Friday, September 28, 2012

. Clueless .

. I would really want to write something nice here . 

. I want a company . Badly .

. End .

p/s : Nah , rawatan diri :D

Saturday, September 22, 2012

#2 Food for the soul : Pure Love .

copy and pasted from : . muslim speakers .

This is a true story about a man named Rashed. He tells his story as follows…

I was not more than thirty years old when my wife gave birth to my first child. I still remember that night.
I had stayed out all night long with my friends, as was my habit. It was a night filled with useless talk, and worse, with backbiting, gossiping, and making fun of people. I was mostly the one who made people laugh; I would mock others and my friends would laugh and laugh. I remember on that night that I’d made them laugh a lot. I had an amazing ability to imitate others – I could change the sound of my voice until I sounded exactly like the person I was mocking. No one was safe from my biting mockery, even my friends; some people started avoiding me just to be safe from my tongue. I remember on that night, I had made fun of a blind man who I’d seen begging in the market. What was worse, I had put my foot out in front him – he tripped and fell, and started turning his head around, not knowing what to say.
I went back to my house, late as usual, and I found my wife waiting for me. She was in a terrible state, and said in a quivering voice, “Rashed… where were you?”
“Where would I be, on Mars?” I said sarcastically, “With my friends of course.”
She was visibly exhausted, and holding back tears, she said, “Rashed, I’m so tired. It seems the baby is going to come soon.” A silent tear fell on her cheek.
I felt that I had neglected my wife. I should have taken care of her and not stayed out so much all those nights… especially since she was in her ninth month. I quickly took her to the hospital; she went into the delivery room, and suffered through long hours of pain.
I waited patiently for her to give birth… but her delivery was difficult, and I waited a long time until I got tired. So I went home and left my phone number with the hospital so they could call with the good news. An hour later, they called me to congratulate me on the birth of Salem. I went to the hospital immediately. As soon as they saw me, they asked me to go see the doctor who had overlooked my wife’s delivery.
“What doctor?” I cried out, “I just want to see my son Salem!”
“First go see the doctor,” they said.
I went to the doctor, and she started talking to me about trials, and about being satisfied with Allah’s decree. Then she said, “Your son has a serious deformity in his eyes, and it seems that he has no vision.” I lowered my head while I fought back tears… I remembered that blind man begging in the market who I’d tripped and made others laugh at.
Subhan Allah, you get what you give! I stayed brooding quietly for a while… I didn’t know what to say. Then I remembered by wife and son. I thanked the doctor for her kindness, and went to go see my wife. My wife wasn’t sad. She believed in the decree of Allah… she was content… How often had she advised me to stop mocking people! “Don’t backbite people,” she always used to repeat… We left the hospital, and Salem came with us.
In reality, I didn’t pay much attention to him. I pretended that he wasn’t in the house with us. When he started crying loudly, I’d escape to the living room to sleep there. My wife took good care of him, and loved him a lot. As for myself, I didn’t hate him, but I couldn’t love him either.
Salem grew. He started to crawl, and had a strange way of crawling. When he was almost one year old, he started trying to walk, and we discovered that he was crippled. I felt like he was an even greater burden on me. After him, my wife gave birth to Umar and Khaled. The years passed, and Salem grew, and his brothers grew. I never liked to sit at home, I was always out with my friends… in reality, I was like a plaything at their disposal [entertaining them whenever they wanted].
My wife never gave up on my reform. She always made du’aa for my guidance. She never got angry with my reckless behavior, but she would get really sad if she saw me neglecting Salem and paying attention to the rest of his brothers. Salem grew, and my worries grew with him. I didn’t mind when my wife asked to enroll him in a special school for the handicapped.
I didn’t really feel the passing of the years. My days were all the same. Work and sleep and food and staying out with friends. One Friday, I woke up at 11 am. This was early for me. I was invited to a gathering, so I got dressed and perfumed, and was about to go out. I passed by our living room, and was startled by the sight of Salem – he was sobbing! This was the first time I had noticed Salem crying since he was a baby. Ten years had passed, and I hadn’t paid attention to him. I tried to ignore him now, but I couldn’t take it… I heard him calling out to his mother while I was in the room. I turned towards him, and went closer. “Salem! Why are you crying?” I asked.
