Blooming Fantasy

Oh sweet sweet holiday

2012-01-17T20:15:00.002+08:00

Phew. I mean alhamdulillah. Right now I'm relishing my sweet sweet holiday. I can now savour my stack of books (not the university textbooks, of course), watch my favourite TV series and sitcoms like Pretty Little Liars (Oh I love you Mr.Fitz), Drop Dead Diva, The Big Bang Theory and Friends(have watched a zillion times but would never get bored), swim like Dugong and last but not least, blog blog and blog despite it might bore people to death.

My beloved Ezra Fitz (acted by my beloved Ian Harding)

One thing is for sure, being a Master student is quite surprisingly and flagrantly different than an undergraduate student. I feel like I've no life. And for your information, you must get 70% in order to pass. *bawls like a baby*. I don't wait to fail and I have tried my very best. Some of the questions made me wanted to yell and scream like Tarzan, "Aaaaaaaaaaa" but in a more dramatic way. Please pray for my success.

Oh by the way, time flies really fast, eh?It's now 2012 but I'm still fat and single. Please don't look at me and say "It's the end of the world" and run in circles endlessly . Trust me, it's not as only God knows when.

Another year has gone by but the heart still remains the same–the same old heart, the same old feeling.

Ps: Well something memorable happened last November that made me twirl like a Bollywood actor. Don't get me wrong. No one has proposed to me or professed undying love. Well, only Allah knows. It might be nothing for some people but for me, I couldn't stop smiling. Unfortunately, it might not happen again. The moment was just brief and ephemeral but it would always be indelible and engraved on my heart.

Pending

2011-10-02T01:12:00.000+08:00

Waiting, fidgeting, gnawing on nails,

Palpitating heart, saturating sweats,

Smacking head, screaming, sobbing,

Lying in bed, putting head under the pillow,

Getting up, switching on the laptop, scrolling,

Tears trickling down, looking and waiting

-Nuruljannah-

Ps: I feel inspired out of the blue.

One-sided

2011-10-01T22:26:00.000+08:00

It’s ludicrous to say,

I care for you.

It’s immature to utter,

Those three magical words,

As I’m undeveloped film,

In your antique camera.

I could count,

The words you’ve uttered,

And how many times,

You’ve looked at me,

Despite a cursory glance

Could eradicate dark clouds

And make the sun rise.

It’s ludicrous to say,

I care for you.

It’s immature to utter,

Those three magical words,

As I’m just a hazy,

Blurry vision in your world.

But I really do,

I really do.

You are the invaluable jewels,

My amaranthine love,

Despite I would never be

In your heart.

-Nuruljannah-

As Blue as the Smurfs

2011-09-29T20:57:00.000+08:00

You know I’m feeling blue when:

1) Gorged on a large set of Mozza Burger from A&W, followed by Nasi Lemak Ayam (it’s a Malaysian food), and lastly Moist Chocolate Cake. Oh yeah, Miss Gluttony on the loose. However, such method is unfeasible and has failed to cast away the sorrow. Only Allah has the power to eradicate it.

2) Went for a car ride with my beloved friend to the male hostels. I know it may sound un-Islamic but don’t get me wrong. We didn't barge into the guys' dormitory (are you crazy ~~despite it would be awesome~~?) but just having an innocuous sightseeing tour and relishing the beautiful scenery of God's creations *winks*.

3) Inadvertently brought out a journal from the library which couldn't be borrowed. As a result, the sensor went ballistic as soon as I stepped out. All heads turned to me simultaneously as if I were a thief. I was dumbfounded and lost at first. I didn't realize that I’d brought along the book. Luckily, the librarian didn’t shoot me with a Taser gun.

4) Scowled at a stranger (a guy) who was gazing at my feet in awe. I didn’t know what was so interesting about my ~~stinky~~ feet but it irked me immensely when he ogled at them unblinkingly. When I glared at him, he looked at me with bewilderment as I snapped, “Apa tengok tengok? (What the heck are you looking at?)He was nonplussed with his jaws wide open in shock as I walked away. Okay, did I perceive it wrongly? His mind might be inattentive when he looked at my feet. Well, too late for that. Alhamdulillah, I went back to my hostel in one piece. I know I ought to be careful. Who knows that stranger might be a brutal killer or a vicious gangster.By the way, such incident happened at Wangsa Walk.

5) Burst into robust laughter when I watched Johnny English at the cinema till the exasperating laughter of mine attracted people to look at me instead of the movie.

4) Curled up in bed, sobbed and invoked Allah’s name.

Satisfying humans is like counting your hair

Oh yeah, I’m not joking. It’s impossible to please human’s heart desires. When you say kind, sugar-coated words all the time, (well can’t help it, my friend even called me Complimentary Smurf) some people find it rather annoying. If you utter harsh and corrosive words of course, they will turn into an incredible hulk and crush you like a bug.

Why do I love complimenting people? It’s not because of my penchant for buttering people up or wheedling them into giving me something I want but I just hate hurling caustic words at people.

I know some of you might find me utterly annoying because of my habit of excessive and extravagant in complimenting. I’m truly sorry if I annoy some of you deeply but I just can’t help it. This is me. You just have to accept me as I am Complimentary Smurf. And I know it’s hard to believe when I fond of complimenting people all the time as it might lose its value and diminish sincerity but I really do mean them. Suck it up you grouchy people er I mean, my dear sweet with sprinkles on top grou er gorgeous people who like to get angry all the time. This is who I am.

That’s all for today. Assalamualaikum.

English is the knowledge of the devil?

2011-09-14T16:45:00.000+08:00

The New Beginning

My life as a postgraduate student has officially begun. I can’t deny this jittery feeling surging inside me. I am no Einstein but an utterly gawky, daft, diffident and introvert student who has a penchant for embarrassing oneself with naivety and clumsiness. However, having such disposition will never stop me from pursuing my master and climbing the stairway to success.

But, I really miss the life of an undergraduate student—my beloved crazy friends especially my dynamic duo and I can’t believe I said this, I miss the time which I loathe most— the time where I had to vehemently compete with others during subject pre-registration because it peeved us very much when we couldn’t get our desired subjects as we had to rearrange the schedule that we had schemed painstakingly.

And I miss the time where I faltered and stuttered during my presentation (oh wait, I still do that) and the time where um, only God knows what—especially that :(.

Alhamdulillah, I’m really glad I met Fifi. I couldn't stop howling with laughter when she coined her own words like hozeh, hotshemseh (sorry Fifi, if I’ve misspelled it), and other creative words she had contrived. It made my day. Thank you, Fifi. She helped me a lot and I’m really grateful. Unlike other master students, (not all of them, some of them are really nice), they are independent and selfish who have an insatiable desire for success even if it takes to bring others down in order to succeed. They have competitiveness streak in themselves and I’m not like that. I’m not being disdainful or praising myself but I really hate competing with others. Competitions give me heebie-jeebies.

English is the knowledge of the Devil?

Yesterday, in Research Methodology class, I was dumbfounded and shocked by Dr. Rozina’s story. She told us that there was one ignorant ustaz from IRKHS(Islamic Revealed Knowledge) department disparaged and defamed students who took English course and ruthlessly claimed that English is the knowledge of Syaitan (devil) and consequently made one student burst into tears. Our jaws dropped and we were completely appalled by his, sorry to say, idiotic and narrow-minded statement.

Seriously, English is the knowledge of the devil? Where did he get that idea from?From the noble Qur’an? From the hadith? Or from his midget mind(well, isn't it obvious)? This is gobbledygook! There’s no such statement stated in the Qur’an and hadith. In fact, Rasulullah s.a.w (peace upon him) encouraged Muslims to study and learn other languages to avert oneself from being deceived.

For your information, I’m pursuing a Master 's degree in English Language Studies. English language is not the knowledge of Syaitan but it is the tool of communication. Without English, how Islam can be widely disseminated? Not all of us can understand Arabic language (including me).

