Today is our Independence Day. So, by default, last night is the 'countdown' night. Usually Malaysians will gather at Dataran Merdeka and wait till midnight for the 'ding-dong-bell' of the Sultan Abdul Samad's famous clock. People, from cute little baby to that-so-called-baby, are busily celebrating the historical moment, with or without family (or maybe with family-member-to-be). Since most of my blog readers are Malaysians, I should not waste my time and my limited vocab to elaborate or picture the scene in mind. I bet, from the moment we can speak and see, we've watched the Independence celebration like thousands time. The fiesta is a part of our life. And that is the challenge. To question something that has been in our blood for years. I wonder about the celebration. People stay till late night. The crowds are just crazy, with the shouting and all. The music is way too loud, but some people say it's cool. Don't they feel damn hot? How can a mother handle their child, or even children, in such hectic environment? Hats off from me if she's under control! And don't let me starts with the teens. What's up with the dress and the holding-hand scene? Well, it's the moment like this people shows affection towards one another. How sweet isn't it to watch fire crackers together? Like that scene in the movie, where the prince charming and the princess lives happily ever after. Yeah, maybe I don't understand this lovey-dovey stuff. Pardon me. I've been in this foreign land for nearly 3 years, and my intelligence can hardly tell between the Malays and the Caucasians. Hmm, I think my brain has gone mad. So, 'Dong, dong, dong' (make it twelve times). We shout 'Merdeka, Merdeka, Merdeka!'. Then, here comes the live entertainment and things like those. Yeah, it's boring to have no music and without the idols, aye? Late night, people left the scene. If the Dataran can shout, it will not shout 'merdeka!' but it will say 'clean me up!' ever wonder why? Because someone forgot to do the cleaning and the rubbish left the DBKL workers for no holidays. It is during this season the press is talking about our nation and history. A lot of people do the talking but not many do the thinking. When I left Malaysia years ago, many people advised me to take care of myself, with all the 'don't forget your root' and all. So, here I am, wondering about my country. Maybe we just need to think about the 'root and all', once we stepped out of Malaysia? Humor me if this is what we say globalization. Entertain me if that is what we call cool-stuff-kinda-thing. Right me if I'm wrong. But what I see is what I believe. But, don't get me wrong. I still love Malaysia to bits. And I have to admit there are lots of physical development throughout the country. 2 years away from my country, the fast growth is undeniable. But it's not the visible advance that caught my blurry eyes but this one question in my mind, Act like Westerners, so why bother to be Malaysians? -menang bersorak, kampung tergadai, ever wonder who's clapping his hand?-

You know a dream is like a river, ever changing as it flows.
And a dreamer's just a vessel that must follow where it goes.
Trying to learn from what's behind you and never knowing what's in store
makes each day a constant battle just to stay between the shores.
And I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry.
Like a bird upon the wind, these waters are my sky.
I'll never reach my destination if I never try,
So I will sail my vessel 'til the river runs dry.
Too many times we stand aside and let the water slip away.
To what we put off 'til tomorrow has now become today.
So don't you sit upon the shore and say you're satisfied.
Choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tides.

by Garth Brooks, song "The River" co-written with Victoria Shaw

Tanah dan landasan ini penuh misteri. Lagaknya retak. Biarpun ia bertampal, mungkin juga retak menanti belah. Sudah lama rasanya kebingungan. Mengharapkan tempat yang pijak ini stabil umpama pemancing yang menanti umpannya ditangkap ikan, sedangkan dia tahu cacing tidak di mata kail. Bumi gegar lagi. Barangkali petanda perlu selamatkan diri, sebelum gegaran menelan. Tapi, gelora dalam hati bagaikan memaku kaki dari berlalu. Apatah yang ada dibumi ini hingga kaku derap langkah? Hati, tenanglah, agar rasional kembali menjadi paksi keputusan ini. Bumi gegar lagi, kali kedua. Hati gelojak lagi, seribu kali, atau mungkin lebih. Dalam kalut fikiran bergegas mencari jalan selamat. Jangan terlalu manjakan hati. Didik hati ini! Jangan terlalu menyerah! Jangan diikut hati yang lemah imannya. Titik-titik hitam mengabur pandangan. Masakan dalam jerebu jelas penglihatannya? Umpama jalan raya di waktu malam. Jalan masih jalan. Tapi tanpa cahaya, tahukah tempat tuju? Betulkah derapan kaki meluru? Bumi gegar lagi, kali ketiga. Hati? Aku sudah penat mencari keseimbangan. Biarkan kewarasan fikiran berkata sekali ini. Apakah timbang-taranya jika tanah beretakan ini dipilih lebih dari keselamatan diri? Didik hati ini! Jangan terlalu diikut lentok manja. Bumi gegar lagi, kali keberapa tidak penting lagi. Pasti, ia yang terakhir sekali. Selalu aku marahkan gegaran-gegaran yang meronta-rontakan hati. Tapi sekarang, aku berterima kasih diatas setiap desir angin sekalipun. Tipu jika tidak merindui tanah misteri itu. Tapi aku lebih takutkan api yang meratah isi dan menghangus tulang putih. Didik hati ini!

