Salams,
Kullum am wa antum bikhair.
For the past few days, or maybe few weeks, my posts are completely the copy-paste sort of things. Things that are dearer to me, and I have the highest hopes it will be yours too. I confess, I have no ideas what to write, when to write, and how to write. It seems to me that the ideas have eluded me, and being a passive person, I have no heart to chase it; be it the most important ideas or otherwise.
Please bear with me.
A friend has told me, I have an the influential writing, in which it can affect or wreck hearts. It is the highest honour, coming from an honourable lady. But I beg to differ, I do not think my writing is really inspiring. I write craps most of the times, and idocy for the rest. Sometimes I really hate myself after I post the entry, it shows how worthless I feel to that extend. I dream to be a good blogger, writing experiences that can bring audiences closer to The Exalted, Allah swt. But if I dont really have a good relationship with Him, how could I, the most sinful slave, write things that I do not really do? Owh Allah, I strive hard to be closed to you, please accept my humbling prayers. Please.
I couldnt write. Doesnt matter how worried I am, I still couldnt write. Some concepts are difficult to tie it with the empirical results, it's the analysis that show how far you go in this area. This academic writing really drives me crazy. I know now, I must have a complete silence to do the analysis. Not even a slightest distraction. I wonder, how do Sir Leicester, Lady Durham, and Lady Essex write their papers? They have a far greater preoccupation, yet they are more than able to produce a greter paper. Lazy lady, I am, yes, I admit it. I will be more than understanding once I am in my supervisor's shoe, insyaAllah.
A friend asks me what I am doing for life. Being so elusive, I am reluctant to reveal to him who I am, as in this capitalist world, it is a job that defines who you are, such a beastly concept. And I have received the most shocking reply ever - I hope what you do to bring home the bacon is halal. I nearly die with laughing so hard, literaly I roll on floor laughing my ass off. Astagfirullah, yes, I will try my very best to bring home the halal bacon, so to speak. I retold this funny story to my other friend, she is also laughing her pant off. Goodness me, she replies, you have the most innocent face ever, how could he presume you to be like that? I shrug my shoulders, well, some people. By the way, I do not have the innocent face, ask my other friends.
Do we judge people by his/her physical appearance? Or her/his aura? Or her/his manerism? Or his/her wealth? Talking about love, a friend told me the meaning of love written in the SOLUSI magazine (if I'm not mistaken), it is the reflection of ourselves we find in them. Without being cliche, love is an overused concept, yet we never grow tire of talking about it. Yes, if I love a man, it must be that I love his quality that equal to mine, or the quality that I seek and hope to be mine.
My friend writes: menurut Imam Ghazali, cinta itu ialah kecenderungan jiwa yang amat kuat dalam diri seseorang kepada sesuatu atau seseorang lain yang memberi kelazatan, manfaat dan sangat serasi dengan fitrahnya. Rasanya kita akan menyintai seseorang/sesuatu jika ia refleks kepada fitrah diri. In a sense, kita sebenarnya menyintai diri sendiri. We can love somebody, because that somebody has the quality that reflects you, eventhough you don't have that quality yet.
And she knows why I loved him: because he remains faithful to Allah, even when the entire world is against him. And I really know why she loves him: because he is a fighter, even when he is alone in his war, in his jihad, even when the entire world is against him, he still stands tall, never weavers in his jihad. I know sister, I know it.
Kullum am wa antum bikhair.
For the past few days, or maybe few weeks, my posts are completely the copy-paste sort of things. Things that are dearer to me, and I have the highest hopes it will be yours too. I confess, I have no ideas what to write, when to write, and how to write. It seems to me that the ideas have eluded me, and being a passive person, I have no heart to chase it; be it the most important ideas or otherwise.
Please bear with me.
A friend has told me, I have an the influential writing, in which it can affect or wreck hearts. It is the highest honour, coming from an honourable lady. But I beg to differ, I do not think my writing is really inspiring. I write craps most of the times, and idocy for the rest. Sometimes I really hate myself after I post the entry, it shows how worthless I feel to that extend. I dream to be a good blogger, writing experiences that can bring audiences closer to The Exalted, Allah swt. But if I dont really have a good relationship with Him, how could I, the most sinful slave, write things that I do not really do? Owh Allah, I strive hard to be closed to you, please accept my humbling prayers. Please.
I couldnt write. Doesnt matter how worried I am, I still couldnt write. Some concepts are difficult to tie it with the empirical results, it's the analysis that show how far you go in this area. This academic writing really drives me crazy. I know now, I must have a complete silence to do the analysis. Not even a slightest distraction. I wonder, how do Sir Leicester, Lady Durham, and Lady Essex write their papers? They have a far greater preoccupation, yet they are more than able to produce a greter paper. Lazy lady, I am, yes, I admit it. I will be more than understanding once I am in my supervisor's shoe, insyaAllah.
A friend asks me what I am doing for life. Being so elusive, I am reluctant to reveal to him who I am, as in this capitalist world, it is a job that defines who you are, such a beastly concept. And I have received the most shocking reply ever - I hope what you do to bring home the bacon is halal. I nearly die with laughing so hard, literaly I roll on floor laughing my ass off. Astagfirullah, yes, I will try my very best to bring home the halal bacon, so to speak. I retold this funny story to my other friend, she is also laughing her pant off. Goodness me, she replies, you have the most innocent face ever, how could he presume you to be like that? I shrug my shoulders, well, some people. By the way, I do not have the innocent face, ask my other friends.
Do we judge people by his/her physical appearance? Or her/his aura? Or her/his manerism? Or his/her wealth? Talking about love, a friend told me the meaning of love written in the SOLUSI magazine (if I'm not mistaken), it is the reflection of ourselves we find in them. Without being cliche, love is an overused concept, yet we never grow tire of talking about it. Yes, if I love a man, it must be that I love his quality that equal to mine, or the quality that I seek and hope to be mine.
My friend writes: menurut Imam Ghazali, cinta itu ialah kecenderungan jiwa yang amat kuat dalam diri seseorang kepada sesuatu atau seseorang lain yang memberi kelazatan, manfaat dan sangat serasi dengan fitrahnya. Rasanya kita akan menyintai seseorang/sesuatu jika ia refleks kepada fitrah diri. In a sense, kita sebenarnya menyintai diri sendiri. We can love somebody, because that somebody has the quality that reflects you, eventhough you don't have that quality yet.
And she knows why I loved him: because he remains faithful to Allah, even when the entire world is against him. And I really know why she loves him: because he is a fighter, even when he is alone in his war, in his jihad, even when the entire world is against him, he still stands tall, never weavers in his jihad. I know sister, I know it.
