Sunday, January 22, 2012

The pain of write-things,

Assalamualaikum w.b.t.

It was a more than a year ago, when I was in high school, my English teacher, Mrs Messie, instructed me and my friends to write an essay. She wrote the question on the board (we still use chalks).

"If you have the chance to be anyone in the world. Who will you be and why?"

I did not quite remember my reaction, but I do remember that I wasn't thinking too much. I already had a pen in my hand thus I wrote,

"I want to be a teacher."

Remembering that, and founded the evidence in my old school book made me... think. For me right here, right now, being an Engineering student who struggle with the world to achieve a good CGPA every semester, I couldn't think of what I was thinking back then when I was 16? A teacher? I knew it was my dream and still is but it was a chance to be anyone in the world and I straight away go for a teacher? I thought a lot about this during the day and I finally found the answer. I was being, simply... honest.

Because truth to be told, the dream of being a teacher, by far, might be the dream I won't achieved. Apart of being a kindergarten teacher, of course.

I was brutally honest because at that point of my life, when people asked and I answered, I want to be a teacher, they will reflected back by sayings such as, "You just can't be a teacher" or "You can't just be a teacher." Something like that.

I wrote on my second paragraph of the essay;

"The first reason why I want to be a teacher is because I love school. If I am a teacher, I can always spend my time at school everyday."

It is painful to read it now because I haven't been in school for a while. I haven't even been in Shah Alam for a while. I came back occasionally.

I ended my writing with;

"It would be great if I can teach at grade-A school but it would be much wonderful to have an opportunity to teach at a village."

It is painful.
For now what is on my mind is to move out from Malaysia. I don't want to, I couldn't, live here if I have the chance. Not that I don't like my own country but it is killing me. The condition is so bad from my own point of view until I reached my decision that it can't be call a Muslims' country. What I wanted now and for the rest of my life is to be a Muslim living in a place that applies Islamic rules and regulations.

Stepping out of CFS, is like stepping out of a prison that I love dearly. If I could put it in a better words, I wouldn't even say CFS is a prison at all. You can see Islam everywhere, anywhere. Even if you close your eyes the breath you take will calm you down no matter what. I love the times hearing people reciting Quran, zikr and shalawat. Sorry to say but I hate listening to songs. Yes, I do like some but please, not out loud. This is not a competition of being good or bad. You can't say I am a good person just because I don't listen to songs, but the choice of the songs are wrong. You can't say I don't listen to Korean songs because I do when my best friend  here in SA is listening to it. I know SuJu exist, I know there's someone name Tae Min in ShiNee. I tried hard to be a good friend to everyone but enough is enough.

We are matured enough to know when to stop doesn't we?

People said, I couldn't be a good teacher because I'll be too soft. I might be moderate at debating and public speaking but teaching, I'll be listening to students more than they will do to me.

It probably applies to me also as a da'ie and a friend. I know I can't judge my own self, but hovering alone in my dorm almost 24 hours per day? I know when to receive a clue of not being a better friend. I blamed myself, of course. Because there is no one else. I thought, this semester would be amazing, and I was proven wrong. I broke down, and I walked from the 9th floor to the 1st floor, trying to find a friend to talk to. And I can only found one, who listened very carefully. I wasn't asking for an advice because it might be biased. I went back to the 9th floor. Sat, and look down. It was way high and I thought, "Now I know why people commit suicides."

And yet, because of I being a very logic person and the most important thing, I, being a Muslim, can't stop thinking. There is little almost none question about jumping or not, the question aroused were; "Why even people kill themselves? Doesn't it hurt? Allah forbid us to commit suicide. Hell is more torturing than real life."

So I stayed for a while, thinking, "Am I losing my mind because of stress? Nope, it can't be. Crazy people might not think like this."

So I stayed, watching the clouds and the view of CFS from up and above from the 9th floor. Subhanallah, how could I ever be sad, knowing Allah is there? How could I even be stressed, when some people doesn't even have the chance to look up to the sky?

Whenever I try to tell somebody that whatever they are doing is wrong, I would try a soft approach. But most of the time people doesn't listen to softness. And when I try another kind of approach, people will highlight that. Believe me, at a white sheet, you'll always see the black spots. I am trying to be brutally honest again, by saying, enough is just enough.

Dunia kata pergi, kubur kata mari.

I can't say that I hate, but I don't like people saying; "Just be yourself." Whatever that you define "yourself" depends on you. Of course, even I can't resist good things. But aside of that, there might be no way of you standing at Mahsyar, replying to your deeds or sins by saying, "I was just being myself."

Think, if a thief like to steal from you, and say right to your face that he is just being himself as a thief, what will that make you feel?

p.s: I think, I am being sarcastic in this post. 'Afwan 'ala kulli hal.


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بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم