Thursday, September 28, 2006

Indignance *Warning: Do not read if easily provoked*

Do I scare you because I carry the Quran around now?

Do I scare you because I no longer listen/watch the same things you do?

Do I scare you because I seem to have bigger plans in my head?

Do I scare you because I have changed?

Worry not. I am a work in progress. And I am only still human.
I'm just trying to tweak and make myself better; to live up to my potential -

To be all that I truly can.
Or rather, to be who I was made to be.

"Nothing can be better than what has been."
-As-Syahid Hassan al-Banna-

I have no regrets. Neither should you.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 12:57 pm


Sharing = caring, no?

Give a thought.

Give a prayer.

Make your niyyah pure and true.

We are responsible for the suffering they feel.

Yes, we; yes, you and me.

All of us to blame.

It is time for us to rise and warn: Qum! Fa anzir! (74:2)

O you who covers himself (with a garment)

Arise and warn!

And your Lord glorify

And your clothing purify

And uncleanliness* avoid

And do not confer favour to acquire more**

But for your Lord, be patient.

[Al-Muddatthir, 74:1-7]

*Specifically, idols (of the physical and pychological kind) and generally, bad conduct and morals.

** Alternate meaning = "Do not consider any favour you have conferred to be great" i.e. don't budget cukup baik/cukup hebat.

Fii amanillah.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 12:34 pm


Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Tarbiyyah of the heart.

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

We had a fantastic day at the Tulip Festival, alhamdulillah. Us fresh(wo)men were in the Tarrago, snug and comfy, while our seniors roughened it out in the Charades, but altogether, we had real fun. We stood in awe of Allah's wonderful creations - at the multitude of colours, and the clear-blue sky, and the easy breeze, at the luscious greenery as we travelled the winding roads, and the adorable children that ran about the blooming flowers.

"I don't want to be a grown-up like the grown-ups I have seen,
'Cause the grown-ups I have seen don't seem to have much fun."
-The Blue Sky is Blue by Dawud Wharnsby-

We prayed in the grass amidst the lovely smells and brilliant colours of Spring, and we had a delicious iftar.

So maybe I want to grow up.

Still. Something about this day, I have to share. It's a sort of story, with a sort of moral, insyaAllah. We'll see how I progress in prose; the interview with Terri Irwin on Channel Nine still has me in a sort of emotional griphold i.e. makes me miss my parents, especially my father, so badly.

There were tulips in the thousands, I don't doubt, at the Festival. It was gorgeous, and after taking pictures for several hours in the warm sun, most of us decided to buy some flowers for home. I got a few bouquets of tulips from the picking farm, and got a pot of lovely pink hyacinths, already in radiant bloom, and smelling so much like my favourite scents.

But just before we made our way back home, a strong gust of wind ruffled a few hijabs, and fell my pot of hyacinths onto the ground.

I was disappointed.

I have had many great outings in the past few months, only to be marred by little incidents that sort of dull the memories a bit. I had counted on taking good care of the hyacinths, making sure they grew well and healthy. The promised three blooms were already out, but the fall broke a steady bloom of tiny pink flowers, and made a pretty little mess of wet sand.

I was sad.

My mind immediately thought of the very recent and still painful loss of my mobile phone. I used to pride myself on not being all that reliant on modern technology, but Allah has proven me wrong in that respect. I actually miss my old mobile and the noise it makes, and the pictures it stored, and texts from my family that I saved up for later pangs of homesickness. I was thinking of having it replaced by a new Sony Ericsson soon, and I always thought to myself about how lacking it was in features compared to other phones.

I guess I needed a lesson.

But after my hyacinths got damaged, I suddenly remembered my phone, and I guess I wasn't really thinking straight. I felt an immediate frown on my face, and my mind went on a tangent:

Why me?

And then I repeated the istighfar to myself, many times over.
It is not in the character of a true believer to question what has been fated by Allah.

'The pen has been lifted; the pages have dried.'

And then I started to reason out the reasons why God has tried my in such a trivial, yet emotional way. With all the due limitations of my reasoning, of course. And I thought I sort of got it. I was still sad, but I could accept it, somewhat.

But then when we got back from the mosque, and I started unpacking all the tulip blooms, I set up the hyacinths in the most convenient place I could. And after I patted the sand and gave it a good watering, I was taken aback.

In the middle of the pot, still green but perched and ready to emerge, was another immature bloom of flowers.