When he heard my voice, he stopped crying. Then when he realized how close I was, he started feeling around him with his small hands. What was wrong with him? I discovered that he was trying to move away from me! It was as if he was saying, “Now, you’ve decided to notice me? Where have you been for the last ten years?” I followed him… he had gone into his room. At first, he refused to tell me why he’d been crying. I tried to be gentle with him… Salem started to tell me why he’d been crying, while I listened and trembled.
Do you know what the reason was?! His brother Umar, the one who used to take him to the masjid, was late. And because it was Jumu’ah prayer, Salem was afraid he wouldn’t find a place in the first row. He called out to Umar… and he called out to his mother… but nobody answered, so he cried. I sat there looking at the tears flowing from his blind eyes. I couldn’t bear the rest of his words. I put my hand over his mouth and said, “Is this why you were crying, Salem!”
“Yes,” he said.
I forgot about my friends, I forgot about the gathering, and I said, “Don’t be sad, Salem. Do you know who’s going to take you to the masjid today?”
“Umar, of course,” he said, “… but he’s always late.”
“No,” I said, “I’m going to take you.”
Salem was shocked… he couldn’t believe it. He thought I was mocking him. His tears came and he started crying. I wiped his tears with my hand and then took hold of his hand. I wanted to take him to the masjid by car. He refused and said, “The masjid is near… I want to walk there.” Yes, by Allah, he said this to me.
I couldn’t remember when the last time I had entered the masjid was, but it was the first time I felt fear and regret for what I’d neglected in the long years that had passed. The masjid was filled with worshippers, but I still found a place for Salem in the first row. We listened to the Jumu’ah khutbah together, and he prayed next to me. But really, I was the one praying next to him.
After the prayer, Salem asked me for a musHaf. I was surprised! How was he going to read when he was blind? I almost ignored his request, but I decided to humor him out of fear of hurting his feelings. I passed him a musHaf. He asked me to open the musHaf to Surat al-Kahf. I started flipping through the pages and looking through the index until I found it. He took the musHaf from me, put it in front of him, and started reading the Surah… with his eyes closed… ya Allah! He had the whole Surah memorized.
I was ashamed of myself. I picked up a musHaf… I felt my limbs tremble… I read and I read. I asked Allah to forgive me and to guide me. I couldn’t take it… I started crying like a child. There were still some people in the masjid praying sunnah… I was embarrassed by their presence, so I tried to hold my tears. My crying turned into whimpering and long, sobbing breaths. The only thing I felt was a small hand reaching out to my face, and then wiping the tears away. It was Salem! I pulled him to my chest… I looked at him. I said to myself… you’re not the blind one, but I am, for having drifted after immoral people who were pulling me to hellfire. We went back home. My wife was extremely worried about Salem, but her worry turned into tears [of joy] when she found out I had prayed Jumu’ah with Salem.
From that day on, I never missed the congregational prayer in the masjid. I left my bad friends… and I made righteous friends among people I met at the masjid. I tasted the sweetness of iman with them. I learned things from them that distracted me from this world. I never missed out on gatherings of remembrance [halaqas], or on the witr prayer. I recited the entire Qur’an, several times, in one month. I moistened my tongue with the remembrance of Allah, that He might forgive my backbiting and mocking of the people. I felt closer to my family. The looks of fear and pity that had occupied my wife’s eyes disappeared. A smile now never parted from the face of my son Salem. Anyone who saw him would have felt that he owned the world and everything in it. I praised and thanked Allah a lot for His blessings.
One day, my righteous friends decided to go to a far away location for da’wah. I hesitated about going. I prayed istikharah, and consulted with my wife. I thought she would refuse… but the opposite happened! She was extremely happy, and even encouraged me… because in the past, she had seen me traveling without consulting her, for the purpose of sin and evil. I went to Salem, and told him I would be traveling. With tears, he wrapped me up in his small arms…
I was away from home for three and a half months. In that period, whenever I got a chance, I called my wife and talked to my children. I missed them so much… and oh, how I missed Salem! I wanted to hear his voice… he was the only one who hadn’t talked to me since I’d traveled. He was either at school or at the masjid whenever I called them.
Whenever I would tell my wife how much I missed him, she would laugh happily, joyfully, except for the last time I called her. I didn’t hear her expected laugh. Her voice changed. I said to her, “Give my salam to Salem,” and she said, “Insha’Allah,” and was quiet.