Last Saturday was a blast. Completely overwhelmed by the responsible and responses. Well, thanks to Him, everything turned out to be ok!

Learning about history leaves us nothing but guidance. The good thing about the past is that it remains there. It stays there till forever. And nothing we can do to change it, even a bit, either we like it or not. Years ago, learning history back in school is just for the sake of my exam. I remembered it by hard. That's a big mistake. We should learn history by heart. That one thing that pumps the blood throughout our body and that one thing, that when it stops functioning, we simply die. Are we?

Nevertheless, history is a difficult subject itself. Circumstances make it sounds sooo boring and dull. Maybe that's what others want us to feel. So that whatever hidden, remains unknown to the naked eyes. And we are happily surrendered to the darkness.

Blindfolded by whatever the world can offer.

The song they sang, send us straight to bed. The sex appeal on that fancy dress is what we call a superb trend. The sports on air, fixed the eyes. And the smoking habits, reflect the coolest. Faith is clarified by IC, 'modern' look is just a disguise. Fun is what we want as 21 is too early to die. Food is indulgence, eat all you can. Fashion is the master, we are the slave.

Present is a result of yesterdays. And present patterns tomorrows.

To know what a country will be like in the future, just look at the teenagers.

Let me see, academic record increases year by year. So, most teens are well-educated, locally or overseas. Hurmm, maybe we can start with the juvenile record? Or what about the number of concerts a typical teen went? Or, the length of her skirt? Hurmm, how about the longest business hour of a pub? Or, how many girlfriends he had in a year? Or, who kissed at the earliest age? Or, who attended all the parties? Or, who stayed latest at his house last night? What about, who has the latest hair colour?

Act like Westerns, so why bother to be Malaysians?

Correct me if I'm wrong. But what I see is what I believe.

her voice echoes in this happy-valley house.."update your blog, girl"..and i was like, "uhuh?u talking to me?" and so i realise, she was, indeed."okay2, i'll do it by dis evening" i said, with shiver..she's not mean, but there's something about her dat u just cant explain..

and so, with the last strength i owned and without a slightest idea wat to write about, here i am, sitting on my messy table and looking at the blank template..i wanna write about my hectic schedule, but it's always been like dat lately..i wanna write about my problem, but then, it wont be solved..i wanna write about my love problem, but i hav none ;)

my hands already wet with sweat..uhuh, dats not a good sign..it means i'm nervous..i dunno wat to say if i didnt update my blog..omg, wat i wanna do??suddenly, i heard footstep..every second it draws nearer..tap, tap, tap..i think, dat her's..it's so familiar..it's sooo her..the aura is there..the sky darkens, the room's getting cold..the wind senses her presence...omg..she's coming this way!!wat i wanna do??where's my knight with the shining armor??i look around, looking for the nearest exit..time's running out, she's on the way...and the room for escape seems impossible, the chances are slim!!

and then, dat voice brings me back to reality.."it's already late evening!" she said with her hands on her waist..looking sooo her..and me, "yup2..i'm doing it now"..i said..she peeped at my screen for a moment and said, "good", and simply walk away..just by then, i can feel myself breathing as usual, suddenly the sun shines tru my window and the absence of my handsome knight seems completely ok..

but the story doesnt end here..i still need to complete my task..when she peeped at my computer, the words on the screens are words that i myself merely understand..gosh!!wat i wanna do..she's gonna check on me again..she's gonna visit my blog till i updated it..she's gonna be aware of my yahoo mssger status from now and then bcos i usually give ppl a hint when i've updated..man, dis is tough..i cant stand the pressure anymore...let's write about something..

tick, tock, tick, tock..suddenly, the clock sounds like it's laughing to me..i've turned crazy by now..omg!!wat i wanna do???

