Thursday, June 29, 2006


Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

You know what is wrong with Malaysia?

It's not the things I love so dearly about it (my huge and ever-loving-in-their-own-way family, the abundance of halal food and goods, the peace, the way I never get stared at for being a hijabi). It's the things that are just so prevalently hideous about it.

Honestly. The saying goes that a people are judged by their leaders.

So. What can I say about the country of mine, who call themselves Muslims and regard themselves as part of the Muslim creed, but can squabble over something irreverently idiotic and misconstrued and unimportant, when the people they call 'brothers and sisters' are facing another bleak day of shunned propaganda and sonic booms?

Honestly. The worst profanity would not do this ridiculous scenario any justice.

For months, I have been trying my best to contain my anger. I've been trying to teach myself to be patient and to control my tone and my tongue. It's very difficult. But it is as the Prophet (pbuh) once said, "Patience is from the beginning". Patience is not what you call calm after an abrupt storm. It's refraining from doing something that would displease your Lord and His Apostle, fillah. But astaghfirullah, such incompetence just makes me furious.

I admit, I have been rather sedentary these past few weeks. I can easily blame it on the exam season, I know I can. But I would rather not, because keeping the fire of indignance and the want for justice requires no excuse. It has to be a constant fight.

However, the past few days and its exposure to just how deep into squalor we've let ourselves sink + yesterday's personal screening of The Motorcycle Diaries (which was... inspired) + a rough perusal of the day's headlines, inevitably = CURRENT OUTRAGE.

I was actually in a Nike factory outlet store on Smith Street thisavo (Ozzie-speak for 'this afternoon'). Believe me when I say, the desire to grab a pair of sneakers was far too tempting. It was much cheaper than the shoes at the Adidas outlet a few warehouses away, at only AUD 30.00 a pop, and there were so many more options. However, I found myself feeling disgusted by even being in the store.

I looked at all those racks of shoes and found that I thought of my brothers and sisters in Palestine and Gaza who were dying and starving and being shot point blank, simply for existing on this earth. And I simply couldn't - not for a pair of shoes. I could not keep a pair of shoes and know that the money I paid for them would inevitably be used for the ammunition used to shoot down my brothers and sisters in al-Quds, one after the other.

Regardless of what people want to believe, that is the plain truth.

The money given to certain huge conglomerates (who have even been awarded and treasured by the 'Israeli' government with certificates) go directly to the Zionists armies who behead young children and shoot them as they crouch and hide away (take Allahyarham Muhammad Dhurra, for example), and torture my sisters and club them in the faces with machetes, and shoot down my brothers who stand to pray at the Masjidil Aqsa as if they were hunting game.

Graphic, isn't it? But those are only the famous examples - the ones that are a bit too hard to forget. Yet it is too human a tendency to push such thoughts away in the hidden crevices of our minds. Until even the most enthusiastic of us in speech (note the verb used) make a big deal about not eating at a certain fast food outlet, for the sake of the survival of a few Palestinian children.

It's an unfair comparison. Yet why do we sigh and moan so, over the loss of a source of enjoyment? Why do we not instead, moan and cry alongside Houda Ghalil over the lost of her father and young siblings, who merely went for a cautious picnic at the beach?

Che Guevara became 'Che' because he wanted to create a different future for his people. Sure, he was doomed. Sure, his adopted ideals were a failure in practise. But a quote from one of the movie's cast hit me hard: "He had principles, but he also lived by them."

So, my friends of like mind. It is time. We have to start creating OUR future, because the old geezers squabbling over childish, outgrown insults will not dictate our lives for long. Remember that there is no power greater than that of Allah; our Lord, Creator, and ultimately, the One who Loves us most, and Loves us best. MasyaAllah.

Shall we not even try to repay that Love? Shall we not even try to help those who He also Loves? Shall we not break free from the thoughts, so hedonistic and vile, that try to bind us to our seats and locked into our couches and try to stagnate our minds into utter oblivion? Is it not becoming more and more clear?

It is far time that we, the youth, rise and be counted for. Otherwise, we shall soon have nothing to lose.

Merely a reminder for myself, that I wanted to share with everyone else. Remind me where I go astray, and remind yourselves as well: a fight here is only a quarter of the job done.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 5:38 pm


Monday, June 26, 2006

Keeping promises dey...

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

Now that I know just how awful a promise-keeper I am, and what Islam says about people who don’t keep promises (hypocrites damned by humans and scorned by God – the munafiq), I’d like to keep my promise on a previous post and actually sit down and write that oh-so-important topic: ‘Characteristics of the Perfect Guy’.