Praise be to Allah, Lord of the Worlds; the Gracious, the Most Kind. (1:2-3)

Like I once said to my friend, "The way Allah proves us wrong can be so cute sometimes."

Those are words I won't ever take back.

Here's to tarbiyyah of the heart.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 9:18 pm


Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Ramadhan musings.

Sometimes. It feels as if I will never fit in.

It feels as if I will never know my place here. The way I didn’t know where I stood when I was younger. The way I always stood on the boundaries and fluttered and flittered – here to there to here. I never seemed to have peers, and when I did, sometimes I alienated them. The other times I didn’t, we became fast friends. But this alternate sequence of events is rare a find. Usually the former happens.

There are many things about me that people don’t like. I used to not want to change. After accepting that I had to change – fi sabilillah, insyaAllah – all those months ago, I did, and I will be the first to admit that I was the better for it. That was before I came here. To the land a friend called ‘the Country of Festivities’. Cheers, mate.

Here, I have no family to openly and heatedly argue and love. I have nobody who will love me unconditionally – at least, not the way my parents did. They endlessly worked on my flaws, as parents are wont to do, and yet loved me. They could not help but love me, because God stated as thus.

But here. Here you have to be independent. And even if you have a network of close people who love you fillah, there are bound to be clashes of thought and experience and opinion. Here comes in this concept that has been one of the most difficult for me to build within myself: FORGIVENESS.

There are two words in Malay that sum it together: ‘Berlapang dada’. As a sister once said, it means ‘Carrying forgiveness within you, wherever you go.’

Now, isn’t that a wonderful concept?

But I will be the first to tell you that it is wonderfully difficult, too.

A few years back, when I was still in secondary school, I sometimes felt like I was meant to wander the lands like a stranger – a ghuraba. I later on learnt that that was true, but that I was not supposed to wander the lands alone, and that as a person willing to struggle, I could not live alone.

The English saying goes, ‘No man is an island.’

And I suppose, that is where my main struggle lies, right now.

Sometimes it feels like my big test lies in ridding my soul and mind of all the jahiliyyah that used to encumber it and slow it down – the small things such as whiling away my time with things that do not amount to anything, backbiting, holding grudges, and speaking unnecessarily of unnecessary things (it’s a term that has had a lot of bad press back in my home country, I know, but it’s also the term used in the Quran, and used generally by figures such as the late Sayyid Qutb and al-Maududi).

At moments or hours like this, though, after being engulfed by the spirits of people who share my thoughts and aim – sometimes it feels like I’m struggling for air.

I was such a sucker for non-conformity and individuality before, that I am afraid that I will lose it all one day. It’s an inner fear that I would not be me anymore.

But I always seem to forget, everytime I give myself the space to feed on this small fear, that Allah does not want us to be exactly the same. If the Lord wanted, He could have made us all into clones of each other. But instead, he created amongst us differences, and made us all unique individuals, so that when placed together by Love for Him, we would be able to add our special somethings to the mix and come up with brilliance and unrivalled strength.

As Zakkiratul Qalbun said to me, when we were lost on a mount leading up to Squeaky Beach, that memorable morning in Wilson’s Prom, “It’s wonderful what tarbiyyah of the heart does to you.” When I confided in her about my worries, she also told me to not give up – to hang in there, because although there will be difficulties, they will be sweet and memorable, somehow, because each smarting of the eye or the heart will help build my character in the end, and I would not but look back in amusement at it all.

Now, slightly more than a week after that fateful Sunday morning, I think I sort of get the gist of it.

Ramadhan has definitely pulled the ties that bind us much closer together. For some reason, we are able to live in a sort of peace with each other. As someone who tends to live in the outskirts of things, I still like my space, and I still tend to observe from my own invisible fortress of solitude. But people respect that, and they don’t try to ambush it down. I like that.

I just don’t like being odd and strange and distant from anyone else. Although sometimes I’m just plain asking for it.

So this is my battlefield for now: Learning to live with other people. Some people find it easy, but it’s still an endless struggle for me. I’ve seen what it does to people, though, and even though I have qualms about what I have to do on my part, I want that in the end. I want that sort of love, and I want that sort of friendship – and I won’t be devastated if I don’t, but I’ll definitely be disappointed in myself if I don’t try. I know some people already love me all the same, but they are already a part of the network. I still have to try and fit in. I feel like I have to earn people’s acceptance of me; that I don’t have to change who I am, but I want them to accept who I am.

I reckon, with all the limitations of my human mind and heart, that this is part of my re-education – my tarbiyyah.