We as a Muslim should learn other languages and there’s no such thing as the knowledge of the devil. Unless you want to learn how to deceive people in order to gain one’s need, how to oppress innocent poor people and how to use black magic and those, my friend are truly knowledge of the devil.

It’s essential to learn and master English language in order to defend Islam from being slandered and slurred by the Western media. If Muslims are being ignorant and believed that English is the knowledge of the devil, Islam would be forever misinterpreted by the Westerners and we could not discard Islamophobia notion from their mind. It is our duty to reveal the truth about Islam. There are many conspiracies in this world. I doubt that Osama bin Laden is a Muslim because it’s sinful to kill and detonate innocent people despite they are non-Muslims. How can they be so sure self-bombing would be a ticket to heaven? The devil might cackle and carouse to see you being easily deceived and welcome you to the hellfire for bombing innocent people.

Prophet Muhammad s.a.w would surely chide and reprimand for such ruthless and cold-blooded behaviour. For your information, many Muslims were killed too during 9/11 incident. Did the Western media circulate such news? Not a bloody chance.

Can’t you see such injustice treatment against Muslims? And why did the U.S army shoot Osama Bin Laden on the spot and toss his body into the sea instead of capturing him alive and terminating him in front of people? Weird. Unless Osama is a fake Muslim and such story was created in order to spare his life. Can’t you see that, my dear non-Muslim readers? As I said, they are many conspiracies and plots in this world to tarnish the image of Islam.

Our beloved prophet Muhammad s.a.w (peace upon him) never taught people to oppress and kill innocent people despite they are non-Muslims. He instructed us to be kind, sympathetic, compassionate, selfless and love others for the sake of Allah.

There are many poignant and touching stories of our beloved Prophet Muhammad s.a.w and insyaAllah, I will share in the next post.

Okay, my point is, it’s vital to learn English language in order to evade oneself from being deceived. It’s important to learn about other cultures and spheres in order to broaden our mind and understand people more deeply.

Awkward moments

Okay, there are too many awkward moments to describe which I've experienced during this semester. I don’t know why I love to embarrass myself.

1^st incident

I confidently greeted a stranger whom I taught my friend. Seriously, she has an uncanny resemblance to my friend—in terms of her look, height and the way she garbed herself. No wonder she was nonplussed even though she pretended to know me.

2^nd incident

I was a half-hour late for my first class because Fifi and I got the wrong class and had difficulty to find the right one albeit I’ve been here for four constant years. -_-‘

3^rd incident

In my research class, I misunderstood my lecturer’s question. I thought she asked about our thesis and since I wanted to change my mode of study from coursework and dissertation to coursework only,I assertively answered that I would not do any research as I wanted to change my mode of study. However, what she meant was the topic for research proposal class assignment. No wonder my classmates were bursting into laughter. It dawned on me when my friend said she nearly knocked her head on the table when she heard my inane and honest statement.

4^th incident

This is just a slip of the tongue. Instead of saying steam iron, I inadvertently claimed that my iron has steamboat -_-‘and my ~~cruel~~ friend posted it on her Facebook.

Okay, that’s all for today but before I curl up in my cosy bed, I want to share a poem which I can relate to my life. This poem is not by me but one of my favourite writers, Fadzlishah Johanabas Rosli. Check out his wonderful blog: http://www.fadzjohanabas.com/

If only I was a patch of cloud

My shadow will bring respite

from the glare that burns your back

My tears will bring nourishment

to help you grow, to help you prosper.

If only I was the grassy field

Where you can rest for a while

in the still of the day

Where you can catch a glimpse of you dream

out of the corner of your eyes.

If only I was the open road

That you choose to travel upon

down the unknown where your future is

That you choose to stroll unhindered

up the vista of memories, old and new.

If only I was the world

If only I was your world

If only, as you were mine.

- Fadzlishah Johanabas Rosli-

Unfathomable

2011-09-07T22:58:00.000+08:00

I wish I could describe,

And choose the perfect words,

To paint my vivid feelings,

To make you fathom,

This unfathomable heart.

I wish I could pour out,

These pent-up emotions,

Like strong coffee into a cup,

To make you taste my

Imperceptible pain,

The pain of seeing

This red rose blooms,

Burgeoning day by day

Despite your absence.

I know you will never reap and keep,

And see its tears seep,

But there it still grows for

You.

-Nuruljannah-

Ps: Well, sometimes words themselves are not enough to express what I truly feel. Only God knows and understands. By the way, I’ve enrolled back into my beloved university to pursue my master. There are many things I want to share. InsyaAllah , I will post it in my next post. Right now, I’m really sleepy and my brain is in idle mode. I know my blog is inactive and metaphorically speaking, adorned with spider webs but I will try my best to fight this writer’s block disease. Aja aja fighting!

Assalamualaikum and take care.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2

2011-07-25T22:27:00.000+08:00

I was dying to watch Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 since its release. I’ve read the last book of course because I love Harry Potter. Nevertheless, I don’t consider myself as a die-hard fan since I embarked on the journey to the enchanted world of Harry Potter by reading the fourth book, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” instead of the first one.

I didn’t know the existence of Harry Potter until the movie’s release. Before this, (when I was a kid) I didn’t have a preference for reading and my mom had to force me like parents who coerce their children to eat vegetables. Alhamdulillah, right now, I’ve a strong penchant for reading till my extravagant expenditure on books enraged my mom. Well, she was furious because my stacks of books consumed spaces and they were everywhere—on the floor, chair and especially my bed which gave my mum a massive headache.

Previously, they didn’t build me a proper bookshelf so there you go. I’ve to put my books in the high cabinet that is clearly out of my reach. That’s why I prefer to keep them on the floor, chair and my bed especially but I’ve to bear with my mum’s high-pitched scream. Books are loyal companion and I don’t want to be far away from them.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (may contain spoilers)

I forced er I mean tried to persuade my younger brother to watch the movie with me since I have a ludicrous fear of driving. He reluctantly agreed. I promised him that I paid for his ticket (well I’d to, for Harry Potter’s sake).

At last, I could watch Harry Potter since my last plan was cancelled. I was supposed to watch the movie with my friends last week but I had to accompany my mum to Brunei to attend a wedding which I didn’t know (but look at the bright side, there were free food and door gift). I didn’t want to ignite her anger and therefore, I had to agree while I was howling frantically inside.

At last, last Saturday I could watch my favourite movie—my eyes were like SpongeBob Squarepants, gleaming with happiness. The first part was tedious and I didn’t enjoy it but the second one was OMG, splendid, brilliant and mind-blowing! I cried incessantly Severus Snape’s memory part but I didn’t cry when I watched Nur Kasih the movie. My younger brother was shocked to see me sobbing and he guffawed heartily without having any fear of getting popcorn or shoes hurled at him because of his distracting laugh.

I knew Severus Snape was a good guy because I’ve read the book. I understand his unconditional love for Lily—truthfully and honestly, I do understand his feelings.

The part where he wants to protect Lily from any harms and implores Dumbledore to protect her. The part where Dumbledore has failed to save her and Snape can't do anything about it. He loves her unconditionally albeit she loves James Potter and he wants to protect her deeply and he truly cares for her (that's why Snape has the same Patronus Charm with Lily).

The part where Snape sees the person he loves most died and he can only hold Lily tightly and cry. The part where he silently looks after Harry Potter and protects him despite Potter has a strong resemblance to his father (Potter’s father used to bully Snape and he stole Lily from him).

The worst part is Lily doesn’t even know about his strong feelings for her. That truly kills me. I understand your feelings, Severus Snape. As a matter of fact, I do and I would do the same too.

It really hurts when you have strong heartfelt feelings for someone but that person doesn't know and might even forget your name.

It really hurts when that person is really important to you but in that person’s eyes, you’re a weirdo.

It really hurts when you want to protect that person so badly but you can’t. You can only pray to God for that person’s safety in this world and hereafter as God is the nearest and the best protector.