Source : Google

At last, I went back home. I knocked on the door. I hoped that it was Salem who would open up for me, but was surprised to find my son Khaled, who was not more than four years old. I picked him up in my arms while he squealed, “Baba! Baba!” I don’t know why my heart tensed when I entered the house.
I sought refuge in Allah from the accursed shaytan… I approached my wife… her face was different. As if she was pretending to be happy. I inspected her closely then said, “What’s wrong with you?” “Nothing,” she said. Suddenly, I remembered Salem. “Where’s Salem?” I asked. She lowered her head. She didn’t answer. Hot tears fell on her cheeks. “Salem! Where’s Salem?” I cried out.
At that moment, I only heard the sound of my son Khaled talking in his own way, saying, “Baba… Thalem went to pawadise… with Allah…”
My wife couldn’t take it. She broke down crying. She almost fell to the floor, and left the room. Later, I found out that Salem had contracted a fever two weeks before I’d returned, so my wife took him to the hospital… the fever got more and more severe, and didn’t leave him… until his soul left his body…
And if this earth closes in on you in spite of its vastness, and your soul closes is on you because of what it’s carrying… call out, “Oh Allah!” If solutions run out, and paths are constricted, and ropes are cut off, and your hopes are no more… call out, “Oh Allah.” Allah wished to guide Salem’s father on the hands of Salem, before Salem’s death. How merciful is Allah!

Pengemis kasih sayang Ya Rabb,

Friday, September 21, 2012

#1 Food for the soul : The Bruised Hands .

Resource : MukaBuku

One young academically excellent person went to apply for a managerial position in a big company.

He passed the first interview, the director did the last interview, made the last decision.

The director discovered from the CV that the youth's academic achievements were excellent all the way, from the secondary school until the postgraduate research, never had a year when he did not score.

The director asked, "Did you obtain any scholarships in school?" the youth answered "none".

The director asked, " Was it your father who paid for your school fees?" The youth answered, "My father passed away when I was one year old, it was my mother who paid for my school fees.

The director asked, " Where did your mother work?" The youth answered, "My mother worked as clothes cleaner. The director requested the youth to show his hands. The youth showed a pair of hands that were smooth and perfect.

The director asked, " Have you ever helped your mother wash the clothes before?" The youth answered, "Never, my mother always wanted me to study and read more books. Furthermore, my mother can wash clothes faster than me.

The director said, "I have a request. When you go back today, go and clean your mother's hands, and then see me tomorrow morning.

The youth felt that his chance of landing the job was high. When he went back, he happily requested his mother to let him clean her hands. His mother felt strange, happy but with mixed feelings, she showed her hands to the kid.

The youth cleaned his mother's hands slowly. His tear fell as he did that. It was the first time he noticed that his mother's hands were so wrinkled, and there were so many bruises in her hands. Some bruises were so painful that his mother shivered when they were cleaned with water.

This was the first time the youth realized that it was this pair of hands that washed the clothes everyday to enable him to pay the school fee. The bruises in the mother's hands were the price that the mother had to pay for his graduation, academic excellence and his future.

After finishing the cleaning of his mother hands, the youth quietly washed all the remaining clothes for his mother.

That night, mother and son talked for a very long time.

Next morning, the youth went to the director's office.

The Director noticed the tears in the youth's eyes, asked: "Can you tell me what have you done and learned yesterday in your house?"

The youth answered," I cleaned my mother's hand, and also finished cleaning all the remaining clothes'

The Director asked,"please tell me your feelings."

The youth said, Number 1, I know now what is appreciation. Without my mother, there would not the successful me today. Number 2, by working together and helping my mother, only I now realize how difficult and tough it is to get something done. Number 3, I have come to appreciate the importance and value of family relationship.

The director said, "This is what I am looking for to be my manager. I want to recruit a person who can appreciate the help of others, a person who knows the sufferings of others to get things done, and a person who would not put money as his only goal in life. You are hired.

Later on, this young person worked very hard, and received the respect of his subordinates. Every employee worked diligently and as a team. The company's performance improved tremendously.

Source : MukaBuku

A child, who has been protected and habitually given whatever he wanted, would develop "entitlement mentality" and would always put himself first. He would be ignorant of his parent's efforts. When he starts work, he assumes that every person must listen to him, and when he becomes a manager, he would never know the sufferings of his employees and would always blame others. For this kind of people, who may be good academically, may be successful for a while, but eventually would not feel sense of achievement. He will grumble and be full of hatred and fight for more. If we are this kind of protective parents, are we really showing love or are we destroying the kid instead?

You can let your kid live in a big house, eat a good meal, learn piano, watch a big screen TV. But when you are cutting grass, please let them experience it. After a meal, let them wash their plates and bowls together with their brothers and sisters. It is not because you do not have money to hire a maid, but it is because you want to love them in a right way. You want them to understand, no matter how rich their parents are, one day their hair will grow gray, same as the mother of that young person. The most important thing is your kid learns how to appreciate the effort and experience the difficulty and learns the ability to work with others to get things done. 

Saya bukan penulis tapi peng-kongsi,

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

. Y we're being treated like a high-schooler ? .

