YES, IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME…

… since I updated this blog, yeah!

Well, truth be told, I’ve gotten so busy I can barely update my other blog. But alas, joy is for those who weep, for ’tis the coming of the King shall soothe thine soul!

Oh, and I have become a teacher – a profession I never expected to get indulged in.

No worries, peeps. I will be getting more and MOAR updates for you in the meantime, so don’t worry if this site has gotten creepy and webby, if you catch my drift.

So long and ’til we meet again!

New short story added!

Yes, it’s so true. Read in the Light the Lit page: The Mayor and The Bum.

And so, Winter Falls…

It is time. I’m going home.

In advance, I want to say my thanks to:

- my parents for growing me up and nurturing me to be a good (in fact – very good) boy.

- my siblings for supporting me in times of need (even though all you do were babbling and making fun of me, but seriously, it really helped, guys! )

- my cousin for assisting me whenever I need help in my documentation processes (and of course you helped me getting my cerpen into Dewan Kosmik! )

- my STTQ friends (batch of 2006-2009) for staying by my side, through light and dark, but we stayed together until the very end of 2009. Yes, we did it altogether, leaving none of us behind! Congratulations, guys.

- my sifu, Zaki, Kak Najwa, and Hisyam, who, deliberately, taught me the art of writing.

- my friends from Adabuna, especially Ibnu Reza and Lailati Mahat, whom I learned many lessons of life from. It was (and is) great to have you guys as comrades.

- my junior housemates: Fakhruddin, Anas, Zuhdi, Fikri, Hamdan, Zul Faiz and Sa’id Hawwa for giving me cheerful moments and sweet memories whenever I’m home.

- and those who read this blog.

Look forward for more posts of mine. I’ll be a nearly-full time blogger when I’m home!

See ya!

And Finally…

It’s been a while since I stepped into the dashboard of this blog. Yes, it’s been a while. Exam, second exam, a bunch of programmes and many more. I have to admit that all these works and no rests have made me very, yes, very tired.

But that’s what happens when your popularity meter goes up.

Ah heck. I never wanted to be this popular. Or so I think. All the eyes get focused on you. Just a little mischief, and people will say something, a thousand times even worse, about it. Therefore, with note, I’m now lowering my profile, so I can do all the mischief I ever think of. Yes. No, just kidding.

There is a saying that goes: absence makes heart grow fonder. Yes, the absence of the presence of my dear family makes me miss them more. But knowing that I have to part with something dear to me will also make me miss it.

Yes, it’s been three years. The memory of arriving at the Cairo International Airport would always linger in my brain. Now, the time to revisit that place is nearing. I never know if it would be the last, but this is it. Three years are all you’ve got, said my Mom, three years ago. And yes, I kept that promise. Three years are what it all takes, alhamdulillah.

I’m going home. Finally.

Despite all the elated feelings and joyousness that I’m soon leaving for home sweet home, there is this distant sadness at the edge of my heart that looms nearer every day I pass through. I still could not figure out what it is. The time will come, I’m sure of it, that I will finally know what sadness it is.

This would be my last Ramadan in Egypt. And if this were my last, I hope I’m not way too late to wish all you readers, if there’s any: Ramadan Kareem, and Happy Fasting.

And if this were our last, let it be the most glorious. Let us pray, that someday, we will be the ones that “meet their God with a clean heart”. (Ash-Shuara, Chapter #26, Verse #89)

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The Hijab

(dedicated to the women of my life and all dear friends of mine)

“And say to the believing women (mukminaat) that they should lower their gaze and guard their modesty; that they should not display their beauty and ornaments except (must ordinarily) appear thereof; that they should draw their veils over their bosoms and not display their beauty except to those whom they can¹; and that they should not strike their feet in order to draw attention to their hidden ornaments…”

- An-Nuur (Light) : 31

Many of us have mistaken the term of ‘hijab’. What actually is hijab? The answer lies in the above verse. Actually, to be precise, the term ‘hijab’ is in two verses; the other one in the previous aayat (verse 30), which focuses on the different gender. In verse 31, though, it is concentrated fully on women.

Okay, I think it’s enough for reference (you can check it online if you still want some more). Time for a bit amplification.

Definition

Hijab is a piece of clothing that covers the head. It is an emblem or insignia that the wearer is a muslimah, no matter how short or how long she wears – it is still called a hijab. Is that right?

Wrong.

Do not take this subject lightly. If you answer what hijab is like the previous paragraph, you definitely made two mistakes. Yes, two!

The [first] mistake: “Hijab is a piece of clothing…”

Hijab is NOT a piece of clothing. Hijab refers to all the subjects that Allah has mentioned in the above verse of surah An-Nuur. Hijab is from Arabic, which means close (not meaning ‘near’) or secure. So the correct answer should be– hijab to a woman is lowering her gaze, guard her modesty, not displaying her beauty and ornaments except what is ordinarily appear thereof, draw her veils over her chest, not displaying her beauty publicly, and not striking her feet in order to draw attention of her hidden ornaments (which are worn at the feet). Phew. Got it?