It really hurts when people around you keep pestering you to find someone but you know your heart belongs to that person even though you know that person doesn't have any idea at all (well,the heart is the hardest thing to govern).You know you’re clapping with one hand (a Malay idiom which means only you who develop that feeling whereas the other party doesn't reciprocate the same feeling as you) and you want to stop but you couldn't. All you can think is that person’s happiness.

That's all for today. Assalamualaikum

Poetry:The Absence

2011-07-11T14:37:00.000+08:00

I miss the rhythm of your voice,

The beautiful carving on your face,

The sound of my heart beating furiously,

Like a train chugging on endless tracks.

I miss the ludicrous jokes,

The fragrant of happiness

Emanated from my skin,

The laughter of my own

With a little mixture of yours,

Would always be my favourite melody.

I miss when I smiled foolishly

Like a clown,

My eyes would glisten

Like the shimmering sun,

Despite my distant

Hazy image in your eyes.

I miss everything which involves you,

Despite I am just a distant

Hazy image

Of nothingness in your eyes.

-Nuruljannah-

My two cents

2011-07-10T16:40:00.000+08:00

Frankly speaking, I’m not into politics. But, it doesn’t mean I’m utterly ignorant and oblivious to current political issues. Despite my penchant for reading chick lit and romantic novels(not the ones filled with erotic scenes ok..I'm not a randy pervert), I do, as a matter of fact, read about the ~~boring~~ issues of politics. Nah, it’s not really boring actually as the world of politics is inundated with flagrant drama, ludicrous rows, corruptions (of course, it’s the main course of politics) and the like.

Based on my observation, most people who are seriously into politics are abrasive, rough, cantankerous and belligerent— many of them use expletives, foul words to project their anger and hatred towards a particular party. I’m not only describing the characteristics of my people as it's the same goes for the rest. I quiver every time when I read the corrosive and brutally harsh criticisms about a particular party as if that particular person wants to rip off the other person’s heart and grind it into dust.

Well like just now I had a small but quite intense dispute with my brother-in-law regarding politics. I know he is an avid supporter of a particular party and I admire his steely determination and enthusiasm but once he has been provoked, make no mistake, he would transform into an incredible hulk.

Well, people are entitled to their own opinion and it’s not wrong to voice your dissatisfaction and opinions but it has to be done in sensible and professional ways rather than yelling boisterously, conducting a violent rally and etcetera.

Honestly, I don’t agree with yesterday’s rally, Bersih 2.0. Okay, before you condemn me vehemently, I’m entitled to my opinion because I hate squabbles and fights. I may be rebellious by nature but I do hate arguments. Why don’t we discuss it with harmony instead of conducting an intense rally?

If the government still ignores people’s voice for fair and impartial elections then I guess it’s okay to hold a demonstration but must not be clashed with harmony and peacefulness.

But honestly, I still disagree with the rally. Just look what happened. It affected others and caused bad traffic congestion, had disrupted peacefulness and the like. Many people had to suffer from such consequences. If it gives troubles and difficulties to people, wouldn’t it be haram?

Well, this is my honest opinion. Please don’t attack me for penning my thoughts down. I don’t blame and condemn Bersih supporters. I just don’t agree with the rally. In addition, many people end up squabbling and wrangling with each other because of it. That’s why I don’t support it and reject it wholeheartedly. Please, no more fight. I think compare to the other states, Malaysia is a peaceful and tranquil country. Please don’t take that away and we should always be thankful.

And dear government, please listen to their voices and mark your words, "rakyat didahulukan" (people first).

That’s all for today. Assamualaikum.

When my pen is inkless...

2011-07-05T23:26:00.000+08:00

I need to get back on track. There’s a stack of dusty books need to be read. I really hate it when my fervent passion for reading and writing has plummeted like stocks.

Perhaps because of the excessive unhealthy fat food consumption might have intensified the disease of mine called indolence. Well actually, there is one particular reason why I can’t write—the absence of my inspiration (as I’ve mentioned in my previous tedious post).

I know I ought to start writing before my ideas would be eroded by my own forgetfulness nature. Yes as the matter of fact, I do have a short-term memory. However, when it comes to something really memorable to me, it will become indelible and engraved deeply on my heart despite my growing my age.

Actually, there’s a myriad of stories I want to write but my incompetency to express coherently and cohesively might be one of the main reasons why I’ve stopped writing.

I need to stop nit-picking and start writing. Well, I wish I could. I wish I could.

Seriously, right this moment, my pen is inkless.

After a long hiatus...

2011-07-02T19:20:00.000+08:00

I know I’ve been slacking off and I know I’ve stopped writing for such a long time (with a tad mixture of exaggeration of course). I don’t know what has impeded me from writing er, I mean typing. No wonder I feel lost these past few days because I've stopped writing. I feel like I’m a lost soul wandering in the darkness. Is it because my heart stippled with black dots? Sometimes I feel far away from God because of my negligence in remembering Him.

I know I should not stop writing and become a slothful and an indolent person who likes to eat and sleep, eat and sleep, eat and … well, you get my drift, right O my beloved ~~imaginary~~ readers?

And I guess the absence of my inspiration is also one of the reasons why I can't write. I feel like the tank of my ideas has shrivelled and dried-up because of the absence.

I've also stopped reading without any sensible reasons. That’s why I feel like a walking corpse. What’s wrong with me? I feel like there’s a negative force hampering me from reading and writing. I wish I could eradicate and drive out these negative feelings out of me.

Despite being engulfed by this relentless pessimism, there’s something which made me extremely happy and perked me up. Maybe for some of you it’s not a big deal but for me, it is. My ~~gibberish~~ article was selected and published in the book called “What’s After SPM”. Alhamdulillah, at last. I submitted it in 2009 if I’m not mistaken.

It’s now available in MPH, Mid Valley Kuala Lumpur and other MPH bookstores (in KL) and also Kinokuniya, KLCC. I’m one of those 101 contributing writers. I would like to thank the editor of “What’s After SPM” for publishing my ~~ludicrous~~ article. It means a lot to me.

However, my article was edited -_-‘.Perhaps, because of my drivel and my penchant for rambling on inconsequential things. I haven’t read it yet and honestly I’ve forgotten what I wrote. The editor said my article would be edited. Yeah, I feel quite sad and dejected but oh well, look at the bright side—my nonsensical article has been published.

For your information (and before you pester me to treat you awfully expensive meal), I don’t receive loyalties on the sale of this book as this is considered as volunteer work (and I only sent one article by the way) but I will receive a free copy of the book.

Yippee and there’s a small picture of mine included in the book. Can't wait. Once again, thank you for publishing it. Alhamdulillah.

Please buy this wonderful and inspiring book but please don’t read my article. It’s quite embarrassing. Just read the other 100 stimulating articles. It's an apt book for form 5 students and SPM graduates. Well, you can buy it too if you are not one of them as this book is suitable for all ages. It’s sold at RM 19.90. By the way, this book will be officially launched on August 6, 2011 at MPH Midvalley around 1.30 p.m. Feel free to come but sadly, I can’t attend it.

Feel free to visit MPH websites to take a look at this wonderful book:- MPH Bookstore

P.S. Don’t read my article.

And also this website if you want to know more about the book:- What's After SPM

(Short Note: I'm number 66 in the list by the way :D).

I love the melody of the rain

2011-05-20T20:17:00.000+08:00

I love the melody of the rain. Nevertheless, it’s not a tell-tale sign to relish a sweet dream— in other words, to sleep like a big fat log. The rain doesn’t lull me to sleep (okay maybe sometimes I would doze off and my frighteningly loud snore would "spice up" the melody of the rain) but it will give me the great sensation of inexplicable happiness. I know it sounds ironic as rain usually symbolizes sadness, gloominess and despair but it will give me the impetus to gyrate and dance like a Bollywood superstar in the pouring rain.

When the raindrops pelt against my skin, I feel alive like Frankenstein. I don’t know why but I love the rain. It will escalate my mood for reading and subsequently will propel me to recline on the yellow sofa with a good book. Aaa rain, I love thee.