And yeah , have you ever wondered why ?
Hurm , well this is what Puan Nooraini told us .
'Awak ni anak anak emas ni , you hold 1 million of the Malaysians property and money , and we , the teachers are responsible to care for you , to ensure you pass with flying colours and able to be a doctor and contribute back to the nation' <-- ayat yang telah diubah , maaflah nak rakam sebijiksebijik for sure lah tak dapat . Tak cukup Dhobit hehe :D

. Anak EMAS ? The Gold-Children ? HAHA teringat the Grimm Brothers tu :) .
. Amanah 1 juta .
Source : Google

Apa apa pun , yang paling penting ,
. Khalifah di dunia .
. Abid kepada-Nya .
. jadilah muslim yang memberi manfaat kepada orang lain .

P / S : Just so you know , IB never let us breath without homeworks at all hehee .
Malay : Kehilangan Nama Presentation
English : The Lottery theme presentation
Maths : Vectors Handbook exercise
Biology : Handouts ?
Chemistry : Test on Friday (21st Sept)
ITGS : IA Website , Assignment internet banking
TOK : Essay (15th Oct) , Repeat presentation
EE : Abstract , Acknowledgement .
PAI : Murtad presentation
Yeah , lots of presentation . Lots of discussion . Plenty of works . Short of time .

Pekerja tetap homeworks and assignments ,

Monday, September 17, 2012

. CitaCita .

. This is DREAM .
. Please be patient and wait for me .
. The earliest I can meet you is in 1 year time .

Till then , in sha Allah :')

Sincerely ,

. Kawan atau Sahabat ? .

Lihat tajuk ? Read by lip .
Kawan ? Atau . Sahabat ?
Kawan kat manamana ada , bilabila pun ada .
Tapi sahabat , kita tak panggil semua orang sahabat kan , hanya orang tertentu dan layak je dapat pegang title sahabat tu .

Okay dah lah shut up , bosan , cliche gilaa cerita pasal kawan and sahabat ni kan .
Sesiapa google pun dapat tahu dah kan hehe .

Takde ape lah entri ni .
Nak baca silakan , tanak baca pun silakan .
Mungkin lah mungkin , fb dah takde , twitter dah terbatas , sini lah tempat meng-'usha' harihari .
Kalau tak , fb tu boleh lah update status lebatlebat , biar semua orang like . Pastuh suka .
Tak pun , upload lah gambar 'kemhokemho' pastuh tunggu orang like . Pastuh bila orang comment cakap sweet lah cantik lah kembang sampai telinga .
Kat twitter , cerita lah setiap minit tu macam kau sorang happy kat dunia ni , kau sorang sengsara kat dunia ni . (blablablablabla <--- membebel)

Kuat nyaa merepek . Panjang tahap dewa mukaddimah .
Yelah lama dah tak dapat keyboard tak dapat fb tak dapat twitter nak main comment semua . Nah amik blog .

Ini je nak cerita sebenar nyaa .
. Kisah SATU . Ye , haritu Diyana dah balik , flight naik Egypt Air hari Jumaat and Sabtu petang sampai 8 Sept 2012 . Mesir ke Malaysia . And yang best nyaa , semua orang tanak bagitahu and nak rahsia kan dari aku . Tapi , after kobek kobek talipon Asmida tu jumpa gambar Viber ticket nak balik Malaysia . Rupa nya Asmida dah tahu dulu , and lebih lagi , Zhafir pun lagi tahu awal . Dang ! RobekHATIsatu :\

. Kisah DUA . Okay fine , dah rahsia . Takpelah , aku redha . Alasan diorang , ehem nak bagi surprise kat aku . Baiklah alasan diterima . Pastuh , kat twitter , Diyana tanya aku cuti ke tak , ajak jemput dia kat KLIA . Okay , nak lagi good news ke bad news entah lah , tarikh 8 Sept tu ada Bengkel Penulisan pulak kat PD . Terima kasih kawankawan bagitahu last minute , nama tak boleh cancel dah , bukan lah tak boleh as in HARAM nak cancel nama tu , tapi dah register dengan orang DBP and akan menyusahkan pelbagai pihak . Maka sebelum aku menyusahkan dan menyakitkan hati ramai manusia , baiklah aku korbankan diri , orang hantar karya 3 , aku hantar 1 je , tak rela , itupun baru tulis sajak masa pagi Jumaat sebelum bertolak pergi PD tu Jumaat tengahari . Next , dah siap pesan kat Asmida awalawal , Diyana sampai Malaysia nanti suruh dia call aku terus , and dah pesan kat Zhafir jugak , nanti korang snap gambar ngan Diyana mms kat aku . Hati dah rela and suka bila sampai PD tu , sebab orang kat situ hebathebat and baiknya masyaAllah :D
Mengajar dan memberi tunjuk ajar tanpa dipinta dan ditanya . Bila program malam Sabtu tu dah habis , tengok phone . Hurm , kosong je , missed call dari Asmida ke Diyana both takde , mms Zhafir pun takde . Hurm , kenapa takde ? Diorang lupa aku ke ? Ke sengaja ? Then text Asmida . Sobsobsob :'( . Lepas text letak phone jejauh , charging , then terus masuk selimut ready nak tidur .  (Hati dah merajuk gilaa) . Tetibe phone bunyi . Diyana call . Tanak angkat , memang sengaja . Diyana text , reply sekali , reply kali kedua . Tidur . RobekHATIdua :\