Already, I see Syamir’s eyes go wide as he struggles to control his hysterical laughter (too much laughter is also not good for the heart, brother dear), and several other male acquaintances look puzzled/concerned/scared. ‘Eh, dia ni serious ke? Cari nahas apa?’

Hoho. Since Sheera didn’t tag me as per request (harrumph), I’ve just decided to ‘borrow’ the tag anyway. Which is:

"The tagged victim has to come up with 8 different points about his/her perfect lover.>>-Have to mention the gender of his/her perfect lover.>>-Tag eight other victims to join this game and leave a comment on their blog.>>-If you are tagged the second time. There is NO need to do this again.>>-Lastly, most importantly, HAVE FUN DOING IT. "

Heh. I agree wholeheartedly, Doro-kins. ‘Lover’ is too scary a word. I, too, would rather describe the criteria for the ideal life partner (*do note my refrain from using the word ‘my’, which I will explain later*).

Hm. Borrowing a leaf from a several of the Prophet’s (pbuh) sayings, the ideal characteristics (to me) would have to be:

1. Beriman

2. Religious i.e. love God and His Apostle more than anything or anyone else in this world and the next

3. Got faith lah.

Now. I suppose I’d have to explain why I repeated the same criterion three times in a row. And the argument goes as follows:

Someone who loves Allah and the Prophet (pbuh) with all of his heart would undoubtedly follow the rules and advice stated in the Quran and hadith, and heed its warnings , and commit to the sunnah. He would do all this, merely for his love (roja’) and fear (khauf) in Allah. Once he has achieved this stage, the person he chooses to be wife need not worry about how he will treat her or her parents, or whether they would share the same interests or not, because a person who marries for the sake of God (fillah) would undoubtedly:

a) respect his wife and their differences in thought and opinion
b) correct her mistakes, attend to her noticeable flaws and remind her of any discrepancies in behaviour
c) do all that is in his power to please her and her family
d) be gentle and kind to her
e) always be fair to her
f) strive to better himself in order to be worthy of her
g) never allow love for her to impede his better judgment
h) never cheat on her, or allow anything suspect in their relationship
i) want to be a father
j) want to be a provider
k) want to lead her on the straight path with him

I should state that I write all this not based on my personal experience, neither is this an advertisement. I have never married, am actually very scared of it, and probably won’t approach the subject again. I choose to use the word ‘life partner’ (i.e. after marriage), because I don’t believe in boyfriends, or dating before marriage. I see no point in ‘playing the field’ or investing hopes and dreams in a person who is not guaranteed to be yours, and is of no right to receive your affections anyway.

In fact, I stated the characteristics of a person who marries for the sake of God, purely through my own deduction, and through the observation and account of several seniors I know who are married. One senior I know barely knew her husband before they married, and yet she is now the happiest of souls, and highly recommends marriage to all of us young ‘uns. Aiyoh.

When I compare the people I know who married a woman based on her reputation as a person of good heart and a steady mind, to the people who married after months or years of steady dating, I find those in the former category to be the happiest. By observing how couples in each category interacted, I noticed all the above traits. Which has led me to the conclusion that if all marriages and relationships were to be made Islamically, there would be no conflicts of heart, and thus, no feasible plots for Korean dramas (except among the likes of Goong and Full House, both of which deal with ‘contract marriages’ and revolve around for the married ones fall for each other gradually – which is so sweet!).

And the world would be a much quieter, and less heart-breaking place. If only.

And so, I suppose the criteria that I’ve stressed upon today are not specifically mine, i.e. does not necessarily reflect the ideals that my future life-partner should have (Note: I shudder at the thought of marriage, and yet am not averse to it – isn’t that weird?). Rather, they are characteristics as stated in the Quran, and stressed upon by the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), and are the ideal characteristics, once you really think about it. Again, proof that Islam is the solution to all our problems, and is all-encompassing.


Quite honestly, it has struck me that I no longer have any traits that I hold on to as being that of the perfect guy for me. I am not even sure I ever had. Even when I had crushes on people, when I was still immature and thoughtless, I never fell for a specific type. Granted, they always looked/were Chinese, but I suppose we can blame that on genetics (my father is Chinese, and the fact that Mama married him means that I must be twice as likely to be inclined towards those of an Oriental look... naturally...Yutaka Takenouchi and Lee Dong Guk come to mind). But now… I don’t think I have specific wants in a person. Except yes, dia mesti beriman.