Minus the deafening thunder as I will cower under my pink comforter when it roars viciously.

The rain is also one of the signs of God’s love,“rahmat Tuhan” in Malay language. I wish the rain could wash away the black dots on my heart which have veiled me from seeing the light—His light.

Only God's mercy, love and power could cleanse my grimy heart. That’s all for today. And here’s the poem for today entitled “The Real Poetry” (I know it's unrelated as I should compose a poem which related to the rain but well you know me, a big fan of digression). Here goes:

The Real Poetry

Composing a poem is not about the rhyme,

Or like contriving a perfect crime,

It is not a mere obfuscation,

Or to accentuate your sophistication.

It is to express and not to impress,

Venting emotions which are suppressed.

Let it go effusively even in a free verse

And you don’t have to rehearse.

Spew all of them out,

Despite what they are about.

Don’t hesitate or say later,

Because you will feel much much better,

Express yourself and be free,

This is what I called the real poetry.

-Nuruljannah-

Repressed Melody

2011-05-19T15:34:00.000+08:00

Repressed Melody

The repressed words in my heart,

Only God could listen,

To the tune and rhythm,

Every beat it interminably plays,

No one could listen,

Even you,

Especially you.

These unexpressed,

Hidden words,

Are specifically for

You,

If you could unveil your deafness

And listen cagily,

You could hear me,

My repressed melody.

-Nuruljannah-

It has been so long I didn't write er I mean type, okay, compose is more suitable, compose a poem. I think I should squeeze out every ounce of my pent-up feelings and pour them onto here.

2011-05-19T00:33:00.000+08:00

Quite dusty around here, isn’t it? Well I’m talking metaphorically. Yes, I should compel myself to write, write and write er I mean type, type and type. Right now, my world is blanketed with the murky clouds of pessimism and dejection. Ugh, sometimes I feel it’s hard to breathe peaceably in such condition. My despondent spirit ought to be revived because of the failure and past regrets.

Currently, I feel like drowning helplessly in the deep blue sea, plunging into the bottomless. I did try to swim back to the surface but I feel my legs are being tied up to the heavy metal and my hands are completely paralyzed. I just let myself fall, fall into the abyss of oblivion without any attempt to break free. Not because I didn’t try, I did but the wave of negativity seems insurmountable and too strong to be eradicated with my feeble, puny spirit.

I feel futile and useless. Please help me the Mighty One.

SOSWeeeeeee~

2011-04-05T00:47:00.000+08:00

Last Saturday I attended SOSWE (Society of English Writers Northern Zone Sarawak) meeting. Yes, miraculously I've joined a society and for your information, during my undergraduate study, I was not an active student— participating or joining societies was not my cup of tea as I was a laid-back and undeniably slothful student.

Woot, I'm in the newspaper (Borneo Post,March 6,2011)..but subsequently it would be made as a nasi lemak wrapper.

Close-up (Fellow members)

Okay, let’s get back to SOSWE before I meander on interminably till you die of boredom. SOSWE is one platform for all aspiring writers to set aside time to write as well as allowing to work through the entire writing process (Borneo Post, 2011). Therefore, it's worth joining it.

By the way in that meeting, we discussed about how to write effectively and how to overcome the writer’s block (which I often suffer from). The talk was given by Mdm. Molly Sim, the club’s president—and it’s really inspiring, stimulating and riveting. The pesky block of mine seemed to wither as the ideas were gushing like water.

I have to keep the gate open and the engine of mind running by writing er I mean typing. Otherwise, I might plunge into the abyss of pessimism and would forever suffer from the writer’s block. She encouraged us to write whatever came across our mind and forget about the intricate and annoying grammar—just write, write and write till you drop (okay, I added “till you drop” part). She also said that a writer must always have a book and a pencil in his or her hand. ~~Well, what I’ve always have in my hand is food.~~

If you encounter into an irksome and flagrantly annoying person, instead of yelling at the top of your lungs "Shut up!" or carping at someone who would subsequently run away from you, why don't your pour out your indignant, rage and annoyance into a small book of yours?

Or, if you happen to meet a dangerously handsome and brawny guy and with a dimple on his chin, write. Don't take his photograph, ogle at him or say corny and awfully cheesy pickup lines like "Do you have a map? I just keep on getting lost in your eyes" or check his clothing tag and say, "That's what I thought, made in heaven"(Joke Yard), you will definitely be deemed as a deranged stalker.

Or, if you really love and care about someone inexplicably, beyond words, people's mind and even your own mind that you will do anything to make that person happy and he is undeniably important to you but you can't blurt out your genuine feeling to avoid from the great humiliations as you know that person would never love you back (that's not important, their happiness is more vital) and all you can do is to pray for that person's happiness, just write—spill all of your emotions out into the book. Write, blabber and blather as if that person would read one day.

Honestly, I have a book emblazoned with the big white word, “inspiration” on the cover where I pour out my cauldron of ideas. It seems however, to be the place for accumulating dust.

We had a writing section after her talk which scared me to death. Not because they were frightening like "Ju-on" movie and would torture us violently if we could not write as all of them were affable and amiable but the inability to produce a good coherent writing scares me incredibly (yes,until now).

When they distributed papers and pens, I felt like I was sitting for my final exam where I would normally freak out and consequently would mess up outstandingly. Alhamdulillah, I didn’t mess up but I wrote haphazardly and blatantly disorganized. Then they commented our writings. All of them were positive including mine—yes, it’s a miracle. They even laughed heartily at my stale quip.

Well, I had a great time and I think my writer’s block has finally gone, vanished, KABOOM. Thanks to God and SOSWE. That's all folk. Assalamualaikum.

The Nothingness

2011-03-27T12:14:00.000+08:00

Zilch. Zero. Nada. Right now, I am having a writer’s block despite the monumental things I want to share—I just can’t dole these things out. Is it because of my irrelevant anxiety that has sapped and depleted my spirit to write?

Pesky and irksome emotions and thoughts are lingering in my mind, but I can’t seem to marshal these into comprehensible and coherent points. Ah, the art of rambling is my forte but producing lucid and comprehensible articles is not my flair—I know how to blabber, blather and babble with such an incredible nonsense.

My desktop is littered with unpublished posts, incomplete and hanging words—and I don’t know why I can’t mould them into florid but sensible writings which can leave a profound and deep impact unto someone’s heart till my words are deeply ingrained, haunting their minds like the daunting headless ghosts (okay, not in an ominous and threatening way) and making them cry incessantly.

No, don’t get me wrong. I don’t write to ridicule, demean and degrade people like some of the unsympathetic, cold-hearted writers who think they are supreme and impeccably shrewd as expressing my complicated and disorderly organized thoughts is one of my main goals.

Nevertheless, right now, at this precise moment, I could not spew out everything that beleaguers and bothers me as if there were an insurmountable and indestructible wall that withers my flowing ideas.

Is it me? Is it my own reckless doing? Am I the one who creates this irrelevant unreasonable anxiety? Is this my own paranoia which has created this little insidious voice of mine that drags me into the chasm of pessimism? And why do I hear some yeses?

Okay, I know. You don’t have to yell virtually “yeeeeessssss”. It’s me. I just want to be a writer so badly till I’ve unconsciously created this crass and inane fear of producing an utter drivel and rubbish (but I still did it, didn't I?)

Okay I know I did produce a lot of gargantuan nonsenses in my previous posts. Hey, it's my blog *sticks out tongue*.

Wanting to be a consummate and talented writer is not easy. You don’t realize you’ve created a high expectation for yourself. In the end, you would end up niggling and nit-picking ~~like what I’m doing right now~~ without producing any sensible and beneficial writings.

Food for thought

Before I go, I would like to share this video. It’s very inspiring :).

Room (Book review)

2011-03-02T12:09:00.000+08:00

(Spoiler alert!)