. Kisah TIGA . Bangun pagi esok , ade 3 text messages , 2 mms Zhafir 1 sms . Ade gambar diorang . Okay , senyum :D . Nasib baik ingat lah jugak , walaupun lewat . Thankyou . Tapi , Diyana tak call langsung dah after that . Fine , call Asmida , bukan aku . Baca kat twitter , diorang kata nak keluar samasama . Okay pergilah , aku sentiasa sibuk kat sini kan . RobekHATItiga :\

Maka aku BerSAJAK and BerJK kat twitter (itu label diorang) . Attention Seeker - I seek for attention <--- (Orang macam ni loner, label apekah ini? stereotype)

Tetibe hari Rabu , Zhafir kata nak datang rumah , dengan kawan yang tak berNAMA . Hahaa . Okay masa tu bukan nak senyum je tapi nak sengih terus rasa tunjuk semua gigi buruk hitam lubanglubang gusi semua lah hohoho . Ehem takyah nak bajet secreto sangat lah , aku tahu dah sapa :D Yeay ! Tapi masa tu tak confirm lagi lah kawan tak berNAMA tu sapa , so tanak cerita kat Asmida , sebab nanti kalau salah aku malu sengsorang , yelah diorang ni kan suka sangat nak kata surprise lah secret lah . Aku yang makan hati :\

Jeng Jeng Jeng !
Hari Jumaat . Malam . Pukul 9 lebih baru sampai -..-'
Hai tetamutetamu yang dinanti . Aku tak tahu ini planned apa sebenar nyaa , kalau aku , aku rasa ini macam memujuk rasa sedih and merajuk aku lah kan , sebab seronok dapat jumpa semula , tapi mungkin untuk korang , ehem mesti lah tak habis habis nak kata surprise lagi lah kan kat aku . Hohohoho .
Sobsobsob terharuuu . sangat . sangat . sangat terharu :')
Segala kisahkisah dan robekan hati dah pulih dan sihat seperti sedia kala . Teehee :D
Yelah , sebab instead aku pergi jumpa kau and tunggu kau kat arrival gate , kau datang rumah aku .
And walaupun kau sibuk kan player bola , kau datang jugak jauhjauh rumah aku . 1 jam dalam train haha .

Ye . Maaf . Sebab SAJAK mengada , JK tahpape . 
Minda 9 tahun kot bukan 19 tahun .

Nah . Ini . Dia .
Cake tanda penghargaan dan mintak maaf atas kelakuan minda kelas ketiga ini .
Mungkin tak memadai , tapi , TERIMA KASIH :D

Yea , this is just a simple meeting of us . Ini cake birthday untuk semua . Okay ? Birthday sesiapa pun kita tak dapat celebrate kan . Birthday aku korang dua takde , birthday diyana , aku zhafir pun tak ade , birthday zhafir , kitorang dua takde . Fair and square . Ini cake untuk kita semua okay , sila share Kihkihkih :D

. Happy Birthday everyone .  BFF  ♥ . 
Lepas makan cake yang manis tahap dewa ni , hantar Zhafir balik rumah , kebetulan dah dekat Shah Alam , bawak lah cik Diyana ni , perantau yang pulang ke kampung halaman , pergi I-city tu . Personally , tempat tu tak rasa extraordinary pape pun , bawak Diyana tengok lampu liplapliplap , then we snapped some photos together and went home . A very long night . Very tiring , yet very HAPPY indeed .

♥ In sha Allah .

♥ Dear friends , Alhamdulillah , thank you , for everything :') 
Just so you know , long ago I love to have surprises , but now , it seems like I hate secrets and surprises the most . Eheh ;)

P/S : Nanti kita pergi jumpa merekameraka yang lain pulaa ye . Whoaa tak sabar nyaa ! Heeeee :D

Penulis JK dan SAJAK terhebat ,

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

. Different .

. IN . sig . ni . fi . cant .

. 5 syllable .
. Me ain't any better in grammar .
. Leave .