“It’s wonderful what tarbiyyah of the heart does to you.”

Moral of the story: Tarbiyyah means that certain changes have to be made. Our struggle calls for sacrifice. Which great struggle doesn't? But these sacrifices will be purely for our Lord, insyaAllah. And these changes will make us better people, insyaAllah. :)

May the madrasah of Ramadhan build us all into insani who will withstand the rest of the year’s duration. Until we meet with Ramadhan again, insyaAllah.

Sigh. It’s only just started, and already I’m talking as if it’s about to end. But time does fly so, doesn’t it?


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 9:21 pm


Sunday, September 24, 2006

Going round full circle.

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

So. Here it has come. Here it is again.

Ramadhan al-Mubarak.

To me, this particular month has very special meaning connotated to it.

Coming across Ramadhan again, means that I have somewhat come full circle.

Last Ramadhan was the first that I had truly ever experienced - where the feeling, the emotion, the surrender and the desperation was there. The Ramadhans before that simply faded from memory.

Last Ramadhan was plentiful in its wonders, and sweet in its delights.

Last Ramadhan, my faith felt renewed and reborn. Like my heart had been scrubbed hard and my slate wiped clean.

Last Syawal, I longed for Ramadhan again. I dreaded the passing of Ramadhan. I wanted it to last.

How many of us take note of how much easier it is to be nicer, more considerate, more gentle, less inhabiting and more tolerant during Ramadhan?

How many of us pause before doing something we know is wrong, because it just occured to us that the urge is no longer from the Devil a.k.a. syaitan, but from our own nafs?

And how many of us make the right decision?

And how many of us remember that that is where the greatest struggle is: That honourable sturggle within?


The seven doors of Paradise are now open wide, awaiting our supplications, our du'as, our good deeds, and our sincerest of intentions.

Dare we put it all to waste?

I am not smart or eloquent enough to elaborate on the meaning of the saum (i.e. the fast). But I can, however, remind myself to not let this Ramadhan pass by without my taking full advantage of it and the opportunities it gives us all.

The opportunities for greatness in the matters that matter, insyaAllah :)

Do forgive my wrongs, where I have erred. Do place it in your heart to let go of my inconsistencies, harsh words typed out in thoughtless/emotional haste, and where it seems, at times, like the attack is too direct and too precise for you to handle. Forgive me time and again. If you do not see/feel the consequences of your generousity now, you'll see it one day soon, insyaAllah.


(And for myself as well.)

For happiness, now or later.
For clarity, now or soon.
For hidayah, when the time is right (hopefully soon).
For patience, whenever it's needed.
For calm, whenever trouble brews in our hearts.
For strength, to be called upon whenever/wherever.
For intelligence, to choose the path that's right.
For ukhuwah, the pull that draws us together.
For Love, divine and true.
For truth, to prevail over injustice.
For Islam, the mercy for the worlds.


Have a wonderful Ramadhan, people. Make it the best one ever~!


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 3:59 pm


Saturday, September 23, 2006

Ramadhan sudah mari....!

Open your doors wide people, 'cause here. it. comes!!!!

Ahlan, ya Ramadhan. May we receive the blessings entrusted within you, and may our souls be born anew with Love. Faith. Trust.

Love from and for Allah.

Faith from and in Allah.

Trust from and in Allah.


This spring break, let's all take a break from the world, and remember the true reality of life:

That we are ALL going to DIE.

"We only die once. Make it something meaningful."
-Ukhti Fateha-
(sorry, I must credit with real name, and besides, I dunno enough Arabic to give EVERYONE nicknames)



this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 7:01 pm


Wednesday, September 20, 2006

About the heart.

The heart.


Holds too much for the insan to ignore.



Something for the heart. If it helps.

Because I know that there are -

um -

opinions on this.


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 2:55 pm


Monday, September 18, 2006

Physical soreness.

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

Got back from Wilsons Promontary last night. Am still sore all over. Am glad to report that I did everything from pray under the stars and the ocean, to getting lost on one of them mounts, to slipping down onto some very hard river rocks, to making model ducks out of bread, to poking at (supposedly) live jellyfish [I do hope Dorokins doesn't get mad about that bit], to singing in the van, to losing my mobile phone in a timespan of ten minutes.

Will write in more detail soon, insyaAllah. Though come to think of it, that pretty much sums it all up.

But am in too much physical stress to write down what I've already mapped in my brain, masyaAllah. So instead, I'll just do the regular cut-pasting thing.