Room by Emma Donoghue is utterly riveting, gripping, poignant, heart-wrenching and brilliantly composed. I couldn’t put the book down as my curiosity kept burgeoning as I turned the page. I have finished reading it in a day.

Despite my penchant for reading, I am not a fast reader as I don’t stick to one particular book. Yes, I’m kind of flighty and erratic but my feeling is adamant when it comes to love (okay, I know it’s unrelated).

My main point is that book is a worthy read. You will not end up sleeping with your saliva dribbling on the book or tossing it into the bonfire.

Donoghue uses a five-year-old child called Jack as the narrator and the world is portrayed through Jack’s innocent and malleable eyes. His mother, Ma (what he called) was abducted when she was 19 years old, callously raped and incarcerated in a soundproof garden shed for 7 years. The nefarious captor fathered Jack but that does not stop Ma from loving Jack unconditionally.

I am really amazed by Ma unalloyed stoicism and resilience. Even though Jack is the perpetrator’s son, she didn’t vent her rage and indignation over Jack. Instead, she showers him with her unconditional love which has touched my heart incredibly.

Just imagine being abducted at the age of 19, raped and bore the captor’s child will inevitably give you a daunting nightmare. But for Ma, Jack is everything. Well, the mother’s love is ineffable and can’t be measured indeed.

An overly sensitive and weepy person should equip themselves with a box of tissues. I feel like I want to strangle that veritable evil character called Old Nick. I always get emotional when I'm reading books or watching movies—seriously, very emotional with the high possibility of hitting nearby things ~~or people~~ inadvertently with my corpulent fist.

Okay, let's get back to the book before I litter my post with aimless rambles. The captor is known as Old Nick and I think he is ~~lascivious and lecherous~~ wrinkly old man because of the word “old”. By the way, the author was inspired by Josel Fritzl case who inhumanly raped his own child and imprisoned her in the underground dungeon and bore his seven children.

I think it’s more similar to Jaycee Lee Dugard case who was abducted when she was 11 years old and held captive as sex slave for 18 years and also harrowingly bore his children. These perpetrators should be castrated and whipped to death.

Jack is very naïve, innocent and his perception of the world is limited and deeply moulded by the television because of the confinement. He enjoys residing in the room with his Ma without realizing he is being imprisoned.

Donoghue is a very consummate and brilliant writer and you will not regret reading this.

My missing muse

2011-02-17T21:37:00.000+08:00

Producing a short story is not as easy as it sounds. It is like solving unfathomable complicated math problems. I did write a few short stories (seriously, very short) before, but still have a problem in spewing out monumental ideas from this stagnant brain.

Well, in order to be a great and consummate writer, you have to read immensely. For your information, I am an avid reader. I literally sleep with books and will definitely get lost in ecstasy if I step into a bookstore or library (which I called my place of heaven). Books are indispensable like makeups and I must have at least one in my handbag.

Furthermore, I was chided by my mother because I refused to sell my colossal amount of books. They are my babies— my invaluable property. How could I sell them? It is like giving your biological baby to strangers. I know it sounds dramatic but can’t help it.

That’s why I’m always skint as I love to squander my money on books. If you give me a book as a present, it is like you have given me a priceless diamond from Tiffany & Co. Yes, besides food, books make me fly without wings.

However, it doesn't mean I'm a good writer as I love to ramble aimlessly. Furthermore, I have a problem to write a short story at the moment perhaps because of this intense emotion.

I do have an inspiration— one in particular. But his absence seems to shrivel my spirit to write. Well, it sounds peculiar if I said I inevitably miss him but you can’t fool your heart.

Even though I do like someone at this moment (the one I should forget too because I don't work there anymore and I heard he has a girlfriend), my feeling for him remains the same and I know it is real and irrevocable.

O my Beloved, the-All knowing One, please guard my heart as You’re the best protector.

You are not alone

2011-02-11T23:49:00.000+08:00

Sometimes it’s really difficult to convince your family that you are happier, cheerier and jauntier without a “special someone”. In other words, boyfriend *rolls eyes*.

Seriously, I am happy and overjoyed living as a single person. Actually, being single doesn’t mean that you’re alone, a sore loser, a revolting creature or a guy-repellent as you have the Eternal One by your side.

I see overwhelming tears from people close to me. Their hearts were shattered and broken severely and relentlessly by the perpetrators—fatuous guys and veritable jerks. Well, including me. My heart shattered into million pieces and no one could mend my “irrevocable bruised heart”.

Bear in mind, human’s love is ephemeral. No matter how much you love that person till you would risk your invaluable life or how boldly ~~and idiotically~~ you willing to jump into the lethal volcano to declare and prove your ~~inane~~ love or how much you splurge your money on buying exorbitant things for your loved ones, the reciprocation will never unfurl eternity.

Most people tend to overlook their partner sincere actions and would not bother to appreciate their unflagging efforts. Well, that’s the human's inevitable foible and a bad habit that is difficult to eradicate.

Humans do know the literal meaning of appreciation but they don’t know how to translate it into action. They don’t know how to appreciate until they lose those priceless things or people.

In contrary, God’s love is endless and infinite. No matter how little we display our love to Him, He appreciates and showers His substantial amount of love nonetheless.

I don’t want to get hurt. It’s tiring and gruelling you know. Allah S.W.T had saved me when I was plunged into the abyss of despair. He healed me with His eternal and bountiful love. Hitherto, I never feel lonely as He is always there by my side.

Nevertheless, people around me don’t understand and keep importuning me to search for a creature called “boyfriend”. I am extremely happy right now since my first and last breakup that was several years ago.

I want a soul mate who is destined for me in this world and also the Hereafter and I don’t want my prospective partner to be a mere fling (yup I know I’ve blogged about this a million times but well it’s my blog, I’ve the power to post anything that I want *laughing menacingly*).

I put every ounce of trust in Him. I know one day with Allah’s willing, I would meet my soul mate ~~and would hit his head with my knuckle upon his late arrival~~.

A little twaddle

Who said that a person who is a partial feminist and has a penchant for condemning guys, doesn’t fall in love? As a matter of fact, I do. Hey, I’m a hopeless romantic and a sucker for love stories. I know God’s love is endless and perpetual but falling in love is inevitable—it is beyond our control.

Sometimes, I question myself: - Why I’ve fallen in love with that person inexplicably? I barely know that person but enigmatically, my heart seems to know that person well and there is something inexplicably special about that person. Is it because that person is the first person who has succeeded to unlock my adamant heart after the first and last terrible breakup?

That person is still undeniably important to me notwithstanding I received caustic remarks from people around me. Don’t get me wrong, that person is a guy in case you were wondering.

Many people are worried about me because my sceptical perceptions towards guys. Hey, it doesn’t mean I despise guys except for jerks, lecherous and lustful males. I am still normal, thank god. I should be thankful to God even though I tend to get stuck in the world of unrequited love.

It doesn’t mean that you must have that person albeit you want to take care of that person, want to be there for that person and yearn to curve a broad perpetual smile upon his face.

The most vital thing is that person’s happiness. May Allah protect him forever and always.

That’s all from me. Assalamualaikum

Short note: Valentine’s Day is deemed as haram for Muslims because of relevant and logical arguments. Read further here.

Why must we celebrate love on a specific day where we can celebrate it every day?

An Experience I will never forget

2011-02-02T13:05:00.000+08:00

I’ve learnt a lot from my probationary teaching at a particular private school albeit I only taught for a month.

The staffs are very affable and amiable. The students…er well, reminiscing back on my first day, I got a massive heart attack (metaphorically) and on my third day of work, I suffered from asthma and got a fever (literally). Instead of gaining sympathy from others, they (especially my family) guffawed heartily as if it was the funniest thing ever.

Well, don’t get me wrong. Not all students are recalcitrant, incorrigible and uncouth. Many of them are saccharine and sweet like candy. Plus, one of my students gave me heartfelt presents which incited a spasm of joy and tears. She even cried when she knew I wanted to leave (have a very good reason for my resignation by the way).