When I had read Pride and Prejudice, all those years ago, I was struck by Mr. Bennet’s observation, that his daughter Elizabeth would only be happily married to someone she truly respected, and viewed his opinion as being above that of hers. I thought that that was such a breakthrough, since there are very few guys that I truly look up to (except for my father and my (late) maternal grandfather, Tok Ayah).

Now I’ve realized that if he were of strong faith, I would respect him all the more for it.

And now that I’m almost done ranting, the final three characteristics that we should all strive for:

4. ever in the pursuit for knowledge (because knowledge is half of what builds a person's faith)

5. isn’t all talk and no action i.e. applies his knowledge to his affairs in the real world

6. have the same standards in everything and everyone as I do

Again, I repeat: This is NOT an advertisement, because I do not think I will even consider marriage for many more years. This is just a means of commentary on something that touches a bit of our lives everyday. Is all. InsyaAllah. I accept corrections where and when I am wrong, so feel free to add to this post.

You know you want to. Heheh.

Wallahu’alam bissawab.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 12:16 pm


Saturday, June 24, 2006

When you have more free time lent to you...

Assamualaikum wrh. wbt.

Finals are over. Alhamdulillah. However, unlike how we all expected, the end of our examinations was met with a resounding, heavy-hearted sigh. The paper that we had expected to be the easiest turned out to be a killer. The Business paper was mind-twisting and stupefying. My Chemistry paper was torture on earth in true form. Surprisingly, the best paper thus far would have to be Biology. Huh.

If I don’t do well for my exams, I will be the only one to blame. Have I lived up to my full potential? Had I really, truly, tried my best? Had I taken things too easily, and reckoned that I could do anything my lecturers threw in front of me?


But I must also say, these past few months have been surprising. Surprisingly scary. I have undergone many changes – of mind, of body, of heart. Sister Rayyan called this ‘soul-searching’. I prefer to use a term I’m beginning to see more and more often this year: ‘tarbiyyah’. I like to think that everything I’m going through is a sort of test from Allah, which in turns tells me better what I want, what I need, and leads me to understand that the decisions I make every single moment of every single day will ultimately shape me into the person that I will be, in this life and the next.

I have had to make many choices, all of them (usually) on my own. The issue of food, well, let’s just say, I tend to be a bit overzealous in that department. The issue of ibadah, a more pressing matter, is of current concern to me. On one hand, routine can reduce the effects of ibadah on the heart. On the other, I do not want to seem as if I am making excuses to my Lord on why I choose to miss a particular solat sunat (I don’t know how it is described in English, but it is a prayer that is not compulsory, but is encouraged). The issue of entertainment is also something that I consider everyday. In recent weeks, I’ve discovered the enjoyment of the cultural phenom we call ‘Korean dramas’ (i.e. My Girl). I know that such items of the world are not necessary, and contribute little to my development as a human being, what else a Muslim. But I’ve found that I can’t resist that bit of temptation yet. The same goes for several Japanese songs. The ones that made up the soundtracks of the dramas they used to screen on TV3 during weekend afternoons all those years ago. Those. I like.

This morning, after Subuh, some sisters and I were sitting around in a circle, just discussing about life, in general. It wasn’t even a kuliyyah subuh or anything; more like the sharing of hearts and minds. We got to unloading some issues that troubled us, and our seniors (especially Mama Ninie and Nenek Syahid :)) offered ways to clear our minds, based on their experience and their knowledge. What began as a five-minute chat lasted more than 4 hours, all the way through a hearty breakfast and into Zohor.

I suppose the bustle of exams, and the detachment from my sisters that it created, made me feel lonely and lost for a while. Not having people to rely upon, as I usually did, had given me the loneliness that I, at one point, had craved for. I am an anti-social being, for the most part. I may talk a mile a minute, but when I need time alone, I burrow away in a corner or flutter from person to person. But not meeting my sisters in the musolla, or meeting them in the corridors or on the road, walking, like what I was used to, had given me a taste of what it’s like not having other people there, helping remind you of the consequences of the choices you make. They helped remind me, but never forced or decided for me. In a way, this past month of imtihan has helped make me even more independent.

On the other hand, I’ve felt just how scary being alone really is like. When nobody has the time to talk to each other. When they really, truly, did not have time to spare, catching up with you. What it’s like to be without a support system. It is unnerving.