About Whom We Should Speak Out
By Selma Cook
Managing Editor –

How noble it is to speak out! How much courage it takes to stand up for what is right and make your voice heard! Indeed, how powerful is the spoken word that echoes from a sincere heart! And how many issues there are today that need the free, outspoken, and eloquent voice of wisdom to right the wrongs and give sound advice.

Our world! Take a look around and what do you see? If people are not picking up the pieces of their lives after war, economic oppression, or all the problems and disasters resulting from the affects of global warming, they are seeking to dull the pain of life by giving in to compulsions, addictions, and the realm of the superficial.

The world over, wars are being fought and lost (who wins in a war?) Families are torn apart and children (the usual victims) are left to cope with the dysfunction of the unit that should have nurtured them to maturity. Women are violated, abused, and disrespected despite attempts to liberate themselves. Mankind seeks peace of mind, calmness of heart, and freedom of the spirit but is swallowed up in the fear that characterizes our time.

We all live under the threat of nuclear warfare, economic monopolization, violence, murder……..who feels safe? Who feels at peace? What has the new world order, the ‘savior’ of our time, done to eradicate poverty, protect children, honor women, distribute wealth fairly, eradicate corruption, stop war, or protect the planet?

Where are the voices of the strong and independent spirits of the world to step up and take a stand against the pollution that is threatening life on this planet? Where are the cries of dismay and resounding fists marking the words spoken against rampant violence, invasion, bloodshed, and genocide? Who will stand up and demand that drug abuse and all that leads to it, ceases altogether? Who will stand and insist that there be no more racism, that children are protected, that domestic violence stops, that the rights of the elderly are honored, and, and, and….

Yet in the midst of all this mess there are voices that seek to degrade the very person who taught mankind how to avoid all the evils that threaten to destroy us. Isn’t it more appropriate to lash out at greedy manipulating politicians or the nations that stubbornly refuse to stop emitting greenhouse gases into the atmosphere, or the immoral behavior that leads to domestic violence, abuse, molestation, addiction, suicide and all the other horrors of our time?

The final Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him), Muhammad, is the one who taught by example, how to serve all mankind, not to hold grudges, to wish for your brother what you wish for yourself, to struggle with your time, wealth, and blood, if necessary, to release people from tyranny and oppression, to treat women with kindness and dignity, to eradicate racism and slavery, to care for children and give them their rights, to seek knowledge and develop the individual and the nation, to not cut down trees or spoil nature, and so much more.

Since all that Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) called for is good and beneficial to mankind and life on this planet, what then could be the reason behind someone denouncing him or casting him in an unfavorable light?

Regardless, the call of Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) is the same as the call of all the prophets from the beginning of time: Adam, Moses, Noah, Abraham, David, Solomon, Jesus and all the others (peace and blessings be upon them all), and this message belongs to the Creator and He, the Almighty will grant it success.

If the slander against Muhammad (peace be upon him) is due to ignorance, then knowledge can always be gained, but if this slander is due to hatred and malice then surely, the One who protected Jesus and all the other prophets, will protect His final prophet, Muhammad. The truth is not necessarily on the tongues of men, but it dwells in the hearts of the pious.

** Selma Cook is Managing Editor of the Youth Section and Volunteer Youth Resource Network at She has written a number of books including: Buried Treasure (An Islamic novel for teenagers) and The Light of Submission (Islamic Poetry). She has also edited and revised many Islamic books. She can be contacted at


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 1:33 pm


Wednesday, September 13, 2006

We are family.

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

For someone who has procrastinated till the last second (my apologies in advance, Trevor - am trying my best to not inconvenience you - should you even come across this), I am not feeling the heat. Without effort, there is no point in tawakkal.

I know that.

But I cannot help it if I have faith.

As a sort of sideshow, here. Take a look.

This is my family, if you're counting the Hokkien version of the surname. In Mandarin it's Soo. In Cantonese it's So.

Which means I most likely share a common ancestor (not counting the Prophet Adam a.s.) with the Lord Mayor of Melbourne.

John So is my bro~! Or rather, my uncle, some hundred times removed.

Isn't it wonderful, how similar we all are as a human race? That Allah has made us all so diverse, and yet able to find links between one another?

So why spread the hate? And why question something moral? Moral and right and true?



this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 2:51 pm


Sunday, September 10, 2006

I see. Now I see.

Assalamualaikum wrh. Wbt.

I was sitting in the middle of the room. Almost at the border between them and us.

Some of them were familiar faces from months past. The others were familiar faces from daily encounters.