Meanwhile the rest are um I guess they are now whooping with joy.

Ah, speaking of students, there are myriads of behaviours and characteristics which can evoke wrath, madness and mirth.

Types of students:

a)Mr.Know All

Ah yes. I have one student who thinks (gender-specific pronoun has to be omitted) is better than the teacher. Smart and bright students will never admit they are smart and in contrary, those who are less intelligent but think they are a genius tend to be insolent and display a disdainful manner. There was once, when I asked my students to do a listening activity, a contemptuous student looked at me and said curtly, “What for?” . Instead of hurling a table at that person, I looked at that person while restraining my anger and answered professionally. When I marked that person’s paper, that person’s essay didn't meet my expected standards at all.

However, students who got high marks are very humble, down-to-earth and well-mannered. Their essays have dazzled me incredibly. They never show a disrespectful manner which makes me respect and admire them more. For your information, I will only respect students who respect me.

b) Sleepyheads

These students have a penchant for sleeping even before I start the lesson. I saw a lot of heads resting on their respective tables as soon as I stepped into the class. Am I that boring?

c) Mischievous and playful ones

These students looove to play. Once, when I assigned them to do some exercises, one of the students didn’t do at all. When I approached him, he looked at me and malingered. In other words, he feigned that he was not feeling well. When I walked forward and spun to check on him, my jaws dropped when I saw him having a sword-fight with his friend using broomsticks with vigour. I was furious and rebuked him for lying to me. I thought he would learn his lesson but I was completely utterly wrong as he jovially played with his friend’s stomach.

d) Magpies

Ah yes. They love to chatter aimlessly and discordantly. At the end, they would not understand what I’ve asked them to do and brazenly asked me what should they do. They are very lucky to have me as a teacher because if they had my fierce lecturer who is allergic to noise, their eardrums would be ravaged by his shrill and high-pitched voice. And they could also die of fear because when my lecturer is enraged, he is scarier than Freddy from “A Nightmare on Elm Street” movie.

e) Unrefined and boorish

On the school sports day, my colleague and I had to make sure the stadium to be impeccably clean. We picked the rubbish along with two kindly cleaners. It’s hard to ask the students for help as they gave us thousands of lame excuses. Only a few good students helped us ~~but there was a catch.~~ We got sunburnt and the job was quite taxing.

Nevertheless, there was one student who was callous and unrefined. When I saw he ate the sunflower seeds and nonchalantly threw them away on the grass, I was utterly nonplussed. I quickly chided him for his irresponsible and appalling behaviour. Impervious to my warning, he looked at me ruthlessly and continued to throw them on the grass.

I was seething with rage because of his uncivilised attitude and consequently blackmailed him that I would report him to the principal. He impudently shouted at me because I spoke in English. Duh, I am an English teacher. Of course I have to speak English. I would never forget his irritating look as if he was a dangerous gangster and would also never ever ever forget the moment when he yelled at me audaciously. Such incident has left an irrevocable bruise in my heart. Hey, my heart is brittle and fragile. Figuratively speaking, it shatters easily like a porcelain vase. Remember, affronting your teachers will only deflect success as respecting your educators is one of the pivotal keys to success.

Despite the pain, something made me happy on that very day. Unfortunately, that moment and time were transient and fleeting.

That's all for today. Assalamualaikum.

PS:Gong Xi Fa Cai to all...

Hiatus

2011-01-18T18:24:00.000+08:00

This blog is on hiatus for a while. Will be back on February 5th. Stay tuned.

The Blankness

2010-12-17T00:28:00.000+08:00

I know it has been a long time since I last updated my undeniably boring blog and I know I suppose to write a ~~longwinded~~ post about my sister’s wedding but I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days. My pen seems to be inkless. Well, I don’t mean it literally but metaphorically (can’t help it, I’m a poetic person).

Perhaps, is it because the absence of something? I feel demotivated and pessimistic. I’m not like that you know as I’m a very very very very very very very optimist person (to emphasize and depict how highly optimist I am).

What’s wrong with me? *sigh* Sometimes I wish my heart could be transplanted and exchanged with a new impeccable heart.

What I see in my mind is a big daunting blankness. Of course, it’s scary. I am having a writer’s block—the callous monster which has impeded my reservoir of ideas.

Moreover, I seem to suffer from a disease called laziness. My sluggish brain and stubby fingers are currently immobile while my unbridled hormone is out of control where I bawl for no reason, eat voraciously like I’ve never eaten before and easily evolve into an incredible hulk. Don’t blame me, blame the hormone—the perpetrator.

Well, I guess it’s not just about the hormone but perhaps the absence of something. Something that is unreachable but highly important to me. Here’s a poem of the day by moi entitled “Blank”:-

Blank

Blank. Blank. Blank.

Words? They were usually

Like the river incessantly flowing,

But they evaporated into oblivion

Since the burgeoning absence of you.

Blank. Blank. Blank.

I am an inkless pen,

A wingless bird,

A sightless person,

Because of you.

-Nuruljannah-

Disastrous or just plain lucky?

Last Tuesday, I was awakened by mobile ringing tone. Luckily, I didn’t mumble or blurt out things which may lead to rejection like, “What do you want from me?” or “WHAT? DON’T YOU KNOW I WAS ABOUT MARRYING FAHRIN AHMAD IN MY DREAM (a Malaysian heart-throb actor)?”

I was half-awake and still in trance. A familiar amicable voice piped up in the phone. “Hello, Miss Nuruljannah? Are you free today? We would like to interview you”. Only Allah s.w.t knew how I felt. She called me back! I thought they have changed my mind about interviewing me as I couldn’t make it for the previous interview. I was thrilled, exhilarated and elated.

Because of desperation and the unfeasibility to change the date, I impetuously said yes. They wanted to interview me on that particular day.After running gleefully, rushing into my younger’s brother room and had woken him up with my deafening voice, “HEY, I GOT AN INTERVIEW”, a small voice piped up, “You’re not prepared, you idiot.

And when it dawned on me, I knew I was doomed and would only embarrass myself and tarnish my university’s name with my sheer stupidity. Instead of getting prepared, I squandered my time for an hour saying “I’m doomed, I’m doomed” and continued to update my Facebook status, stating the same inane message “I’m doomed, I’m doomed”.

A spectre of appalling image popped out in my mind where I could see myself messing up the interview by providing gibberish answers and littering it with particles “um” “er” “uh”,“duh” and the like.

Alhamdulillah, the interviewer did the talking. She didn’t ask me tough and obfuscated questions which was a great relief. And my nose was flared when she complimented and lauded my university, International Islamic University Malaysia (IIUM).

Nevertheless, I didn’t put a high hope on it as this is my first interview. Moreover, my ~~annoying~~ younger brother told me that the first interview would always be disastrous. So, I‘ve inevitably put this mind-set of failing (blame my annoying younger brother).

Alhamdulillah, with Allah s.w.t’s help, I got the job. Thank you, Allah.

Without the Almighty One, I know I will never ever get the job. Seriously, trust me. I know me— daft, klutz, clumsy, gawky and have a monumental amount of anxiety.

Now I know why I didn’t get a single call for an interview at Kuala Lumpur after sending 5 or 6 resumes as perhaps He wants me to work here at my beloved hometown Miri. I don’t believe in luck by the way because the success emanates solely from Him. Okay, that’s all for today. Assalamualaikum and take care.

[Short note: I really miss someone inexplicably—the same person who’s highly important to me despite he doesn’t know. I hope he’s okay and always be happy. Honestly, I could not stop being solicitous and I don’t know why -_-‘.]

The wedding pressure

2010-11-23T02:35:00.000+08:00

Currently, I’m as busy as a bee with my sister’s wedding preparations. The tension, apprehension, unbridled crazy hormone, overdramatic dramas are currently infiltrating the atmosphere. These things however are common when it comes to wedding preparations. They are also counted as a test— to gauge the patience and team’s spirit between you and your spouse-to-be as well as the family members of course.