On the bright side, I’ve developed more of my own mind. And I have made new friends, from old connections that I have overlooked. I see better how other people work, and I how I function with them. I have learnt to walk the streets alone, and make selfish decisions, both good and bad.

Sigh. So. Exams will do that to you.

Wallahu’alam bissawab. InsyaAllah, inspired by many of my friends’ blogs, I may speak on the Characteristics of My Perfect Guy. That should be educational.


P.S:- Speaking on the topic of support systems -- from where I stand, I can see differences between different opinions and schools of thought. Haq vs. batil. And I can see prejudices more clearly. Elizabeth Bennet I am not, but I must say, I can see that different people perceive things differently.

Only I do not know how to overcome them.

this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 10:43 pm


Sunday, June 11, 2006

Brutal honesty? Brutally honest?

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

The funniest thing happened today. As I was reading up for my Business final coming up soon, I switched on the telly, and found a World Cup documentary on the international football legend that was Uruguay. It was fascinating to see an entire nation – or maybe it was the entire Latin American region – get so swept up by a mere sport. It was as if football meant everything to them. An Uruguayan player in the 1930’s even took his life, rather than get the boot (get the boot, get it? J) from one of the two main teams in the national league, Penarol. It had developed into a rich fervour; a doctrine.

I guess, some people will fill in that empty void they feel in their hearts with anything. Even with something as trivial as kicking around a lump of processed cork and rubber.

But that is not the point I was trying to make in the first place. And by the way, don’t get me wrong. I love watching football (note the verb used). It’s one of the few sports whose rules I actually understand, or have a basic understanding of. It’s just that I no longer believe in getting caught in the excitement or extreme emotion most footie fans feel whenever the World Cup, EPL or FA season comes around. Life is too short to be spent on trivial matters. So I am not as obsessive over football as I was four years back. Although I still stand by the fact that it is the most beautiful game in the world. And I’m basing my opinion on the way it is played, rather than the players themselves (although yes, some deserve special mention for being that rare marketing goldmine: being blessed by God with both raw talent and beautiful bone structure).

The point I am trying to make, however, is something that happened as the documentary focused on the future of Uruguayan futbol. It showed footage of what the locals called the ‘baby football league’, which consisted of little boys as young as five, all decked out in little jerseys, playing with rigour and passion. As I watched those little adorable pintos tackle the ball with grace, bless themselves or cried as goals went through (in the case of goalies) and even faked injuries, I found that my eyes were tearing up, and I was getting all choked up.

It caught me by surprise. I mean, could it have possibly been the maternal streak waiting to emerge from within me? Was it because I missed my little cousins, nieces and nephews so much, as I’ve listened to stories of their antics throughout the month (it is the school holidays aka kahwin season in Malaysia)?

And then, I realized that I was crying because, as visibly suppressed as it has been this past month, I am terribly homesick. Watching docus on the World Cup reminded me of how I picked up my respect and love for the game: because my father loved it. That’s the real, honest reason. He’s the reason I even gave watching football a go. He’s the reason I supported Arsenal FC during their winning streak in 2003, and even made him get me a Thierry Henry jersey from Petaling Street. This year’s World Cup doesn’t thrill me as much, because Papa’s not here to watch it with me.

When I wake up in the mornings, I keep thinking that back home, it is two hours earlier than here. That my family is probably going out for breakfast. Oh, how I miss Malaysian food. I can’t even make a good curry without screwing something up. I want to be able to talk to my parents without having to punch a whole bunch of numbers from an IDD card.

I want to balik kampong and get into spats with my cousins, young and old. I want to meet my new nieces. I want to go on outings with my parents, and to be able to tease my brother, and have long chats in the car with Papa as he travels around KL for business meets, and to be able to follow my Mama to her classes at the mosque, and spend time with the aunties from her usrah groups.

It’s embarrassing, how hard I’m crying as I write this.

The truth is, I miss home so very much. And I would give almost anything (material) up for finals to be over, and for me to have a ticket home in my hands.

I have so many stories to tell my parents, and so many images of Melbourne to share with them, and hour-long chats over 1400 kilometres just doesn’t cut it.

I chat with people in Malaysia, and it irritates me when they seem to think that the grass is always greener on the other side. Even with all of my homeland’s flaws, it still is and will always be home. They don’t think that they will miss anything much when they get the chance to study abroad.

Are they ever wrong.

It’s odd. I wasn’t this homesick when I first came here. But now. Now.

I don’t even know why.