The [second] one: “It is an emblem or insignia that the wearer is a muslimah…”

The hijab (or particularly called ‘veil’) is not just worn to show off that the wearer is a muslimah. Two reasons why I say this:

1. Women from other religions also wear it, e.g: nun or cleric. See for yourself if I’m wrong.
2. The raison d’être of wearing the veil is, like said, to secure the woman herself. It is not simply worn to show off her religion (like I said in a. ), but to protect her dignity.

From these, we can make the first conclusion: the veil is one part of hijab, but hijab is not just veil. Okay, maybe because it is publicly used, you can use ‘hijab’ instead of ‘veil’. No big deal there.

Issues

These are frequent issues and problems that I find can become interesting. The following questions are answered through logic and common sense.

A: Why bother wearing the veil? Doesn’t it feel hot?

B: Why bother following the traffic rules? Aren’t you in a hurry?

A: Hey, it’s a rule. I don’t want to get ticketed (summon ticket).

B: Well yeah, the veil is also a rule. I don’t want to get thrown into the Fire.

A: Why does a woman wear a veil?

B: To protect her dignity and for her own security.

A: Though there are numerous rape cases get veiled women involved?

B: There are also numerous robbery cases get secured banks involved.

A: So what’s the point of wearing a veil if you don’t get the guarantee of not getting sexually harassed?

B: Veil is not a protection against any harassment. It’s the first step of not getting any harassment, followed by several steps afterwards. If you wear a veil, but you don’t wear the appropriate attire for a true muslimah, it’s not impossible to get involved in such cases. Not just that, the attitude of oneself should be of concern too, if she doesn’t want to get caught up.

Conclusion

The hijab (veil) is a piece of clothing that covers the head to the chest of a woman, to protect her self-respect and dignity. Please do not ask me where I get this definition – I already wrote in the foreword above. It is an order of Allah, and whatever He commands must be obeyed for it is only for the good of humanity. It is because of His love and blessings that we, humans, who make sins all the time, get to get His forgiveness when we seek.

Remember, no matter how big we think our sins are, His forgiveness is even larger beyond measure. Let’s return to Islam – the true and only way of life.

Before my leave, I’d like to include something for you readers to take into account. The Veil, by Dawud Wharnsby Ali.

They say, ‘Oh, poor girl, you’re so beautiful you know

It’s a shame that you cover up your beauty so.’

She just smiles and graciously responds reassuringly,

‘This beauty that I have is just one simple part of me.

This body that I have, no stranger has the right to see.

These long clothes, this shawl I wear, ensure my modesty.

Faith is more essential than fashion, wouldn’t you agree?’

This hijab,

This mark of piety,

Is an act of faith, a symbol,

For all the world to see.

A simple cloth, to protect her dignity.

So lift the veil from your heart to see the heart of purity.

They tell her, ‘Girl, don’t you know this is the West and you are free?

You don’t need to be oppressed, ashamed of your femininity.’

She just shakes her head and she speaks so assuredly,

‘See the bill-boards and the magazines that line the check-out isles,

with their phony painted faces and their air-brushed smiles?

Well their sheer clothes and low cut gowns they are really not for me.

You call it freedom, I call it anarchy.’

This hijab,

This mark of piety,

Is an act of faith, a symbol,

For all the world to see.

A simple cloth, to protect her dignity.

So lift the veil from your heart to see the heart of purity.

Lift the veil from your heart and seek the heart of purity.

_______

¹ Their husbands, their fathers, their husbands’ fathers, their sons, their husbands’ sons, their brothers or their brothers’ sons, or their sisters’ sons, or their women, or the slaves whom their right hands possess, or male servants free of physical needs, or small children who have no sense of the shame of sex.

The Parting of the Ways

“Whenever you start things, you’ll eventually finish it off. No matter how brief, no matter how long. It will eventually end.”

-Anonymous.

That’s how things happen in this world. A new leaf grows after another dies. But growing a new one is not as easy as one could merely think. And it is never going to be the exact copy of the last.

One mistake that almost everyone makes: believing that he is going to do the thing forever. But whenever the thing comes to an end, he begins to falter, his spirit waning, his life-force diminishing, as he once expected that the thing was going to be his thing perpetually.

People change.

And the change is either one of two: to make others happier with the consequences, or not. But sometimes, it does both. One will not be as happy as the other with the outcome. But that is the only way, the only choice to do. There is no second option, so someone has to be forfeited, though it might hurt.

I begin to think that there may be a truth behind the words a certain someone muttered to me a not-so-long time ago: you cannot take care of everyone’s heart, as there will be a situation where you have no choice but to hurt him, just for the sake of himself and everyone else.

But that may seem cruel.

It always seems cruel to the naked eyes. But, when you think again, there would always be goodness and decency, right beneath what’s obvious. We just can’t see it because the time has not come for us.