And all of us sat in that room, them in the front, and us in the back, as it was always meant to be. Equal and together but separated with only subtle boundaries in between. All of us with our specified space.

Our lives were overlapping over each other, and it showed.

Old friends laughing with the new. Jostling shoulders, jesting smiles and inside jokes intermingled in the evening air.

I remembered a time when it was all a bit more confusing, and a bit more wrong. Where we felt as though it was alright, but it wasn’t. I look before me, at old friends, and I cannot begrudge them the change they are going through – the new light I see emblazoned in their eyes. The clearer faces; the easy smiles, although they may not be directed at me. I am glad. Because I am sharing in their light from afar.

On my left and on my right are new acquaintances; fast friends. New bonds made and tested every single day. We share the same aims and the same laughter, and we move as one, even when apart. We are individuals with one aim. We celebrate each others’ uniqueness and learn from each other.

And time ticked away, on and ever onwards. But for some reason – truly only God knows why – it did not strangle us or threaten us into haste. Time became our friend for that while.

I remember a moment when I was frustrated at them, and how apart they seemed from me.

Now, I recognize the silently passing emotions between them. I see the ties that bind them, much as ours did us together.

I cannot begrudge them the light. Not anymore.

With God’s will, I step a bit further ahead from where I was, into that waiting known.

By time,

Indeed, mankind is in loss,

Except for those who have believed and done the righteous deeds and advised each other to truth and advised each other to patience.

[Al-Asr (Time) : 1-3]


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 10:02 pm


Friday, September 08, 2006

Random bits.

When your past seems to catch up to you, and you're trying to leave it:


When you are hurt inside, and the desire to hurt back is just as strong:


When you seek forgiveness for stray thoughts and anger:


When the light seems a bit too far - you know you've done something wrong:


Istighfar = Asking for Allah's forgiveness.

And His Mercy prevails over His Wrath.

So dare we brew potent anger in our hearts, when even our Maker, who Owns everything omnipotently, does not hold grudges towards those He Loves?

Na'uzubillahi min zalik.

"Penuhi jiwa ini dengan satu rindu/Rindu untuk mendapatkan redhaMu"

-OPick's Cukup Bagiku-


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 11:02 pm



"In the name of God, the Most Merciful, the Most Kind,

O Allah, please bless my Sya'aban, and bring me to Ramadhan.

Prolong my life so that I may taste another of this sweetest of months.

That I may feel light-hearted, and yet be able to weep as I supplicate to You.

Over and again, in the Light of all months.

In the blessed month of Ramadhan.

May this Ramadhan - my Ramadhan - be something I treasure, and may it be filled with deeds that I shall bring with me

Ever and onwards -

Into that Eternity soon.

Amin ya Rabbal 'al-Amin."

this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 10:35 pm


Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Admission: I faltered.

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

I was listening to Once's (though it really came from OPick) Dealova. The music is haunting. There is something about Indo-Rock. It haunts you. It makes you ache inside for something you're not entirely sure of.

Ah. English is beginning to suck, because it leaves such little space for telling something as it is but in the vaguest way possible. My bad for not taking BMelayu seriously when I had the chance. Sigh.

Anyway. I faltered. I remembered the past, just as I thought I had said 'farewell' to it so long ago.

And I did a Google search. For a person's name.

Does it kill me that they are able to live so freely with such abandon, and without any worries, other than the superficial ones?


Does it make me incredibly mean if I am glad that they have not changed?

Musawwiratul Jadid would say in that warning tone of hers, "Awin... Don't go there, okay?"

Do I want them to change (ah, such a big word)?


It does make me sad that I no longer see things their way. And it does make me sad that they do not understand. Not yet, anyway. Islam has no room for pessimism.

For someone who cherished being weird and different for so long - yes. It makes me wince inside to see how they are, still. How much I used to be like them. How much I have changed. Or not.

Sorry, Musawwiratul Jadid. I compare. 'Tis what I do.

And does it make me feel awful, remembering that name?

Why, yes.

That name. Put me through very painful moments. All self-inflicted, of course. But still. Those moments are reminscent of the natural, gut-tearing feeling you get in the pit of your large intestine when you hear that Indon-Rock vibe that makes it so infamous.

So the avid music-worshipper (tsk, tsk) will understand just how awful I felt in the past. Amplified a few hundred times. Right.

Arveen would verbally slaughter me if she knew. Which she will, insyaAllah.

Which reminds me, Kirdain, before Arveen leaves, I want to tuntut hutang ko pada aku. Right? Go.