It’s not as if things are bad here. Things are improving, actually. I actually understand where and how I fit here. I have routine, somewhat. I can find my way around the city, pretty much. I have friends, both old and many surprisingly new ones. I have found many answers to all of my questions. I have a support system, and a huge one at that. I have picked up hints of the local accent (but it only ever happens when I’m talking to locals whose accent is too thick to manoeuvre around), although I still cannot bring myself to say, ‘no worries, mate’.

And it’s only been four months.

And then, a feeling of overwhelming guilt comes over me. As much as I live here, this world is not where I should lay down my roots. It’s not where I am meant to feel I belong. My real destination – my real homeland – is and shall always ever be the seven heavens above. That should be where my loyalty lies the most. That should be where I long to be. Eternity should be my aim and my ardent hope.

I still love this world far too much, until something as trivial as distance can wire me up so.

So now, I remind myself that the love I feel here is but a fraction of Allah’s love for me. The loyalty and love I feel for my home on this here earth is but a mere glimpse of the love I will feel for my Eternal Home. Alhamdulillah, Allah gave me what I had asked for all those months ago, in my little room in Malaysia – to be given the chance to travel this earth, and no longer feel like I belong in one place, but for me to feel that the earth I tread on is merely a stepping stone for something far greater, far more beautiful, ahead.

In the words of Ernesto Guevara, ever onward! There is no turning back.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 4:32 pm


Saturday, June 10, 2006

I'm yellow.

Assalamualaikum wrh.wbt.

Apparently, in Korean, 'yellow' is a term used very often in reference to acts of cowardice. Hey, you learn something new everyday. I have only discovered the Korean serial, Full House, if you can imagine. Not obsessed. I just enjoy. From what I know, yes, I realize that Korean dramas are something I should not waste time over. Sebagai alasan, however, stories like Full House and Goong can be a way of convincing youngsters that love after marriage is always sweeter. Haha.

Eh. Ini juga arahan Islam. Kebetulan je kot.

But yes. Am now moving on to Business in the Global Economy. I will never be able to look at another international product without thinking of all the effort placed into creating and marketing something as trivial in my life as toothpaste.


This was part of a YM session I had with my honorary KakChik just a few nights back. She’s one of the few people I can truly be brutally honest with. I know. It takes a tremendous amount of patience to be my friend. If you were, you’d deserve some sort of a trophy. I’m a very weird person. I don’t have many close friends. As may be apparent. *shrug*

But coming to the point of brutal honesty. I am that, with Shaheera. She’s a dear soul. I respect her a lot, because I end up learning more about myself when I talk to her. I see myself in a different light.

Alhamdulillah for you, Sheera-Doro-kins. I miss you a lot. As I’m sure you know. I don’t know how I’m going to go through the rest of uni knowing that I can no longer knock on your door and pester you all night long. Because sometimes it feels like you’re the only who can get me. But you’re not here.

Anyway. With her permission, here’s part of our heavily edited YM transcript (kerna aku tidak mahu satu tragedi publisiti seperti Mawi - refer to Utusan Online for details):

airelithiel: assalamualaikum sayang~!
airelithiel: you do realize that i miss you so much that i have to keep pestering you all the time?
Shaheera Djafar: waalaikumussalam
Shaheera Djafar: hahahah
airelithiel: so if you're busy. just shoot.
airelithiel: tell me straight out.
Shaheera Djafar: uh
Shaheera Djafar: okay
Shaheera Djafar: tell u what?
airelithiel: if you're busy.
airelithiel: but i miss you too much to not kacau you.
Shaheera Djafar: im not busy
Shaheera Djafar: im waitin for my laundry in d dryer
airelithiel: when are your exams again?
Shaheera Djafar: next friday
airelithiel: ooooh.
airelithiel: dryer.
airelithiel: such a privilege i have not experienced.
airelithiel: what paper first?
Shaheera Djafar: haha
Shaheera Djafar: um
Shaheera Djafar: chem
Shaheera Djafar: bleargh
airelithiel: i feel your pain, sista.
airelithiel: *FEELING IT*
Shaheera Djafar: hahahhaha
Shaheera Djafar: is ur chem papar tomoro?
airelithiel: not until next next tuesday.
airelithiel: and then next next wednesday
airelithiel: and then next next thrusday.
airelithiel: *thurs. ah, you get me.
Shaheera Djafar: so 3 days straight?
airelithiel: hait. *bow*
airelithiel: 졸려 죽겠어ㅠ.ㅜ
Shaheera Djafar: hahahah
Shaheera Djafar: kesian
airelithiel: i need strength. gimme a hug. gimme.
Shaheera Djafar: maaf gue ngga ade yg gede lagi

