Thursday, November 23, 2017

There's Something About Autumn


There's something about autumn.. 

There's something about autumn, 
that breathes the ending into beginnings and closure to all love stories.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Favorite Part


"This is my favorite part in the Quran. Someday, read it to me."

"Where?"

"This."


قَدِ افْتَرَيْنَا عَلَى اللَّهِ كَذِبًا إِنْ عُدْنَا فِي مِلَّتِكُمْ بَعْدَ إِذْ نَجَّانَا اللَّهُ مِنْهَا ۚ وَمَا يَكُونُ لَنَا أَنْ نَعُودَ فِيهَا إِلَّا أَنْ يَشَاءَ اللَّهُ رَبُّنَا ۚ وَسِعَ رَبُّنَا كُلَّ شَيْءٍ عِلْمًا ۚ عَلَى اللَّهِ تَوَكَّلْنَا ۚ رَبَّنَا افْتَحْ بَيْنَنَا وَبَيْنَ قَوْمِنَا بِالْحَقِّ وَأَنْتَ خَيْرُ الْفَاتِحِينَ.

 [7 : 89]
 

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

[151117] - Nuskhah Maqārā

Ustaz Muktasyaf
Quick update:

I've been mulling over this for almost four months now. Well it was actually a lot longer. Probably since a year ago but never had the time to carve out a working plan for it cause of, well, stuffs. Alhamdulillah managed to outline them, managed to schedule and insya-Allah I will be releasing a methodical book plan to hafaz the Quran.

I'd like to call it نسخة مقارى (Nuskhah Maqārā). I was sure it's out there somewhere but since I couldn't find it I might as well make one.

Friday, November 10, 2017

[101117] - When You Choose

Photo by Trina Christian on Unsplash

A soft thud. 

I closed the back cover, exhaling a wistful sigh as I stretched my back slowly against the pillow cushion. I smiled, looking over at the pair of young brown eyes looking back into me, wondering what else I was going to say.

It was accustomed to her, my dear Ily Solehah, that I would usually end our bedtime story with a lesson. After all, we've been on so many adventures with every possible book I have had since I was her age. There was always something to talk about.

But this time, it was a bit different.

There's a happy conclusion. An ending that we would make up and fought over and finally agreed upon together. She was giddy, bouncing up and down on the mattress. Four years-old and already this heavy huh, you must have taken after your mother.

She loved Ms. Fitz, so did I. She wonders about the adventures of Jack and Anne, their magical abode high in the trees - so did I. She loves hearing riddles of ancient civilizations - so did I.

"Papa," she quipped, "hurry up." She's doing the sideways-rocking thing again. Hey, I know where you picked that up from kiddo.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Period of Stay: 7/12/2017


I can't believe how time flies by so fast when you don't look at it. I still remember the first time I boarded the plane to Cairo. It was on the night of 27th of September 2012. Wasn't much of a fanfare, really. The occasional tears, the occupationary hugs, and the occlusive goodbye kisses.

As I round-hugged my family members and brother's in-laws, I remember dropping the floodgate and let those emotions run through. If I am going to cry, I am not going to cry alone, I thought. It'd be months before I see them again. Years before my mind came back as a whole again. This may as well be the last time I see you. Right here, at this gate.

Vows were exchanged. Promises pinkied. Forgiveness asked. A promise, to come back only when I am done. To come home as a full-doctor. A human. A changed human.

And while some others began tearing up at the entry gates right before boarding, hanging to their last phone calls considering it'd be the first time a big majority of them ever boarded an airplane, I understood how terrifying it could be.

But I don't forget my promises. Ever. Things could have change. Things may have change. And things do change. But I don't ever forget the promises I made. I know I can't always keep them, but I won't allow those who love me see me fail. When you truly love someone, you don't fail them or let them fail you. You fight even a losing battle. You - can do it. And you - must do it.

As I sat alone at the end of the chilled metal bench, looking out the ceiling-high windows, rains pattering against the glass laid back on a black cold canvas - I could almost see my colleagues' breaths fogged up the glass. Those breaths contained first hopes. Budding hopes. And beyond those tapestry of prayers, a silent white machine hummed majestic, eager to help fulfill those destinies it'd be carrying.

While others sobbed and said sorry to their loved ones, I sat alone, deep in my thoughts. Rehearsing my future years. Yes, I didn't know what plans laid bare for me in those dark nights. Those rains that came down was the perfect moment for prayers so prayed I did. A hell lot of them. 

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

[120217]


I had a dream about you. We were old. Probably 80s. You were on your ward room bed in your hospital gown. I saw your frail white hair and shrunken skin.

I shakingly held your cheeks between my palms and gazed down your brown eyes. And I saw the tiny speck of cloud in your right eye.

"Bus fuuk. Bus yamiin. Bus taht," I checked. "Hmm. You have glaucoma," my thin worn voice whispered.

You smiled and  waved, "Pfft it's fine".

I leaned in and kissed your forehead.

*

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Serendipity



And if I'm being honest? I don't think you realise that you love someone until you do. I think that what makes it so beautiful. There's no loud screeching halt sound inside your heart, no neon signs that, light up and lets you know you have found your favorite thing.

No. I don't think it works like that. I think it's quieter, much calmer. One day you're sitting across this person and you're watching her telling the same story you've heard of fifteen times and, and everything inside you feel safe.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Closure



What should I say
From where to how
I drop my head
And you look at me
That awkward silence

I don’t love you
You probably already know
Even if you cry
My heart doesn’t hurt