And yes, a single sister of the bride-to-be has to brace herself for the question that will definitely be asked by ~~noisy~~ people, “When is your turn?”

What is the best answer for someone who doesn’t have the “prospective marriage partner”? Is it a, b, c, d or e?

a)I’m cursed I tell you, cursed! ( with the saliva spluttering all over that person's face) And I think I’m a guy repellent (crying while blowing the nose with that person’s overly high-priced dress).

b) I’m waiting for my prince to sweep off my feet (then starts singing the song from “Snow White” entitled “Someday My Prince Will come” dramatically in front of the person to scare him or her off).

c)Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day (reciting Shakespeare’s Macbeth poem while holding a fake skeleton head but would claim it’s a genuine one whose head happened to be a person who asked the same question).

d) Starts to laugh hysterically and vehemently (this will indeed scare that person off).

e) All the answers above.

Which one will you choose? Nah, just joking ~~but I wish I could do it.~~ Well frankly, I’m quite unconventional and my view and notion may be clashed with the society’s thinking (but not with Islam because Islam is realistic and practicable and you have to do a thorough research in order to realize that).

For example, I don’t mind proproposing to a man (if I have fallen in love with him but I don’t think my parents will give a positive response as they will definitely go berserk). Many people will be stunned and flabbergasted with their mouths agape because in my society it is deemed as negative.

Well, what’s wrong with a woman proposing to a man? It’s not unlawful. Siti Khadijah(Prophet Muhammad s.a.w’s first wife) herself had proposed to him. If we wait for the person who we’ve fallen in love with (who might not know our existence) to make a move, perhaps we might grow a very long beard and break a world record.

As long as we don’t fall into the cesspool of vice or against Islamic teaching, go ahead. Fear only Allah s.w.t’s judgement, not people.

In the rigid society where I live in, involving in pre-marital relationship is deemed as normal and whoever doesn’t have one must be freaked out especially when that person is reaching the critical age for marriage. Few days ago, I burst into anger when my younger brother joked that my mother started to worry about me as I don’t have a “boyfriend”. I raised my voice asking that could that “boyfriend” help me when I’m being interrogated by 2 angles when I die? I bet he would run faster than the Olympic athletes when he saw them. No more of, “I will always be with you” ideology.

Seriously, why should I have a boyfriend? To fill in the gap of the cold loneliness and give me the endless happiness? Yeah right! Don’t make me laugh. The things which they will give are false promises, a phony hope, broken heart, metal-like pride and overwhelming tears. Moreover, he will only drag me away from Allah s.w.t. Sorry to overgeneralize and I know I may sound profoundly emotional but can’t help it.

I don’t want a boyfriend but I yearn for a good loyal husband who will accompany me on this earth and the Hereafter.

I know I love to joke around asking you to set me up with someone but bear in mind that is just a mere joke. If I were desperate, you would see my advertisement of searching for the potential husband at the campus, local newspapers, Facebook or here, in this very blog. Right now, I am not in the mood for it. Well, only Allah s.w.t knows why.

Remember, Allah s.w.t’s love is the greatest love of all but many people couldn’t see it.

The real beauty

Moreover, what infuriates me the most is when people make fun of the fat and stout people. Seriously it is extremely annoying. Many people perceive beauty when a girl has an hour-glass body shape, a very slim and slender body like a broomstick, an impeccable fair complexion and the like. Yeah, that kind of girl is beautiful all right but are those characteristics truly portrayed a real beauty? Does that person have a stunning and beautiful heart? For me, the beauty from outer appearance is a mere mirage and purely ephemeral—it does not last forever.

The real definition of beauty is subjective. Yes, I agree. Beauty is in the eye of beholder. For me, beauty lies in the heart not on the appearance or assets. The “cleaner” is your heart, the more beautiful you are. That’s all. Assalamualaikum.

Feeling like a knife pierced through the heart

2010-11-06T23:37:00.000+08:00

Right now I feel like a knife pierced through my heart. The feeling of innumerable and ineffable pain, only Allah s.w.t could understand. I feel like banging my head against the brick wall. I don’t know why I have a penchant for messing up my exams—final exams, for your information. In my previous two exams, I have screwed up successfully.

Why oh why I love to do that? This is my final semester and yet I still did it? No matter how hard I try to conquer my anxiety and answer gingerly the questions, I still end up producing the complete rubbish essays.

I am helplessly engulfed by the pain, sorrow, melancholy and [just insert any negative word here, I give you the freedom]. My tank of optimism has also plummeted to zilch.

Sometimes I feel I’m the stupidest person in the world. And yeah, I am currently feeling downhearted. I feel like I am falling into a bottomless pit. To clamber back up needs a lot of positive energy. Allah s.w.t is enough, I know but I am not a good servant. I always let the useless and insignificant things to drag me away from Him.

And yes, I feel an acute pain. Not just because I've screwed up my exams (as a matter of fact, I am) but because of other matter which deals with the heart. “Why must I listen to you, heart? Look what have you done”.

I need You, Ar-Rahman. Please heal this excruciating pain. I feel so far away from You. :(.

Smile

2010-10-27T16:08:00.000+08:00

I just feel like curving a big wide smile. As a matter of fact, I do feel profoundly sad at the same time. You never know how happy I’m just by looking at your smile. It’s like flying without wings. Yes I know it sounds mawkish, soppy and “vomit-triggering”, but the heart cannot lie. Go ahead and spew out some green substance from your stomach, I understand.

Even though I may be insignificant, you are undeniably important to me. Heart can be enigmatic and inexplicable but sometimes it can see far beyond what our eyes can’t see. What I can do is to pray for your safety in the world and Hereafter. Only Allah s.w.t knows my genuine and true sentiment. If only you could understand.

The Pessimistic

2010-10-26T01:00:00.000+08:00

I’m currently feeling:

Dejected, pessimistic, downhearted, a sore loser and a blatant dunce.

Because of two things:

1) Yesterday (Monday) was the last class for my undergraduate study and I feel extremely and profoundly sad. Words themselves seem inadequate to express my sentiment.

2) My midterm and quiz’s results make me feel that I’m a true and a genuine idiot and a sore loser. I could not even write a proper formal letter. How on earth could I be a successful writer?People will say, “Hey, look at her, she could not even write a proper formal letter. She always gets a terrible mark for her quizzes ha-ha”.

Thinking about becoming a writer? Dream on, me. Dream on! Seriously I need some inspiring words. Throw me some stimulating adages and quotes. I need to feed my spirit. The cloud of pessimism seems to block my shinning sun of hope and optimism.

It reminds me of a poem called, “The Pessimistic” by the author who I can’t remember his or her name and the poem which I had badly analyzed in my terrible midterm (notice the negative words..ooo, look at me, look at me, I’m applying what I’ve learnt yippee). Okay, I am just being sarcastic—well, a tad. This is to show how terribly dejected and despondent I am.

The poem is aptly described my current feeling. Well, nothing to write but the utter nonsense. Okay, that’s all for today as I feel downhearted. In addition, the ideas seem to dissipate into the oblivion. Assalamualaikum.

Invaluable Memories

2010-10-24T22:27:00.000+08:00

I will miss yesterday, the day before yesterday and the day before before and the day um okay you get my drift right? In other words, I’m going to miss everything—attending classes, running like an Olympic athlete to classes, ~~absenting from classes,~~ listening to the beloved ~~and some scary~~ lecturers’ lectures, faltering and wavering during presentations, ~~gawking at handsome Turkish guys(you know I’m joking right?)~~ and of course the deafening voice of the mamak and his gangs (they will yell at the top of their lung after they have prepared your food and boy, I’m going to miss that haha) and also their special and irresistible tandoori chicken and fried crispy cuttlefish.

However, the people who I’m going to miss deeply, incredibly and frantically are my beloved crazy roommates Idot(Idah), Ajie (Azie), Yan (miss to annoy them and make them puke), as well as ex roommates, beloved friends (you know who you’re :) and my duo, my partner in crime who has been my classmate and best friend for 5 constant years, that’s um what’s her full name again? Haha just joking Sue bushuk(her name), please don’t kill me.

