I have always thought the start of Ramadhan to be the starting point of something good. I was not at the height of anything that I could be proud of, religiously, and I thought Ramadhan will surely be my saviour. I had neglect any effort to redeem my soul, hoping Ramadhan would take care of it. Surely, like how it has always been, Ramadhan will come with a breeze that lift my spirit and make me smile. It has always been a custom to me personally that I pray Tarawikh, as many days as I can during that month. It’s been 9 days now into Ramadhan and I haven’t perform any Tarawikh. Of course, guilt is stacking up like crazy, not to mention sin.
I realized, somehow, I have taken my good life for granted. Before this, I cherish the arrival of Ramadhan, expecting myself to make the best out of it. But this time, I have to admit, I expect Ramadhan to make something out of me. I expect Ramadhan conceal all these holes and wash away the blackspots in my heart. I expect Ramadhan to open Quran on my lap and wash me with ablution. I was pathetically left unattended.
I thought it is inevitable that Ramadhan will bring those holy goodness into my soul, it always had. But this year is a puzzling one. I have starved myself silly for nothing. And I dont even make anything out of it. It feels empty. And oh, how I hate it.
There had been time I have been quite lost. And everytime, something will pull me back. A lot had pulled me back, really, but I kept myself blinded. Now, nothing even pulls me back. I am truly lost. And no light shines. I am ignorant as I have never been before, and I sit down and make friend with it. It is a horrible feeling that eats into your soul.
When this awful feeling hit, I know it means I have to do something with it. Nay, I could no longer expect miracle to drop on my lap, like it used to. I have to WORK for it. What? Sigh. I want to be enlightened. I didn’t think I have to work for it. Why couldn’t I have the feeling of wanting to read Quran and pray?
It’s now that I feel, whenever you have the little nudge in your heart that tells you to pray – that guilty feeling that you need to pray, it’s a blessing you should be grateful for. I do not have that nudging feeling anymore and it feels empty. Imagine if I could have the feeling of wanting to pray, it would be a nikmat.
If you are reading this, you have reached into the core of me. This is where I keep a little black cyst that is currently steadily growing in size.
It is worse to be the person who walks in the darkness after a lightning strike to show you the way for a split second, than the person who had always been in darkness. To know the dark after you have seen the light is like being thrown into abyss of despair after you walk in the sunshine. Only fools would admit themselves to it.
So, if you could, would you please throw down a rope for me?
im at the height of panic//hanging from a pinacle like a manic//my heart pulpilating//exhilirating, feverish scared//no one to look out to// point a finger or two//eyes wide cringing with non-existence tears//only wrenched feeling of disgust//vomitting bile circulating hatred in the bloodstream//eyes looking in on itself, white to the world//judging//taunting//taking me piece by piece//till i could no longer breathe//and see daggers from all sides//crouching low//a desperate attempt to escape//a narrow alley//getting narrower and darker//primly walking to avoid crashing into them// when will i break my nails for them?
i applied for UNIPAL summer programme in Palestine last month. i didnt get shortlisted, the mail stated.
it maybe because i hold a malaysian passport. they go through jerusalem, of which i am not allowed.
it may also be because it is not yet time for me to take a big stride to Palestine. Maybe there is something i should look at first around me, before i go out of my way to Palestine,no matter how much my heart longs to go.
x unlike my mother, i could not yet understand arabic. i only know ‘mauzun’. pisang. and ‘jamilah’.
x i have not yet met Monica and help her like i should. and she was not there at her spot just now 
x i have not yet properly understand Islam, i need to ground my roots first.
Ya Allah, I shall leave my destiny in your hand. Please open the doors for me to redeem myself. Amin.
sometimes, some people see beyond.
a pathway to heaven right in front of their eyes.
they take each steps closer to the bright light at the end.
a strenght, notches higher than the rest.
with full confidence, what she drops would be safely caught.
im walking on the earth.
heaven yet too far away.
taking long slow strides.
dragging legs, covered bloods.
misty heart, cold and bare.
one day, she decides to end her journey.
she looks back with a smile.
found inner peace, sword in hand.
for her children is safe in God’s hand.
and her duty is done.
i try to breath,
grasping the wall,
suffocating in engulfing sins,
reaching a hand to my mother.
closing my fist on empty air.
a little word from you, mother.
a bit of care.
a show of love,
in this low level of my heart.
in this dry earth im scorching my feet on.
before you soar to the sky.
leaving me on the ground.
head straining upwards to the stars,
eyes upon your shiny wings.
blurred by tears i care not.
mother, you were an angel in my dream.
in blue dress,with beautiful eyes.
i dont doubt heaven is a place for you.
i give my heart to this path you take.
it had been two months,
before i heard your voice again.
i was shocked i couldnt guess it was you, mother.
i didnt know it was you at the end of the line.
just a bit of love before you go.
a bit normal like other mothers.
a text would be nice.
a warm ‘how are you’ would be lovely.
a word of courage to when you’re gone
would keep me going.
not the silence after you broke the eggshells below me.
to leave me with heart astoned.
trusting i would climb up when i fall.
i do try, mother. yet i fall again.
dont you realize, mother.
i see Him when you do.
i do not see Him with my own eyes.
i see Him through yours.
and as you leave,
with full confidence it will make me stronger,
i am scared.
not of losing you, mother.
but of losing Him in my heart.
i need you not for the love of a mother,
the way other daughters do.
you are special, and so are your way of love.
i have put out that yearn in my heart
for you are closeer to Him than you are to me.
i am happy for you, mother.
but i do need you, mother,
to walk towards the light.
dont you see me, mother?
when you helped the orphans,
the poor, the needy,
i do the same.
dont you see me, mother?
i try to follow the path you etched.
stepping into the steps you’ve taken.
but the place you are going now,
is where i have to stop following.
it is not yet for me.
it may never be.
and i can only pray it would.
this is where it ends.
where do i go now?
where shall i take my steps?
i could only hope, mother.
that you will always see me when you turn around.
because i am always there,
looking out for you.
its fehy’s birthday. she is 22 now and she shall now officially be off teenage tantrums. instead, it will be quarter-life crisis.
may she have a beyond boho-happiness for life to come. it will be hard for her to be so without her bff, moi.
today we shall learn, time management.
time is more precious than gold. and time wasted is like suicide.
i shall now proceed to this heart-wrenched feeling of the heart with remorse.
with 5 minutes, i have missed the opportunity to run for Vice President of the Kings’ Photo Soc.
i shall continue my grieve.
today i have also mistakenly put in wrong home address in midst of excitement at purchasing my first shoes online. it was OFFICE, high heels, 25pounds from 60.
the woman in Flat 2 shall now receive my petal puff peach platform sole high heeled shoes, size 4 and the last remaining pair entirely. no more in the world.
i shall have to wait till to morrow to call customer service and correct the mistake.
i shall lie again in grieve for an unfortunate day.
unhappiness is like a vacuum that sucks a huge deep blackhole in your soul,
filling it with cavity, making use of none,
and suddenly, there is no happy memories to keep that spirit alive,
no energy to rejuvenate, no heart to make shift your tears.
it stays muddled like the dead sea,
anguishing over in the swirl of condemnation,
haunted pale faces of the past try and reach,
and you stare hollowly back,
giving in to their deadly gaze.
wait for the sun to shine,
wait for rain to fall,
wait till the flood bring life to the pool,
and rainbow gleam.
and then you walk up and away,
looking back, dreading,
the next time you will visit its slumer eternity again.