Fickle fickle mind

Hello my fickle fickle mind.

Fickle but stubborn mind,

do you mind?

Could you step aside, let me be free,

an experience what it is to not live in a paradox of universes.

Hello my fickle fickle mind.

Fickle but persistent mind,

do you mind?

If I stuff you in a titanium box,

and sink you deep deep in the ocean.

Hello my fickle fickle mind.

Fickle and determined mind,

do you care?

If all I did is stay close to you,

while cursing your existence and slowly,

burn your roots curled deep within my soul.

Would you mind?

If I call you mine

but wish for you to be gone?

A joke and an ancient tree; my fickle fickle mind.

Used to & now I

used to come here to write everything and nothing as if digital life is not absolute.

used to come here and freely write like tomorrow never exist.

used to be here because it felt like, a place I could return to.

used to be here to soften the bruises I didn't know I had.

used to be here to feel listened and comforted,

by my own words.

used to,

but now I 

I am still here.

Hi.

You never left,

the shimmering river within me,

filled with life and cool amidst the heat,

untainted amongst the junk,

flowing, living,

you

how are you?

25 and life is clearer but muddier too,

the way it was

the way it is.

This and that,

are you still there?

are you still with me?

are you still living?

are you alright?

Didn't you

Family

 Here's me with my scrambling thoughts after ep 13 of homecha.

God.

That episode made me cry a lot.

Also been reading Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb, which made me delve more into my own behaviours, past and present. Crazy how much one doesn't know about one self. 

Back to title. Family.

This word has been hiding in my mind in some distant corner covered with dust, but still there nevertheless. Staring at me waiting for me to pick it out, among all other thoughts. And carefully hold it in my hands. Giving it the attention it needs.

Stepped into a new group of people i've just met or just met few days ago, and they say we're family.

Stepped into a new building with entirely different life and it said we're family.

Walked into a common ground in conversations and events and the world chants we're family.

Family.

Should be a holy mantra.

A powerful piece of word that immediately wraps up everyone in a bubble.

Tying arms to each other, assuming familiarity and comfort.

A powerful tool for authority and security.

I wonder. How many of us, how many of those who said we're family actually acts the way a family does and doesn't feel like another black and white law. Dull on a sheet of paper. Read everyday solemnly.

We're family.

I don't know if i have ever truly felt family in any circle that overused the word other than my own blood-born family. 

Blood-tied. The strongest pact. But even then, it took years to finally understand what a family is. A sense of comfort, familiarity, unconditional love and support through thick and thin, always with you through time. 

Family is not just a decoration. Real work must be situated to make it work. Even when a thread in the knitwork goes astray, there's a way to make it work. To make it fit comfortably in the overall look without cutting it off. To never leave one in their worst persona. To wait patiently and love nevertheless and willingness to make it work. Whatever it is. To know that you belong no matter what. You can come home no matter what.

Family and home is intangible.

Maybe i'm still overprotective over my heart, tears and sanity. And i deny any other entity that says we're family without any visible action that convinced my heart. 

What a nice word.

Sold for cheap.

How can one be family if money, monthly targets, written rules, and expected behaviour are included in the bowl?

How can one be family without knowing each other and cutting parts of oneself to look exactly the same as others? 

That's not family.

I cannot accept an expensive word to be sold cheap.

 Fleeting, a cm away from earth.

 

August is about to end, and my country is still on fire,

A fire of varying degree,

Felt uniquely by each and every one,

Nevertheless, we haven’t stop burning.

 

-

 

I’ve been loving every single read this month. I can safely say that this month’s reads are the most satisfactory as a whole. The thing about reading books, the fun part for me, is to combine and find different but complementary messages and ideas, blending into a wonderful new drawing.

 

Started from Algojo, that brought me violently into a world of politics, dirty and reality, spearheading a message that power and money corrupts, unless handled with restraint and moderation. To unravel the mess, to break free from the chains of corruption, one needs to see beyond black and white.

 

“Tapi kemajuan bukan mesin, kenderaan, senjata dan wang. Itu adalah kemunduran. Kemajuan adalah sesuatu yang membolehkan semua orang hidup dengan cara mereka mahu hidup, atas pilihan mereka sendiri. Itulah kemajuan yang sebenar.”

 

“Itu kemajuan dari perspektif mereka sahaja. Atau perspektif awak, Badriya.”

 

“YB, apa yang ada dalam dunia ni kecuali perspektif? Semua perkara adalah perspektif. Kita mesti mengiktiraf perspektif, terutamanya dalam isu kebajikan orang Asal. Sebab selama ini, perspektif mereka tidak dipedulikan.”