Genetics, here I come. InsyaAllah.

And btw, Lubna. I know I scare people. Why, though? :)


this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 9:45 pm


Flowers from the Quran for the hiding Spring.

She had thoughts of remaining in the sun, basking in its glorious warmth. The day was cold and had brought little comfort to her. Save for the few moments spent in prayer and prostration. Those little moments of peace seemed so few, yet weighed so heavily on her mind.

She looked out the apartment window and watched the rays of light making patterns in the clouds, amidst a backdrop of clear blue sky. Moving, fluttering, changing. Her breath caught in her throat. The wonders she had been allowed to stand witness to. They amazed her. No words could say how much.

The house seemed empty. It felt empty. Maybe because there was little laughter, scarce warmth in it. The chilly winds from the Pacific did nothing to ease the cold. Hot chai lattes in the mornings were alright, once in a while. Little escapes from the cubbyhole helped her keep her sanity. But how much? How often could she run away, when she could not leave?

Her insights turned inwards. She silently prayed to Allah for help – to ease the burden in her heart. She felt so troubled by so many things, and she only had five times a day to let go of them and seek refuge in her faith. Tears were her constant companion, and they could not always be happy. She needed the sun and brightened days to remind her of Allah’s love, although she knew, it was always there, and all around. “By the glorious morning light, and by the night when it is still; your Lord has not forsaken you, nor is He displeased…” So she needed to bask in the sun’s glorious warmth.

But after she was done with Asar, the clouds had pulled closely together, as if in jemaah. The winds blew at a less leisurely speed. Then the heavens pulled apart, and the sky began to cry.

this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 1:16 am


Another spring day in September.

Assalamualaikum all.

Now, let me be a little scary with this question:

How have YOU been?

See? Told you it was scary. Because I wasn't being completely and utterly selfish, for one.

Where have my thoughts for my brothers and sisters in Palestine/Iraq/Afghan/Kosova/India/Guantanamo/Abu Ghraib/Sudan gone to? Have they left with the spring breeze?

MasyaAllah, we had a few wonderful days of wonderful weather. It was remarkable. I now truly understand what Spring the Season is -- what it means to have a spot of sun after months of dry, harsh, cold weather -- which was enjoyable nonetheless. Allah forbid I say anything to deny his Work.

The past few weeks have been emotional, definitely. For me. See where this is going? Inwards. So bear with me for a bit.

I have been accepting, rebelling, doing a little bit of take-no-give, trying to be nonchalant, trying to be passive-aggressive, trying hard not to care. But failing miserably at all attempts. Maybe I am just not meant to be cruel, even at intervals. Maybe all my attempts at being cruel are just to be shot down into foolish acts of immaturity and lack of common sense.

Maybe. Allahu'alam. And alhamdulillah for that. For I don't think I could atone for all the broken hearts that I could have caused, otherwise.

Last weekend was splendid. It was my first foray into the city where I wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere. Ummu Mukhlisah and I left early, and later found out that getting to Flinder's wasn't too urgent a need. So we took our time. We ran on fresh, bouncy grass and took pictures of flowers. We walked all the way down Lygon and smack into the CBD. We were out early enough for most cafes and all retailers to be closed. We took our time and chatted. About stuff.

Later, when she got here, we all went out for a drink at Gloria Jean's. Which means that it is official. I am now a kaki-cafe. Mocha, chai latte, cappucino -- they no longer faze me. Bring it on, I say.

Then, the must-go session at Vic Market. Salmon, oyster mushrooms, ginger.

And we ended the daylight with a spot of reflection and some delish desserts.

Then night came and brought its own untold stories.

The sun did not last very long, for dark, heavy clouds came soon after.

And now it feels like spring had not arrived. Like it was just a dream, and I had never let go of my winter coats after all. It's chilly, and my thermoblanket is still my all-weather friend.

So I look further, into the darkness, overlooking the random set of headlight making it down the freeway.

And think of the children now with no father.

And the family dodging bullets that pelt the ground like rain.

And a particular mossy-green dome with your, mine, our names on it. Blood-red stains may cover it soon, and we may not be able to recognize it anymore.

And I think: How could I be so selfish? How could they judge? How could I judge? How could I push away and bigot upon anyone at all?

And I reply: Because I am human. Because I am human by my ruh and by my nafs. Because I do not rule over my nafs. Not yet.

Wallahu'alam bissawab.

How was YOUR day?

this has been a rant by Syazwina Saw at 12:54 am