so, who is she??who is this girl who hav soo much power over dis cool, and cun girl??why she's acting like dat??

easy peasy,

she wanted me to update my blog bcos she missed my writing, eventough we are housemates..and we've seen each other's ugly face every morning ;)

and,

i dunno wat to write bcos all knowldge belongs to Allah and when we hav no idea, it means, we hav no idea

i'm shivering bcos it's cold today, it's an aoutomatic thing we do, creates by Allah, the all Knowing

i see the sky darkens bcos it's already 6 pm, He wants us to rest

i can feel her presence bcos we've been housemates for long, hopefully, makin baik ukhuwah ;)

i'm ok when my knight with shining armor didnt appear bcos he's not my mahram

i cant escape tru the nearest exit bcos it's a window, and my room is at 4th floor, and i'll go to hell if i commit suicide

i heard the clock laughing at me bcos the cartoon itself pictures the laughings bears, senyum itu sedekah

i am pressured bcos i've made a promise n i hav to keep it, refer surah as-saaf

and above all, i cant frustrate my dear fren!!if she feels bad, i feel it to

as i said before, she's not mean, but there's something about her dat u just cant explain..

dats y, she's my dear fren... ;)

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

..it's easy for you to say it because you are not at my place..it's easy for you to judge me because i bet, u believe, dats the only way..it's easy for you to leave because all you do is walk away..it's easy for you to climb because you have the spike..it's easy for to blame me because the mirror reflects me..it's easy for you..but wat about me?

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

They said, a once in a lifetime experience is something you must not let go, especially when you are offered to be in a foreign land, learning new stuff. Learning is a huge word itself. Be it formally conducted in school, or informally while walking down the street. According to rules of the world, weekdays are for formal stuff, while weekend is for the opposite. But, according to another chapter in rules of the world, don't let go of a golden opportunity.

While I was busily contemplating my homework and assignment, a dear friend of mine mentioned about a talk at uni, given by Yvonne Ridley. And I was like, 'who's she?' She told me that was the journalist who was captured by Taliban years ago and she reverted to Islam afterwards. Then I remembered I've read something about her in some magazine years back. She's coming all the way from London to deliver a speech during our uni Islamic Awareness Week.

What a great thing, and what a great time! I mean, with all the homework and assignment. The pressure is on, but it takes a while to regain my consciousness. After spending my Saturday morning with a touch of girl-talk thingy and a woozy meeting, my friends and I went to the talk, rombongan-cik-kiah style ;)

In that small lecture room, I saw familiar and unfamiliar faces. But, what to be bothered, we are all brothers and sisters of Islam. Though I hardly remembered her, she's recognizable. Her English look is still obvious though she dressed 100%ly like a Muslim woman. And when she talks, my ears caught the word, my heart captured the quintessence, and my closed eyes dried the tears. The 2 hours session filled with nothing but the truth. About the crisis, the war, the terrorism, the injustice, the cruelty, the biased, the insanity, the hidden agenda. There's nothing extreme about the talk. But if the truth is what people defined as extreme, I can't help but wonder.

As she explained shortly about the crisis of Muslims all over the world, I was trying my best to jot down the details. But I failed miserably, partly because I'm slow but mostly because there are too many to write. If it takes a can opener to open a can, it takes the truth, and a good speaker, to open the eyes of the audience. And Yvonne becomes just that to go straight to the core.

Afghan, Chechnya, Iraq and Kashmir are only a few to name the land of crisis.
Physically, these places are nothing but padang jarak padang terkukur. Buildings demolished, houses knocked down, schools flattened, facilities blown up. No electricity, no water, no food, no medicine,no home. A girl might have no father to feed her. That baby might have no mother to comfort her. This sister might wonder why her brother is bleeding like crazy. And that boy, he sees her sister is gang raped right in front of his bare eyes. The mother, who laboured for 9 hours to deliver each of her children, lost all her 9 boys n girls in one bloody blast.

For me, I dare not to imagine what our brothers and sisters are going through. My country has nothing of such. Their courage is something people should give a stand ovation. But I bet, that's not what they want. They have cried too loud for help from other Muslims, their very own brothers and sisters. While waiting, they don't stop to fight. While waiting, they continue to suffer.

May be in their head they are thinking, 'Our brothers and sisters are coming. Just hold on, perhaps they are already on the way'.

But perhaps, the brothers and sisters can't hear the voices of innocents.

Perhaps the television set is too loud, or is it the concert they are at?