* * *
airelithiel: about the zionist boycott. amongst other things.
Shaheera Djafar: ooowh
Shaheera Djafar: ic ic
airelithiel: it's a source of... discussion.
Shaheera Djafar: aah
Shaheera Djafar: ic ic
airelithiel: well. i am not buying stuff that is directly being funded to the people who are killing palestinians. but i cannot absolutely boycott all american products. that would be pointless,
airelithiel: kan?
Shaheera Djafar: hmm
Shaheera Djafar: btul gak
Shaheera Djafar: kang ekonomi tk jln kang
airelithiel: not the economy really... but mainly because you can't go anywhere and not buy an american product.
Shaheera Djafar: hm
Shaheera Djafar: that wld be true as well
airelithiel: but if i know that something is DIRECTLY paying the zionist idiots... for want of a better curse word that i can't use...
airelithiel: with firm proof.
airelithiel: then i have no choice.
airelithiel: i would be a hypocrite otherwise, spouting palestinian support, tapi makan mcd. you know? that's how i feel anyway.
Shaheera Djafar: hmmm
Shaheera Djafar: ic ic
Shaheera Djafar: u haf very strong values yknow
airelithiel: ooooh. insyaAllah.
airelithiel: sticking to the boycott is hard, i know.
airelithiel: especially in msia.
airelithiel: but well. i have to try. we'll see how it goes.
airelithiel: that's what you get when you buy political badges and wear them. they give you guilt.
Shaheera Djafar: hahaha
Shaheera Djafar: true true

* * *
Note: We continued on. About how being different scares me. A lot.

