment is different, and it kind of reminds me of the feeling that I had when I was renting back in Seri Iskandar, Perak. It’s really cool anyways. It has been just a few days and I tried to smile at those who wouldn’t even make eye contact with me and even when they didn’t smile back I didn’t really take it to heart. Yup, I don’t. In that sense, I have a feeling that I have changed slightly. At least I am further from my old self now. Baby steps. I’m getting there. Not immediately, but definitely. InshaAllah.

You know, talking about change, I am kind of desperate for it. When I resumed reading Purification Of The Heart, by Hamza Yusuf, although I’ve finished reading the introduction and I’m supposed to go on to the next page, I can’t. I feel the need to start over again. It kind of feels like I want to absorb everything written in the book, in hope that it will change me, that it will somehow switch the ON button of my obstinate heart.

It started during our first anniversary dinner. Me and husband were waiting for our orders and while waiting, we did a post-mortem of our marriage. Discussing our lacking and things that we need to improve, I found that there’s a lot, especially when it comes to me, and it almost overwhelmed me had I not calm down by the sight of food appearing on our table.

There’s so much to change and thus began my journey here to join my husband in pursuit of piety. Ameen Ya Rabb. 

carcinogenic

bismillah

"If we're not able to be alone, we'll only able to know how to be lonely."

the quote I quoted in my presentation.
an ailment less acknowledged, but suffered by too many, without them knowing.
perhaps it's like cancer, it eats you up from within, very sinister in its action.

or perhaps you can think of it like this. 
each individual is a cell, which makes up a body, the community. 
and that cancer is affecting each individual, thus, crumbling that body, slowly, as each cell disintegrates from the bigger group. 

some cells are more resistant, some are more vulnerable. 
and there's a need for a response team to response to such insult. 
there's a need to recognize the antigen, thus rendering the response team into action. 
when there's a failure to recognize, then there's a failure to cope, to prevent further damage. 
when being able to recognize, thus the next step would be to have the appropriate amount of energy in the response team. 

the society is disintegrating, weakening social, physical strength of it. 
we are losing so many values that were taught by the generations before us,
being good to neighbours, care for one another, people got into accident and the first thing you do is to lend a helping hand, not taking a snapshot and post it on Instagram or the likes of it. 
making a conversation seemed like an awkward thing to do, and I tell you, I'm like that myself. 
you saw something done incorrectly, the right thing to do would be to correct it,
but no, hey somebody else can do it, let me just tweet it or post it on Facebook, hoping that it'll somehow reach that person, even when that person is not in the friends list. 
why take a detour, when you can give an effect right away, when he's right in front of you instead of taking the long way through different routes which has no guarantee whatsoever that it'll reach that person? 

it's not about terminating technology. 
it's about giving the appropriate response. 
using it, instead of being used. 

as we reproduce, creating new "cells" each day, 
now these "cells" are even more vulnerable and needs extra protection. 

heal ourselves, so that we won't pass the faulty genes to our offspring, insyaaAllah. 

the sms

Written on June 17 2013.
The Collonades, Kota Kinabalu.

I received an SMS today, one which I anxiously waited for but I didn't really put high hopes on. Talked to my mummy-in-law regarding me never had any contact Daddy after months of marriage and how I feel bad about it and so she said perhaps I should give him a call when I'm in Sabah.

So here I am in KK, and yesterday was Father's Day. I decided to text him yesterday but was talking to my wife after a long trip north to The Tip of Borneo (which was really spectacular) and end up sleeping from the exhaustion and I fell asleep.

Realized the unfinished business this morning and so I texted him before going to the hospital, and anxiously waited for a reply but it didn't come. Went to hospital as usual and totally forgotten about it. It was around 5pm that his reply came.

“TQ. Daddy dan family semua sihat”. 

Alhamdulillah. He doesn't seem to be mad or anything. So I guess the next step would be to call him. I really hope things will work out between us, and between him and my wife.
Rabbi yaseer, wa la tu'aseer...

