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It was beautiful

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A dedication to a kid who taught me that kids are human and I should treat them as one. To you, Those days are beautiful. All the seasons are beautiful. You are beautiful. When did it all started? Your absence. The day was different. The days were empty. Something was missing. It was you. As I am writing this, I try to trace back to the days you taught me of patience. At the verge of giving up, I give you one (last) chance. You did change. I was surprised. It was strange, though. “What makes you change?” A question without an answer from you. To see you smile makes me less worried about you. It was hard to read when your eyes are telling me something, you being not your usual self. I asked around to see if I overlooked you. Slowly, I found the answer: Kids are human. They express their feelings differently and according to their ways. You frowned when I laughed after requesting you to smile whenever you want something from me. The truth is I am happy to se...
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The joy of receiving knowledge in class

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Ever since I entered worklife, the feeling of something’s missing grew stronger. I never completed reading at least a book or even drop by a bookstore to look for fresh reads. I feel like reading books is not enough to prove you’re knowledgeable and it’s already sufficient. I need more than this, but what? In the midst of hustle and bustle of endless work, I sensed that I’m losing whatever I used to practice before, one of which is adab . I look for anything or something which can lift me up, but fails. From inspiring stories to motivation books to autobiography books (like Michelle Obama) to Islamic historical books. None. So, today, I decided to browse an online bookstore to purchase an English version of Bidayatul Hidayah (The Beginning of Guidance) by Imam al-Ghazali. Then, somehow, it brings me back to the days I learnt it in class. I never really understand why adab needs to be part of the subjects in my school, as adab needs to be applied on daily basis and always be remi...
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Beautiful Moments

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Beautiful moments exist after overcoming bad moments or events that happened in life. Often, above all hardships, there comes a beautiful moment which sparks the heart of someone who nearly gave up hopes. Like today, you wonder if beautiful moments will ever exist because storms come day by day without any endings. Like storms, you wouldn’t want to stare out the windows and look afar. You will imagine running on a vast green field, playing with random kids. Rolling on the grass, hide behind a tree, and scream out loud when you get caught. You ran to the shelter nearby, and look upon the heavy rain pelting down from the sky which then flows down to the drain. It must be a beautiful moment to witness this magnificent thing around us. Then, you went back home, shivering in cold, scolded by your mother who orders you to take a warm bath. You did; it was refreshing. You feel unsatisfied and you stare out from the windows, wondering when will the rain stops. You climb on your bed and ...
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When a liar lies

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Lies after lies after lies. It must be something you're talented at.. Lies after lies after lies. You seem not to aware I began to suspect it. Layer after layer after layer. So perfectly. I asked what you're up that day and you replied you don't remember. When I said M told me that you went out with her, you just laughed and said you now remember it.  When your story sounds illogical to me, I began to doubt your honesty. Someone told me you're just good at it that you misused the trust people gave it to you. Lies after lies after lies. Again and again and again. You ain't tired playing the games, don't you? You played as the innocent, fooling people around you. Because of the countless lies you made up, I avoid you and soon, you avoid me without a slight of guilt. You really act so well. We may still be friends but with a friend like you, I doubt if you are really worth a lifetime. Lies aren't made up like a f...
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Handwriting

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I was around 11 years old when I saw my friend’s handwriting so beautiful that I copied, trying to look exactly the same. Like this, Today is Friday. Almost like this font. So, one day, the teacher called me out to her desk and ask if the work done is handwritten by me. I said yes. The class became tensed. She asked for the second time and I said yes (not knowing she doubt I changed my handwriting). She glared at me and said between her gritted teeth, trying to control her anger (that’s what I see) and I still said the same answer. She asked again, “It’s your mum’s handwriting, right?” I said it was mine. Whilst I was standing beside her, I wondered,  Why is she asking this? She never asked her (my friend which I mentioned above).  Sort of the teacher thinks I lied and it didn’t work no matter how confident I said it was my handwriting. When I was 12 years old, I found another handwriting. It was my friend’s elder sister’s. Siti  Amirah I just remember the S an...
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Unplanned

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My progress to read as much book as I can -mostly English- is very challenging. I feel motivated when I have new books stack on my shelf/locker in my hostel since I used to dropped by library and borrowed a bunch of books. There's only a week left and it's the start of Semester 4. I have 3 books in my locker and am not so sure if I can pretend to ignore and expose myself to new things which I (have to be honest) not listed as my interests. ....   Right before I end my Semester 3, I have completed reading  Grapes of Wrath . I was overjoyed by my own success because I do understand the story from the start till the end and this book listed under "I want to explore new stories'. Basically, time after time, I get extremely bored reading the same thing. I very much prefer to read English through non-fiction books (although I have to have dictionary by my side).  Whilst on a break before the start of new semester, I decided to read  Lang Leav  poetries and ...
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Diam

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There are times when you need to just pour what has really been disturbing your thoughts for days, weeks, months, years or decades. You (readers) have the right to conclude whatever you want after you've read this down below. I decided to write it in Malay as it's for the best. Here's the first. Aku hanya mampu melihat dari jauh. Tanpa tindak balas yang mampu menghentikan segalanya. Aku harus diam. Diam bukan bisu tetapi demi kebaikan. Setiap ucapan bagaikan racun yang menghancurkan harapan yang kau letak pada aku. Kau yang kata. Suatu hari, aku lihat kau dan dia saling bertikam lidah. Kau kecewa dengan aku seolah-olah aku mementingkan diri sendiri . Kau melepaskan rasa marah bagaikan aku ini dinding - atau tiada perasaan? Aku diam sahaja. AKu, bersuara? Tak perlu rasanya. Nanti kau sakit hati. Hari pun berlalu. Ketegangan memang ada. Aku akhirnya mengalah sendiri. Aku benci jurang di antara kita. Kau pun tak akan mudah menyerah. Kau terima maaf aku. Aku sering memb...
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