I know she will crush me with her bare hand if I dare to forget. By the way, don’t get me wrong. The term bushuk(means stinky) is a strong kinship name.

And last but not least, that person whom I really care inexplicably and silently for only God knows how long (is it for almost 2 years? I don’t know), yes you. You, I’m going to miss the most. I’ve accepted the fact after living in denial for so long.

Please, I need some boxes of tissues. Yeah, you heard me. Boxes. I get all touchy and overly sensitive (well I’m innately overly sensitive by the way) especially when the semester is reaching to its end.

Islamic Literature class

Last Friday is the last day for presentations. Aw, I’m going to miss that class deeply. I love to learn about Islamic writers as I’m not really exposed to them. I've learnt a lot from that class. Thank you, sir.

No, it’s not Dr.Umar who taught the class but the new lecturer from Bangladesh. He is really kind, benevolent, and very meticulous when it comes to students' attendance. When he is cracking a joke, we will not expect that is a joke as his face expression depicts the undeniably seriousness.

For example, he asked us to consult with him at his office and bring along our mid-term paper, quiz and assignment. When I went there with my duo, Sue bushuk, he asked for my assignment and so I handed it to him. He held my paper and looked at me solemnly, “I have to deduct your mark”. Only God knew how I felt. I was speechless and recoiled in horror.

Perhaps because I didn’t attend his class the day before, I blurted in my mind. But I have a very reasonable and good reason for it— I accidentally spilled nasi lemak’s gravy (Malaysian food) over my new white hijab and dress, I repeat white hijab and dress. Therefore, I have to change otherwise people will look at me with a smirk and say, “Nice colour”. Okay where was I? Oh yeah, then I looked at him like a child looked at his or her furious mother without uttering a word and with the jaws agape (luckily there were no flies or mosquitoes otherwise they would make think my mouth as the doorway to heaven).

With a serious face, he claimed that he was joking. He actually added my marks. Then, he told us that many students disagreed vehemently about the mark deduction. Okay, seriously, who will agree gleefully? 1 mark is tantamount to an immense amount of gold. Losing it is like losing all the precious and invaluable gold from Tiffany co.

He does remind me of Dr.Normala sometimes (my lecturer too). Haha..I am honestly and seriously missing her classes.

Others should emulate him as he is approachable, empathic and very observant. Even though he is only teaching us for only one semester, he memorizes all of our names. Honestly, lecturers who are not concerned about their students and love to create an enormous barrier will indeed shrivel my spirit to learn.

Oh yeah, on that very same day we had a farewell party (sort of) after the presentations. It almost trickled my tears but the food impeded it from running as food makes me happy.

Frankly, I don’t want to be separated from my beloved friends. I know I could not stop the time but one for thing for sure, all the unforgettable and sweet memories will always be cherished and safely locked in my mind.

The unforgettable memory: Jogging around IIUM campus and camwhoring

Yes, I proudly to announce for the first time in my whole life ever, my friends and I jogged around the IIUM’s campus (International Islamic University Malaysia). Apart from getting the exasperating and irksome noises from the passersby (pesky guys mostly), we had so much fun. I was all agog as I couldn’t believe my eyes, I did it. I freaking did it. But of course, I didn’t run incessantly without stopping (are you crazy?I could die of exhaustion, you know). I haven’t jogged for such a long time and that is why I slept like a log last night.

That’s all from me. Assalamualaikum.

There is no such thing as a coincidence

2010-10-19T14:15:00.000+08:00

Assalamualaikum and greetings my beloved fellow readers (err is there any?)

First of all, I would like to apologize for not updating my blog as I’m really busy, busier than the Prime Minester (lol, joking..You know I can’t help it as I love to exaggerate).

My final semester

The final semester will end soon but there is no sign of abating in my work. Alhamdulillah yesterday was my last presentation in my final semester. I'm relieved but oddly I miss presenting despite the failure to manage my irrational anxiety. I did sound like Patrick from Spongebob Squarepants as I uttered a long “uuuhhhhh” with a distrait face. How on earth am I going to be a lecturer one day if I fail to curtail my big fat anxiety? My students might call me Miss Patrick Star. Noooooo.

Well, my confidence will increase if I see my inspiration. Let’s say that person is like an intricate formula of mathematics but yet, that person still inspires me a lot and the one that I inevitably and inexplicably care about.

Alright, moving on. In this life, I have learnt a lot of things. Allah s.w.t is also the best teacher. He is Ar-Rashid. I love John Dewey quote:

“Education is life itself”.

And yes, he is right. We can learn numerous of things if you contemplate and mull over the matters. Everything happens for a reason even though it is a littlest thing.

I love this quote too from the movie, “Serendipity” (one of my favourite movies of all time).

“Life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences but rather, its a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite, sublime plan"

In other words, the occurrence of a particular thing is not just a mere meaningless coincidence. Although it may appear trivial and insignificant, it can lead to the important event that could change your life forever.

An obvious example: my first and insyaAllah last breakup (oh yeah, sound overconfident am I?) and actually there many things I want to enumerate but you might die of reading if I list them all.

I was a crass and immature girl. I used to think that the everlasting love was emanated from humans and I was absolutely and deeply wrong. It comes from Allah s.w.t solely. Ar-Rahman has taught me that if you love humans, they will never know how to appreciate (most of them). Trust me. Been there, done that.

However, if you love Allah s.w.t, He will love you more and protect you. He is the best protector. Cliché as it may sound but hey, it’s a reminder. Please remind me and knock my head with my heavy black bag if I have forgotten (no I’m not joking about its weight, it’s really heavy as it could kill people if it were thrown). Like I said for the umpteenth times, I’m wealthy with flaws. Therefore, such experience has opened my eyes.

The Best Protector

Let’s say I’m a daft and careless creature um okay okay, as the matter of fact, I am. I don’t want to sound boastful and disdainful but every time when I lose valuable things like my cell phone (especially this of course), wallet and the like, I end up getting them back. Alhamdulillah. Allah knows that I’m a forgetful and clumsy person.

Even one of my friends was surprised. How could you get back all the valuable things if you had left them somewhere constantly especially at the public places like the library, cafe and the like? There are many crooks and dishonest people out there.

Nevertheless, with Allah’s help and protection, you priceless things will be safe. If you ask for His protection, He will protect you. Trust me. I talk er I mean type based on my experience.

Always recite this ayah: At-taubah:129 and also this:

HasbiyAllahu wa ni'mal wakeel

(Allah is my availer and protector and the best of aids).

It’s a powerful dua. Recite it especially if you are beleaguered by problems. I remember when a particular device of mine was stuck for the whole night. The day after that, it was still failed to function and I was frustrated and disappointed.

When I recited the dua, miraculously, it was fixed. I almost collapsed because I was too shock. It was functioning straight away after I recited the dua and said that Allah has the power over all things and I know it was not a mere coincidence.

But remember, when you want to recite a dua, you must put every ounce of your trust and belief in Him otherwise, He would not help you.

By the way, this dua was recited by Prophet Ibrahim (Abraham) a.s. when he was thrown into the pit of fire. Hence, with Allah s.w.t’s help, the fire didn’t harm him at all and it was miraculously put off.

Enigmatic heart

Don’t you ever wish that you had a chance to make that person whom you really care happy? Don’t you ever wish that person knew that you really care? Don’t you ever wish that that person would understand every ounce of your feelings without letting out a huge guffaw? Well in my case, not in the million years. Perhaps I will keep them in my treasure chest—in my ~~annoying~~ heart.

Sometimes words themselves are not enough to paint the vivid and striking picture of emotions.

Sometimes words can impel people to make faces or spew out the green stuff from their stomach.

Sometimes words are like the homeless. They are unaccepted and rejected.

Nevertheless, they are always coming from the soul—genuine, true and sincere.

That’s all from me, assalamualaikum.