“I want to see you.
Know your voice.
Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner.
Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.
Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.
Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.
I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”
― Rumi
I learned something this morning.
I learned that,
This lesson makes me wonder whether all my blog posts are really beneficial for others. They are true, maybe good but are they useful?
I first started sharing my thoughts in this blog for the purpose of documenting and expressing my thoughts and feelings. Another reason is simply to practise writing.
However, as time passes and I grow wiser each and everyday, I feel like everything I do is useless, not only writing this blog la, I mean I couldn’t seem to find the purpose of whatever I am doing.
Until recently, my parents went to perform hajj and I was left as their amanah to take care of my sisters and the house, I started to find meaning in whatever I am doing. I sought to learn Islam more and am still seeking, and I want to be a better Muslim.
But then to start preaching in this blog is not my agenda la, since I just started learning and understanding, not yet an ustazah.
However, I am trying to write only something that is beneficial so that I feel I won’t waste the readers time. I prefer no one to read this and everyone to read and understand Al-Quran better, yet who am I to ask everyone kan?
I still want to write, so a better way of writing is to share something beneficial la, something that will at least evoke your thinking and drive you to be a better person. It may not only be Islamic, (know what I mean?) but any good values are Islamic in nature.
There was a boy who only brought 10 cent to school. His favourite dish was rojak, and its price was 20 cent. In order to buy the rojak, he would only eat nasi berlauk which cost 5 cent and drink from the tap so that he could save 5 cent per day and, after 4 days he will get to eat the rojak.
This is my dad’s story. Among other stories that he told us, this story is the one that I found profoundly melancholic. It saddens me in a way that I have never experienced saving some money for the purpose of eating my favourite dish. Maybe I used to save my allowance to buy my favourite shoes or a brand new hand phone, but when it comes to eating, I have never. This implies that my dad comes from a very poor family that my grandparents could not afford to buy him his favourite dish.
My mom told my nenek this story and she broke into tears, and was moved by how kind my father was that he never asked her to buy the rojak. She said if my dad asked, she would have given him the money. 20 cent during that time was so much to ask from my nenek.
Learning this fact is really depressing considering that I was not like my father. I usually ask whatever I want because I know my father can afford it.
This makes me realise that I don’t have such story as great as my dad’s to tell them.
Apart from the great story, I regret that I was never content with what I have. The proof is that I always want more, want better things. So lets pray that we are content with what we have.
During my practicum, there was a saying that keeps me going, especially on Mondays, when it was impossible to beat the Monday blues, or else I would end up giving students a tedious work, just because yours truly was not in the mood to teach. I am just a normal human being, I am not always in the mood. Get what I mean? Geddit? So here is the ‘mantra’
If a doctor makes a mistakes, he kills one patient,
If a bus driver makes a mistakes, he kills 30 passengers,
If a pilot makes a mistakes, he kills 300 passengers,
But if a teacher makes a mistake, he kills the future generation.
I learned this saying when there was a short course for English teachers held in my school, so I am not sure how to cite this, but it is just for sharing my naughty thoughts. 
Then how in the world I would kill the future generation kan? So this was really working to get myself going. But then, what if a teacher is killed?
Say, I was killed in an accident, the heading in the newspaper should be
A teacher is killed in an accident, so is the future generation
Heh. I wish.
So what say you?
Hello dreamers!
I say hi to the dreamers because I have noticed regular visitors to my blog.. and I assume that you guys have read my latest post and I pray that you are at least considering a way to realizing you dreams.
To those regular visitors.. you make me nervous, because what I wrote revolves around myself and for my own documentation, so when I have people who read what I wrote, somehow it pressures me to write on a better topic. Hehe.
I appreciate that you read my ramblings, and please pray for my istiqamah (consistency) in writing.
I forgot to relate to you in my latest post, so if you feel like you are doing nothing to make a difference ( trust me, I have been there – the land of frustration), know that the greatest difference you can make is within yourself.
I have been struggling to find something that is meaningful to do, yet there is a limitation then I figured out that I cannot be frustrated with the people around me, with the system, with everything (these things used to depress me – STRANGE kan?)
“You wander from room to room
Hunting for the diamond necklace
That is already around your neck!”
― Rumi
YES. I am such a big dreamer. I used to be like this, until recently, I learned that I don’t have to make a difference on everyone’s lives but to change my perception that everyone created by the almighty has his own purpose in this world. So it eased me in a way that I could finally take a break from thinking too much.
Sometimes the enemy is within yourself. Know that everyone wants you to be happy. Yes. Everyone, because if you show your pain, no one likes it. Get what I mean? Get it? Geddit? No? Okay. Mission unaccomplished.
I suddenly had the urge to write, just because it has been so long since I last spilled my thoughts on this site. The reason – I just renewed my password, another is I was seeking after truth about myself. STRANGE. I should not have any problem figuring out who I am, because I am old enough. Okay. I need not to ramble more on my absenteeism on this blog.
I was inspired to write today after I answered a questionnaire, for a dear friend, and I was in dilemma to answer a question.
“Why did you choose this program?” – For those who do not know, I am a final semester student of TESL and the question asks me why did I choose to study in this program.
I was torn to answer between – a. I wanted to teach, b. I was forced by my parents.
Because honesty is my policy, I chose the answer b. Yes I was kinda forced, I think the most suitable word would be, my dad suggested me this program. So when your parents suggested something, they know what’s best for you, and since pleasing my parents is my policy (haha!) I chose this program.
… And I am proud that I survived four and a half years learning to be a teacher, not to mention 4 months of teaching experience in a school.
To answer that I am forced by my parents does not do justice to them as I did not feel forced, instead I enjoyed this course, and I surprised myself too. Let’s walk down my memory lane for couple of minutes.
When I was in primary school, I was the kind of student who no one would notice except for some of my close friends, and librarians. I was a librarian too. I did not like to attend classes, so I did ponteng some. Where did I go then? I would hide in a corner in a library, burying my nose in those autobiographies of world greatest inventors and scientists, I learned what is a nobel prize before my friends know what it is actually, I dig into the meaning of sweat, tears and blood of those people. I really adored people who made a difference to the world.
Since I really look up to those people, and since I read too much stuff on inventions, I was in love with science subject and I used to read the revision book cover to cover. A bookstore was my heaven at that time. I was only 10 and I studied hard than when I was 17. I didn’t study to score A, but I was passionate about discovering things.
So I had this inner drive that I want to make a difference someday.
Years passed and life must go on, I am still passionate to learn, yet I kinda let go of my childhood dream. I thought that I have no chance of realizing my dream. I mean, come on la, be rational…
I am not that creative, I am not genius, I don’t know a thing to invent something. I am no Steve Jobs baby.
So what do I have to do to realize my dreams then? I found an answer during my practicum. Little did I expect that by being a teacher makes a lot of differences to my students. I don’t want to elaborate on what kind of differences I made, but I have felt and noticed it. I am touched, because not only that I feel I made a difference in their lives, but I learned something greater from them.
That it is not too late to realize my dream.
So in order to do justice to my parents, I should actually answer the question as – b. I was forced by my parents, and p.s. I am in love with teaching profession.