***
Aug 20th 2013, 4.39AM

Alhamdulillah, things went pretty well.
We came to pick them up at LCCT, and all that I can comment is, it's weirdly OK, as if nothing ever happened in the past. And one of the first few things we talked about when they've settled down in the hotel is regarding his wishes to organize a reception for us back in Mukah, and he's the one initiating the topic.
Even Mummy was surprised when he mentioned it to my parents during his first meeting with them. (He didn't tell Mummy about the plan...)

Alhamdulillah, thummal hamdulillah.

suicide note

Written on June 19 2013
The Collonades, Kota Kinabalu

Yesterday I did my first CPR on a real person, pretty late for some people, I guess. It was a rather sad case, though. A male in his 20s, commited suicide by hanging himself. We couldn't save him. The HO said usually if it's more than 5 cycle, the chances are very slim, but as for formality, the CPR need to go on for 7 cycles or up till 30 mins, which me and my friend had to go through (but that was like easy for them)...
I am not really fit to be honest. *sigh*

When the nurse told us to stop, it was quite a relief for us. Tiring really. Then I took a moment to look at the lifeless body. Looked at the strangulation mark around his neck. Looked at his half open eyes, and I wonder, what is it that made him do that. Is it worth it?
Did his misery end, though? What now? In the hereafter, I don't think I have to say anything more
about it.

Few minutes after we stopped the CPR, a lady came in crying with two other guys, his family I assume. One thing suiciders don't really think about are the miseries of those around them, after they ended their worldly miseries. What matters is they've ended theirs. No one else matters. Families and friends.

Families, especially. Just imagine what his parents and siblings would feel. Is it their fault? Could they have done something to stop it? Why didn't they see it coming? They will be scarred for life, haunted by the shroud of mystery surrounding his death, and guilt.

What if they have children? Mummy where's Daddy? Why did Daddy do it? Daddy don't love us anymore? Why do my friends all say my dad is in hell? Why are they saying nasty things about Daddy, Mummy?

Totally emotionally traumatic for the children, and how do you suppose the mummy would feel, trying to answer those questions?

The end of your misery is the beginning, or perhaps the prolongation of others' suffering. What a way to end your life with.

Idiot

Written on June 17 2013
The Collonades, Kota Kinabalu

Watching 3 Idiots, and now seeing my best friend quit his job to take on a job that he think he will enjoy rather than his old job made me rethink about my own life, my own journey. I used to dream of becoming National Geographic's photographer or cameraman and go on field trips around the world. Even now whenever I turn on the TV, the channels I would go for would be cooking channels, or documentaries like
NatGeo or Discovery Channel or the likes of it. When I do watch it, I still have that desire to be there, doing what they are doing.

I used to dream about being a writer. I used to write pretty well, as my friends told me. But now I can't seem to write anything good or inspiring. I don't know why. Perhaps it's that dark past of mine... Or maybe not..
And now I'm a medical student, and a pretty lousy one at it. And oh, a married one.

It seems now that I'm not good with anything I do. I can't write. My photography skills are quite OK I guess but ain't much to it. I'm not a good medical student, forgetting almost everything I've learnt (OK, this is an exaggeration). I'm a husband with no income and we both are currently facing some financial difficulties.

The only two things that I think I can focus and try to be good at is to try and be a good son to my parents and family, and to be a good husband. Sometimes it's a juggle. Tried my best in terms of knowledge and tarbiyah but I think I don't have enough yet. My own tarbiyah seems a bit wavy, somewhat forgotten, or perhaps they wanted to focus on a more energetic and spirited junior. Unlike me, been a long time under tarbiyah but still like this, and really, I think I'm deteriorating. Struggling to even be a good Muslim, let alone a da'ie.

I seem to have lost myself a long time ago. Zarith Shafie is gone with the sands of time.
Just hope that at least, I can make a difference in my parents' life, and to my wife's life. That I mattered. That I get to leave a mark on their life, a good one.

***
Aug 20th 2013, 4.32AM

Just ranting, really. I shouldn't really feel that way. I should do the best in whatever I do, medical students, daie. being a son and husband. That's how Muslims should be. So yeah, just ranting back then...