Friday, August 19, 2011


When I was still studying.. Was. Yes, it has been awhile. When I was still studying, I used to take lots of bus rides. To move about in Shah Alam or even go to KL. And then there were the 5 or sometimes 6 hour bus rides back home to here. I usually take the night ones because I despise having to endure those long hours just sitting or sleeping uncomfortably during the day. So I take the night ones, usually at 11.30pm and make sure that I tire myself during the day so that when I really do get into the bus that night, I would eventually be able to force myself to fall asleep. It works that way.

But when it didn't, like on rare situations that I had to take the day rides because the night ones were sold out, or I had a long nap during the day and was just not sleepy enough, or if the driver was just driving too slow that I feared we'd not make it for Subuh, or if he turned on some very annoying dangdut songs loudly that even if I slept, they would bother me in my dreams, I would not be able to doze off. I'd sit there wide awake, bored to death, and look at the road. And when I got tired, I just practically stared anywhere.

So it was that one afternoon, failing to sleep, or find entertainment on the phone because the battery was dying, I looked up straight and saw the digital clock that the buses would have at the front. I usually don't trust those clocks because for some reason they're never really accurate. And I like my clocks to be very accurate. So anyway, because it was starting to get dark outside, and the bus driver didn't bother to turn on those small reading lights, the only thing that I could see in that darkness, was the clock. The red numbers were shining brightly as if asking everyone to pay attention to it. Only to it. And so I did. I stared at it looking at the red lines changing shapes into different numbers. The dots in the middle constantly blinking. And at that moment, I realized. Time.

Time moves. Just like that. The dots blinking 6o times and the number changes. And changes and changes and changes. It doesn't stop. Well, unless the clock's broken or the batteries expire. But time, it still goes on leaving us. The second that I took to type this 'A' will never return to me. It just passed and it'll not come back. I could type as many 'A's as I want, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. There. But it won't be the same with that 'A' up there. That 'A' was in the past and these A's in the future will be in the future.

I just turned 23 a week ago. 23. Twenty-three. I'm still trying to swallow this. Yes, I'm one of those people who think of birthdays as one of the hugest things in the world. I regard it so largely that I don't think other people quite get it. How could a date that signifies you have turned a year older be that significant to me? I don't think I quite get it either. But it just does. Even seeing the word 'August' brings me a certain jolt of excitement. Birthdays. I love them. And I want every birthday for as long as I live to be the best day of my life. I want to get wishes. I want to get hugs and kisses. And I want people to know that 23 years ago, an amazing woman gave birth to me. Why? Because it's mine. The day, that whole day, from 12am to 11.59pm, is my day. Do I not get to feel that way? Is it too much? Am I being selfish? Childish, in fact? Well, so be it. Because I want this selfish and childish side of me to stay so that I could cherish the fact that I'm given another year to live and to grow and to learn, and be a better person. InsyaAllah.

I love birthdays. And everyone's birthday should be special. This year, mine was. With the absence of several important people in my life. But nevertheless, it was special. Simply because Allah still gave me the opportunity to experience it. That itself is the best gift ever. Will there be more? We'll never know, will we? But as the red lines change shapes again, I just hope being a year older and please Ya Allah, wiser and more mature, I would appreciate all the people around me and be a better servant to You. Because there's nothing worse than waking up in the morning with the feeling of pure regret for letting a short yet important second pass by so lightly, so hastily.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Dear Someone,

It would be 10pm over there. Maybe you're still doing your solat tarawih. Maybe you're having your supper. Maybe you're reading the Quran. Maybe you're making do'a for ummah and.. me. And us.

And for that, it's okay that you're not here.


Thursday, August 4, 2011

Teaching Update #11

  1. It has been two months!
  2. Not even going to pretend. Teaching during fasting is a bit tiring.
  3. So I load them with practices and let them do most of the talking hehe.
  4. It's interesting to see how different groups of students from different courses relate the same task I give, to their own background knowledge.
  5. The engineers would relate on cars, electrical things and technology that even I don't even know about.
  6. And the master chefs would talk about various types of foods and recipes.
  7. I learn a lot from them.
  8. The class of females is obedient and listen to instructions well.
  9. The class of males, besides being naughty boys that they are, is entertaining yet focused when given tasks.
  10. The class of both males and females is usually the noisiest but also the most interactive.
  11. Remember the teachers at school or the lecturers who could keep a stern face even when the students make a hilarious joke?
  12. Well, I fail to be one. Sometimes I laugh more than the students.
  13. I love the azan at the campus's masjid.
  14. I love my students.
  15. I love teaching.