 

Sonogram delivered a message that the powerful, rich and elite forms a safety bubble, refusing to pop their bubble and help each other to live safely, and freely, in that sphere. Those with power are, and can be, and most likely are cowards. The higher you rise, the longer the fall. Be careful of the snakes. They lurk in the shadows. Ok, it’s actually a story of a boy chasing “ghosts” haha.

 

“Jadi teruskan berlagak macam tak ada apa berlaku. 90% orang yang ikut motto ni selamat dalam dunia yang dikuasai ahli politik sekarang.”

 

Di Situ Langit Dijunjung dragged me into the screams and blood of racial tensions due to poor leadership and unbalanced socioeconomy. People on the ground cries and digs for a roof, living in fear due to the doings of the ones who were supposed to help and bring dignity towards the land.

 

“Mama sedang mencari tempat untuk bertahan. Untuk merenggut sesuatu supaya boleh bergantung harap, seperti seseorang yang sedang lemas dan hanya tunggu masa nak ditelan ombak, tapi masih percaya akan wujudnya keajaiban. Perlahan-lahan juga aku lihat Mama seperti seseorang yang kelemasan, bila dia sedar bahawa kadang-kala, hidup ni memang tak punya harapan, dan di depan mata aku ni juga Mama mengecil dan mengecut, sampai yang tinggal hanyalah kelongsong. Kosong. Hilang. Aku nampak dekat mata Mama tu semua. Mama dah putus asa, hilang harapan. Dia dah parah dengan apa saja nasibnya. Mama dah bersedia untuk lemas, ditelan ombak jahat.”

 

 

Then i jumped into the wisdom of Syed Hussein Alatas that cleaned my brain from the confusion of social media and opinions of the masses. A dusty window that needs polishing so that I can look outside clearly without any obstructions. The book reminded of the role of leaders towards a nation, how rotten leaders are the root for many destructions in this country, the role of looking at any issue fairly using the appropriate knowledge and sources, and to be the saviour and builder of your people, and not to be among those who degrade their own kind while blindly following the “wisdom” of the west.

 

“Jika hanya menganjurkan usaha-usaha yang baik itu bukan revolusi, apa lagi jika anjuran-anjuran ini disalurkan dalam wadah falsafah golongan kerajaan yang berkuasa. Ini namanya idoktrinasi bukan revolusi! Revolusi biasanya menyerang sistem masyarakat, nila-nilai berkuasa, perbuatan-perbuatan yang berkuasa, penyelewengan hukum yang terjadi, penindasan golongan-golongan tertentu, ketidakadilan sistem ekonomi, sistem kerajaan, sifat pimpinan dan sebagainya. Bukan memburukkan peribadi bangsa sendiri.”

 

-

 

I feel like I’m constantly in a tug of war between reality and imaginary. Finding one in another, finding another in one.

 

 

Let the waves come. I'm tired.

A hooded man with a scythe.

The face of death, an image of death.

Black as the night, feathers of crows.

Black as jet, dripping down ink.

 

Trapped in cement, wood or air.

House, they say.

Shelter, they say.

Safe, they say.

Heaven, they say.

 

Yet demons slither in,

Eyes red as ruby,

Tongue sharp as words,

Hands of cold corpse,

Cold winds and searing pains.

 

Windows that were once so wide,

Shrinks and dissipates,

Into nothing but a cell,

Blocking and stopping,

Whatever it wishes.

 

For what is this all?

A distant roar of uprisals,

A distant roll of waves,

But too distant,

Too far,

How long is this all?

Come forth uprisals.

Come forth,

Waves.

Disparage

It's like a thunder when an idea cross your mind and send you tumbling to your laptop, hoping you'll catch at least the tail of the boom. So here's Disparage. An expression of a sudden wave of pandemic existence confusion.

Disparage.

Not to disparage, but am i going through a hard time or same old non pandemic years.

Not to disparage, but am i turning numb to the tribulations or same feelings so not feeling.

Not to disparage, but am i growing used to the changes or same routine so no gloating.

Not to disparage,

my own life or the world's crisis,

but I lay down, listen to the world, and fall into a state of eerie confusion,

what is going on?

Are we happy or grieving?

Or both, alternating in balance, too much to resist,

and like a pendulum, without resistance, slowly stops without realising.

When we're in a constant alternation,

do we stagnate like a river that doesn't flow?