Like I said above. No matter how brief it needs to shelve, no matter how long it requires to delve: it will surely come when the clock hits twelve.

Thou Art Tagged!

Was tagged by Ms. Tasneem Sayorwan. Tagging people is not my thing, so I am not going to tag anyone. If you want to do these, I won’t be going to stop you.
Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions:

1. What is your name : Mior Khabir Zikri bin Mior Ahmad Zaini.
2. A four letter words : Momo – Aang the Airbender’s pet (I hate this character actually, but what else could I say?)
3. A boy’s name : Muhammad (peace be upon him)
4. A girl’s name : Maryam (Prophet Isa’s mother)
5. An occupation : Mailer-daemon (does this sound occupation enough?)
6. A color : Magenta (as in cMyk)
7. Something you’ll wear : Mobile-suit GUNDAM (hah, wish something like that exist!)
8. Something found in school: Medals
9. A food : Maggie Mee (ah, the memory!)
10. Something found in the bathroom : Mirror
11. A place : Mekah (Mecca in English)
12. A reason for being late : Making people go nuts
13. Something you’d shout : “Moron, DO NOT DO THAT!”
14. A movie title : Mission: Impossible (never watched it though)
15. A musical group : Mirwana
16. A street name : Masjid India Street.
17. A type of car : Mitsubishi. No, Mazda is more likely!
18. The title of a song : Mama Papa – by Mirwana

Very Time-Consuming

The motive? You guess.

A Loss

And then, you mortals shall meet thine God!

-Anonymous

One

I remember. It was 20th of August 2005. The night was silent. Unusually silent. The kids were off for holiday, leaving us, the seniors, on our own: focusing our study in several tuition classes at school.

I was studying for the approaching SPM that night, but at the edge of my heart, there was an uneasiness. A weird uneasiness. Just right at the edge.

But I did not care much.

Later that night, coldness crawled down my spine. Not of the weather, nor of the dropping temperature, for the night was just like the same other nights. But it was of a news that I heard from my fellow friends, of something that I never imagined could happen.

Two of my friends were involved in a crash.

“Just outside the school’s perimeter,” said one of my friends, whose name did not want to be mentioned. “It was a hit-and-run.”

The rider was Illias, and the one behind (what’s the word for pembonceng, eh?) was Hazwan, both 18. It was reported that Hazwan had much more bleeding than Illias.

But the latter had much more inner damage, which, I assumed, was even more fatal.

I could not sleep that night. I prayed that both of them would survive the accident. The exam was just round the corner. Just a few months to go.
But then, I realized. We are mere creations of Allah. He is willing to take our lives anytime He wants. It could be any seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, or years from now. The end of our lives is already written.

But we never know when.

I heard a voice from afar. It was dark, and I realized I fell asleep without noticing. It took a few seconds for me to recognize the voice. It was my roommate.

“Mior, wake up Mior,” he whispered. The room was lit with dim light. “Wake up. Illias…is gone.”

I trusted my ears: they never lie. My roommate said it clearly, even though he was whispering. I could hear it. And I weakly turned to check the lower-bunk of my double-decker, where Illias used to sleep, just in case that the roommate of mine was playing a trick to wake me up. But it was no trick. Illias was not there.

It was 3.31 am. He really was gone.

I never did realize that tears slowly streamed down my cheek, down my chin. I braved myself to go out of the room to see a group of friends who used to sit and discuss at the bench. They, too, were silenced.

Heaviness fell down in my heart. It had been almost five years. We, a group of eighteens (at that time), were like a family. A very close family. We laughed and cried together.

But then I braced myself. I said: we human can only plan. He is the One who decides, for He is our Creator. He is our Master. He is our Lord. It is because of Him that we can live, and to Him shall we return.

I stayed awake until Subuh. I do not want to show off, but it was the truth – I cried hard that morning.

The Imam (Syeikh Muhaimin, a teacher from Egypt in my school), recited in the Subuh prayer:

27 يَا أَيَّتُهَا النَّفْسُ الْمُطْمَئِنَّةُ
ارْجِعِي إِلَىٰ رَبِّكِ رَاضِيَةً مَّرْضِيَّةً 28
29 فَادْخُلِي فِي عِبَادِي
30 وَادْخُلِي جَنَّتِي

27 (It will be said to the pious believers of Islamic Monotheism): “O (you) the one in (complete) rest and satisfaction! 
 28 “Come back to your Lord well-pleased (yourself) and well-pleasing (unto Him)! 
 29 “Enter you then among My (honoured) slaves, 
 30 “And enter My Paradise!”

I never felt such a loss before at that point in my life. I felt the urge to let out all the tears. It was like a volcano, only waiting to erupt. But I did not weep long. I must not. I knew that we, who still live, as long as we can breathe, must carry on the task of fighting for what we believe in.

Yes. For Islam.
 

To be continued.