airelithiel: i built people up in my head, only to have to revise them
airelithiel: and place them into smaller fragmentations of my imagination.
airelithiel: and now. in the end.
airelithiel: there isn't much that i can say.
Shaheera Djafar: hmm
Shaheera Djafar: well
Shaheera Djafar: firstly, the whole revising ppl is a lifelong process
Shaheera Djafar: even d ppl u’ve known for a long time tend to surprise u frm time to time
airelithiel: what can i say? maybe i am disappointed. that i could be such a poor judge of character. that i so easily take and lap up at first glance the first image that pops in my head.
airelithiel: hmph.
airelithiel: so. there we go.
airelithiel: but we also have different principles. [Note: referring to MANY people. And me.]
airelithiel: and that relates into a different thing altogether.
airelithiel: you know me. i always want people to see things MY way.
Shaheera Djafar: hmm
Shaheera Djafar: i know [I can picture you saying this with a straight face, Doro]
Shaheera Djafar: but you see
Shaheera Djafar: its normal to judge based on first impressions
Shaheera Djafar: its human
airelithiel: but i build people up. with golden bricks.
airelithiel: and as it turns out. boleh berkarat jugak.
Shaheera Djafar: sumtimes different views n principles can help you see the bigger picture
airelithiel: yes. true.
Shaheera Djafar: it sort of bursts that little bubble of comfort uve build between u n d real world
airelithiel: but i can't live with people who have different principles as i do.
Shaheera Djafar: i know [Note: Haha Doro. You know me too well J]
airelithiel: which is why i am sort of dreading doing the whole boycott thing at home.
airelithiel: because i am afraid that my family won't do the same.
airelithiel: family. i've always shared my family's values, you know?
airelithiel: so. being different. scares me.
Shaheera Djafar: hmm
Shaheera Djafar: i know you can't FORCE ur principles on them
airelithiel: yeah. i know. no forcing.
airelithiel: but being different scares me, doro.
Shaheera Djafar: but I'm pretty sure they won't stop you from doin what YOU think is right
airelithiel: i know.
airelithiel: but living with them, and yet not sharing that one thing with them. really scares the life out of me. you know?
airelithiel: it means that i am becoming more my own person. and in a way, i am not ready for that yet.
Shaheera Djafar: hmmm
Shaheera Djafar: well eventually u will have to grow to be ur own person
Shaheera Djafar: lets just look at it this way
Shaheera Djafar: its better to be discovering urself when ur alone then when ur back home
Shaheera Djafar: at least ull get some sort of clarity witout havin ur family's biasness affect you
Shaheera Djafar: coz u knw as much as they love you
airelithiel: well. guess what.
airelithiel: being alone scares me too.
Shaheera Djafar: aww
Shaheera Djafar: syaz
Shaheera Djafar: it scares me too
Shaheera Djafar: but im not dying because of it
airelithiel: i can see it. i read your blog
Shaheera Djafar: hehehe
Shaheera Djafar: u just take things slowly okay?
airelithiel: i'll try. but i'm not used to being so independent.
airelithiel: i keep thinking that malaysia isn't so far away.
airelithiel: the human mind adapts fast to new situations.
airelithiel: so melbourne is like my home.
airelithiel: but at the same time...
airelithiel: it's really a world's difference.
airelithiel: what scares me most is what happens when i go back for the holidays.
Shaheera Djafar: hmm
Shaheera Djafar: i understand
airelithiel: i am scared that i won't be able to relate to my old life anymore.
airelithiel: where mat sallehs used to fascinate me. they used to be other-worldly.
airelithiel: but they are human now.
Shaheera Djafar: i know
Shaheera Djafar: but im pretty sure once uve settled back in
Shaheera Djafar: ull be fine
airelithiel: chatting with people back home reminds me of all the things i left behind [Note: referring to people in general. Not referring to my family in specifics.]
airelithiel: and how different my mind works now.
airelithiel: they don't seen things my way.
airelithiel: and maybe that disappoints me.
Shaheera Djafar: hmm
Shaheera Djafar: i guess
Shaheera Djafar: but one day ull have to learn to accept that not everything you say has to be followed
Shaheera Djafar: just because ppl dont fully agree with everything you say
Shaheera Djafar: doesnt mean dat u dont fit in
airelithiel: maybe its not so much that what i say is law. because it's not. unfortunately [Note: I was joking.]
airelithiel: but i guess i'm scared of being different.
airelithiel: i mean, how people look at me.
airelithiel: that sort of thing.
Shaheera Djafar: everyone is different
airelithiel: yeah...
airelithiel: i'm trying to understand that.
Shaheera Djafar: hmm
Shaheera Djafar: i think this just means that ur growing up
Shaheera Djafar: when we were younger
Shaheera Djafar: we werent relli mature enuf to think 4 ourselves
Shaheera Djafar: so we sorta relied on the gen pop for values
Shaheera Djafar: but now as we grow older
Shaheera Djafar: n we’re more exposed to things we mould ourselves based on our new views n ideas
airelithiel: growing up. is some scary business, kak chik.
Shaheera Djafar: i know
Shaheera Djafar: im sure i still havent reached dat stage yet
Shaheera Djafar: i mean im gettin slightly more mature
Shaheera Djafar: but i know im still naive
airelithiel: not that naive anymore. but we all are. we still think pretty thoughts. i used to think that was naivete: if you still had hope in the world
airelithiel: now i guess i can see that hope is a much better thing than i gave it credit for.
Shaheera Djafar: hehe
Shaheera Djafar: why yes
Shaheera Djafar: having hope n faith in things doesnt mean ur naive
airelithiel: i see that now.
airelithiel: thank you for being my pillar of strength and being so mature when i need you.
airelithiel: i really appreciate it.
airelithiel: thanks ever so much. mui mui gratze.
Shaheera Djafar: haha
airelithiel: hahaha. my pleasure.
airelithiel: i'm always here when you need sobering up.
Shaheera Djafar: hhe
Shaheera Djafar: thanks
Shaheera Djafar: alrite
Shaheera Djafar: im off to the laundry room!
Shaheera Djafar: sounds very superheroish eh?
Shaheera Djafar: nite!
Shaheera Djafar: love ya!
airelithiel: love you too.
airelithiel: night.
airelithiel: wslm. *HUGE HUG*
Shaheera Djafar: hehe
Shaheera Djafar: *hug back*

Not(e) Again!: As mentioned previously, the account above has been heavily edited. I have learnt in the past week that blogging has to be less of a selfish thing. I have to be more considerate of others, and how they feel when they see what I write, and I have to be careful of how it affects them. Being less selfish is part of being a Muslim.

MasyaAllah. Another lesson well taught by Allah.

Wallahu’alam bissawab.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 7:49 am


Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Deviate from the path, why don't you?

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

It should be noted that the path stated in the title above strictly means: 'The path towards studying for that H1 in Business'.


Brother Lutfi asked for a comment on a recent post of his. Coincidentally, I was about to rant about the topic anyway. A discussion earlier in the day had hit me quite hard, and sent my mind reeling. I'm very impressionable, and the fact that I am basically alone here means that I have to think things very thoroughly. Even innocent chats can give me a headache. Honestly.