When we're in a constant alternation,

do we, become a part of the constellation?

Hikmah dalam Tawar #3

Lately I’ve been loving hot soup. They’re so nice and pleasant to eat. Often feels like a warm blanket on a cold cold day.  

Talking about soup, a type of food made from a mix of different raw pieces, that somehow blends together into a harmonious end flavor. My life too, feels like it’s churning in a big pot, heading towards an end flavor, the “just right for me” flavor.

 

Last few months ago, I enrolled in a translation course outside of uni. 8 classes on weekends. Only one physical class due to mco. It just so happened that the the remaining 7 classes started at around the same time as when my uni resumed classes. So I had to adapt to online classes, being at home, being in my room, facing my own raw self with all its starkness and vividness, all the while trying to not miss classes while swimming in murky water. 

 

I like the course though. I like what I learnt. I didn’t mind the Saturday 9-5 classes. I really really wanted to do well in that course. I want to do well in the exam.

 

Then, the wind blew backwards, bending even the strongest hope, down.

 

It just so happened, again, that the exam date for this translation course was situated on a very busy week filled with exams and submissions. A stress-filled week. I had a uni subject exam right before the scheduled exam date for the translation course. The new system for uni online classes exam is, you are given 24 hours to finish the exam. On Friday evening, 3pm, the paper was given, I answered, until around 5am, Saturday. Then I couldn’t sleep. I have to answer the translation exam at 8! I was afraid I couldn’t sleep. Plus I didn’t study for the translation exam at all oh God. The exam was held at ITBM building. So that morning, without sleep, in a state I had never been in even for my uni exams, I answered three papers on the same day, despairing over the outcome because really, I actually wanted to do well in the course. It was just, tragic :D

 

So exam done, I waited for a few months for the result. Thinking that high chances, I would fail. I guess I have to retake the exam, I thought. I was expecting the worse, because I really didn’t prepare for the exam. 

 

Then few days ago, the exam slip and certificate arrived in the mail, I passed! Not with flying colors, but pass “LULUS” said the cert to me. I looked at the marks for each category, oh I did quite well in most parts, except for the theory part which required revision. And oh, only 1 more mark to “KEPUJIAN”, oh. “Oh” I said, and my mind goes into a swirl. Oh, if only I studied, if only I was in a better state, if only I had more time, if only I fought my fatigue a little bit more before the exam, maybe, maybe, I could have remembered some facts, and answered better, and get that extra one mark to get “KEPUJIAN”.

 

Then I thought, wow, 

Wow.

 

Wasn’t I extremely happy when I discovered I passed? Because I expected myself to fail. Wasn’t I super grateful just few minutes before I checked the marks? Wasn’t the whole situation, better than what I expected?

 

The ONE mark that divided a lower and higher rank, why am I so distraught over it? 

 

This ONE mark, is a test, I thought. A subtle test from Allah, isn’t it? To see where my thoughts and emotions will sway to? Didn’t I thought I would fail, and yes, the chances of passing without studying and in a bad bad mental and physical state, isn’t it a miracle I passed? Wow.

 

Just ONE mark, just ONE more, this train of thought, opened doors to many many new chamber of thoughts, brought in strong tides of murky and rough water that could my brain in a momentary disaster. Close the door before the water comes. Close it quickly. Think. Hikmah. What is it. Grab onto it. Hikmah.

 

Yes. Allah wants to see if I grateful, if I am able to think beyond, if I am able to see the context. Why is it that we must allow numbers and ranks determined by humans to become our badge of honor? Then my mind says, “but Allah, I could have done better, if I was in a better state”, then I realize, with a gulp, that wow. Allah is teaching me that MY ability, MY potential, MY intellect, are not determined nor tied by the numbers printed on a sheet of paper that could easily crumble and fade. I know what I am able to do, I know that I am better than whatever lables, numbers or grades the world had printed out for me. Wow. 

 

I get it Allah. I get it.

 

Thank you.

 

Alhamdulillah.

 

And like a hot soup that burns your toungue if eaten too hastily, but enjoyable when eaten slowly, waiting for a bit to let it cool down a bit, then swallowing it, enjoying the warm sensation that flows through your senses, life too requires the "intense period" follows by a “cool down” to attain the “perfect warmth” and the “just right flavor”. Success, redefine it. Don’t ever let this world cage you with their standardized claws. A tree with strong roots, will stand, even in the biggest hail. This too, is another story for Hikmah dalam Tawar.

 

A baggage of my soul. Here world, take it.