So. The comment was so long, it was worthy of a post itself, masyaAllah. Here goes.

In response to the lastest post from il-bloop!:

Assalamualaikum wrh wbt.

As per demand, here are my two cents:

Are we truly an ummah? I fear (in the very layman way of mine) that we have lost the meaning of ummah. Sure, in its loosest context, a member of the ummah is one who follows the Prophet and his teachings, and both fears and loves Allah.

Hang on a sec. The latter part might cut some people from the list. If you get my drift.

But I am sorry to have to say that we are not an ummah. For when we are indeed an ummah, the mindset should be like this: My pain lies in your suffering. My gladness is in that you are glad. My love in my sisters is as if they are a part of me - without them, I could not function. Our ultimate wala' lies with Allah and his Apostle, and then in each other.

Ana enti/a wa enti/a ana. You are of me, and I am of you.

The fact that the argument exists is shameful. We have no right to talk about jemaah or ummah-centric behaviour. As always, we have to go back to the roots. Both would not exist without ukhuwah fillah. Relationships and ties that exist not because of blood, but because of God. Which is better?

And from personal experience, I can say that ukhuwah fillah would not exist without patience. Tolerance. Understanding. And most importantly, love and faith in our Lord. In large quantities. Ukhuwah fillah means Love BECAUSE of God. The way I love my ukhti because God asks me too. The feeling comes without asking.

Yes, jemaah is important. We are asked, in the Quran (8:46) to not fight; to remain united. Jemmah will lead to an ummah, eventually. So why kecoh-kecoh?

I feel that the whole issue probably came up due to some overzealous youngsters who easily switch between both words. They lead to the same thing we are asked to fight for: Ustazziyatul alam. Bukan?

But the main point is: We have to fix that lump of flesh inside us first. We have to fix our hearts. As said by the Prophet (pbuh):"...There is a lump of flesh in the body, the nature of which is that when it is sound, the entire body is sound, and when it is corrupt, the entire body is corrupt. It is the heart."

Bila hati sudah tetap, dan iman sudah kukuh, maka dari situlah titik pembinaan jemaah --> ummah --> ustazziyatul alam.

It is my humble opinion that we should stop concentrating on words, and start working on our ACTIONS.

For now, something for the brain to chew on:

Said the Prophet: "Not one of you will believe until he desires for his brother what he desires for himself."

You beat me to this topic. Takpe lah.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 4:15 pm


Monday, June 05, 2006

Maybe I should speak.


Whatever happened in the wonderful REB on Nicholson, will be left to Allah. Tawakkal tu 'al-Allah. He knows best, He knows all, and only He will decide.

But for me to say that I have done my best would be a lie.

I feel such tremendous guilt.

I live a relatively comfortable life, here in Melbourne. I eat good (when I'm not cooking). I am very healthy. I have a roof over my head. I have clothes to wear, even enough to layer myself with. I have technology at my fingertips.

But I am so ungrateful.

'Alhamdulillah' does not suffice, if I only utter the words, but do not stop to reflect and mean them. 'Barakallah' is not a proper doa until I truly do mean it upon the person I utter it to.

For until I love in my brothers and sisters, what I love in myself, I am not complete. For I would not be of faith.

I have drifted away and forgotten the meaning of Islam. Selamat. Peace. Safety.

I have been petty and miserly and started questioning and looking for holes in the system. I have started to look for ways out. I have one foot in the matter and one foot looking for a hideaway.

What good am I as a person if I find myself reluctant to not buy things that are not crucial? To not buy things that fuel the bullets that kill my brothers and sisters?

They suffer in silence, because no one listens.

And I have heard. But I do not speak.

I do not try my best to help them in the only way I can.

I count eggs until they crack open.

I count raindrops until they evaporate into misshapen rainbows.

I lose the plot and the meaning altogether.

Tears do not stain my eyes but for a while. They do not peel my heart open and let me suffer.

Reading about their pain brings my selfish thoughts to mind.

Oh Allah, forgive me and my selfishness.
Please place me on the right path; the straight path.
Do not place me with those who err knowingly or unknowingly.
Please remind me always, and do not let me forget.
Please give me the strength and the will to fight.
Please remind me of why I am here.
Do not let me stray from the fight.
Fix my heart before You set it free.
I am helpless before You.

this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 4:30 pm