Today, God is dead. We have killed Him. Nietzsche.
Ahlul Bait. Salafiyah. Sufiyya.
Kebaikan itu meminta pengorbanan.
- I've grown weary of this journey. There is indeed a beginning in this journey, but I believe that it is not yet an end-unless death knocks my door first. I will still walk the path- exhausted and ragged, lost and confused, but I am positive. I am now positive. Very positive.
FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.--Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view 10
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods, 20
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone.
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration:--feelings too 30
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world, 40
Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,--
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft-- 50
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart--
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity, 60
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led: more like a man 70
Flying from something that he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all.--I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love, 80
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.--That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompence. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes 90
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels 100
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear,--both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 110
Of all my moral being.
Nor perchance,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once, 120
My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 130
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, 140
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance--
If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence--wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream 150
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love--oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
Tidak semua kita-kita ini Allah kurniakan dengan ibu-bapa yang soleh dan solehah. Tidak semua daripada kita-kita ini Allah kurniakan dengan pengalaman hidup dalam baitul muslim.
Namun hati. Jangan bersedih. Jangan tewas dengan tipuan syaitan.
Usah disangka ketidaksolehan ibu bapamu itu petanda dirimu tiada erti buat mereka. Jangan disangka bahawa cinta dan sayang seorang ibu, seorang bapa memerlukan ketaatan kepada Allah untuk dimanifestasikan. Tidak. Cinta itu sunnah alam. Yakinlah, ibu-bapa kalian, meski di mata kalian ada cacat celanya adalah hadiah Allah untuk kalian.
Jauhkanlah diri daripada bersangka buruk terhadap ibu bapa kita. Siapalah kita untuk membuat prasangka buat insan-insan ini yang bersengka mata memujuk si kecil di waktu malam, yang mengikat perut memastikan anak-anak mereka lena tidur dek kekenyangan. Ya, mereka mungkin lalai dengan urusan agama, namun dalam banyak perkara lain, mashaAllah mereka sangat menabur jasa.
Prasangka kita terhadap ibu-bapa kita sebenarnya boleh menampakkan wujudnya bibit-bibit takabbur dalam hati kita. Ketidaksenangan kita terhadap ibu bapa kita seolah-olah kita merasakan kita sudah lebih hebat daripada mereka. Naudzubillah min dzalik.Janganlah kita berasa bangga dengan mampunya kita menghafaz beberapa surah panjang dalam Quran, sedang ibu bapa kita masih tersangkut-sangkut atau mungkin tidak tahu membaca langsung. Janganlah berasa angkuh dengan pengalaman kita mengkaji berpuluh-puluh makalah-makalah ilmu duniawi dan ukhrawi, sedang ibu bapa kita hanya sekadar tahu menahu akan dunia menerusi berita televisyen dan suratkhabar tempatan.
Detik kalian merasakan sedemikian, ketahuilah bahawa di sisi Tuhan-Nya, ilmu itu tidak menambah manfaat buat kalian sedikitpun- meski ilmu kalian setinggi kalian kalau dibandingkan.
Janganlah lesu mengajak ibu bapa kita ke lembah yang lebih baik daripada keduniaan dan kesibukannya, apatah lagi sebilangan kita sudahpun merasakan betapa indahnya hidup berpandukan Islam secara menyeluruh. Tetapi janganlah kita merasakan mereka dalam lembah kehinaan. Maha suci Allah, bukan begitu caranya kita berdakwah kepada ibu bapa kita.
Kesangsian ibu bapamu buatmu bukanlah petanda mereka bodoh. Mereka mungkin sahaja benar-benar tidak tahu, lantas benar-benar tidak memahami. Keadaanmu yang kecewa dan melampiaskan kekecewaan ini dengan kata-kata yang mengguris hati ibu bapamu hanyalah merosakkan hubungan kekeluargaanya yang suci martabatnya dalam Islam, malah merosakkan imej agama ini yang meletakkan ibu dan bapa di bawah darjat Rasulullah sendiri.
Perbaikilah dirimu juga kerana ibu bapamu, meski di bibir-bibir mereka menyatakan ketidakyakinan terhadap hijrah yang cuba kamu sarankan, mereka akan cuba memahami, inshaAllah kalau saja kamu mengurangkan kata-kata, sebaliknya menambah hujah dalam amalan.
Akhirnya, sekiranya segalanya tidak berhasil, yakinlah dengan janji Allah. Bersabarlah. Lembutkanlah hatimu dengan kepercayaan bahawa hidayah itu ialah hak mutlak milik Allah yang mahu mencampakkannya kepada sesiapa yang Dia mahukan. Doalah kepada Tuhanmu seikhlas mungkin.
Dan doakanlah kesejahteraan ibu bapamu dunia dan akhirat, kerana sekiranya kita ini anak yang soleh di mata Tuhanmu, doa ini akan menjadi kiraan amalan untuk ibu bapamu kelak, sesuai dengan kata-kata Junjungan Mulia :
Apabila seorang anak Adam itu meninggal dunia, maka terputuslah amalannya kecuali tiga perkara iaitu sedekah jariah, ilmu yang bermanafaat dan doa anak soleh yang mendoakannya (Hadith Riwayat Muslim).
I am certainly quite adamant in terms of my beliefs, I think.
For example, I fully acknowledge hijab as a model of modesty for muslims, but I do not agree with the idea that any kind of institutions, university, for example, should make it compulsory for their students to adhere to this rule of clothing.
I strongly believe that there is, to a certain extent, a 'freedom to sin'. Such is why God created free will for human - to obey God as they wish, or to disobey God as they wish- but, they have to remember, they have been warned of its dire consequences.Unless the sin disrupts social order, then a collective action could be taken.
Faithfulness and obedience comes up from within. Forcing someone to adhere to something they don't believe in is a PR disaster. Such is why institutionalisation of religious ethics is the worst thing that can happen to a religion.I read malaysiakini.com , where a letter from a reader, titled Kod etika pakaian: Tiada aurat, terpelihara umat , complaining about the 'discrimination' faced by the male students ( what?) and how the university should make it compulsory for students to wear full hijab for muslims and ' pakaian yang sopan' for non-muslims.
What kind of discrimination? Because male are forced to wear tie, that is discrimination? Then, secularly speaking, isn't forcing muslim women to wear hijab so that "pengurusan universiti tidak disoal Tuhan di akhirat" technically a discrimination as well, since somebody ( women) are * forced* to do things * they don't want* ( no matter how sacred it is)?I also disagree how people determine what is deemed "pakaian yang sopan" for nonmuslim. As far as I know, there are not a single time that people would consult non-muslims, religious and non-religious, young and old about what is deemed 'sopan' to them. " Haiya KAMI kata sopan, lu ikut sajalah! " punya mentality.
The writer also suggests that kumpulan-kumpulan mahasiswa Islam di setiap universiti perlulah menjadi penggubalan undang-undang mewajibkan penutupan aurat" isu yang diperjuangkan sepanjang zaman dan desakan mesti dibuat sehingga ia diwartakan menjadi undang-undang sah universiti di seluruh negara". Do as you may. It's your democratic right to campaign for all you believe in. But, isn't it sad, there are so many other things that needs campaigning. How about the aim that 100% Muslim students in the club got first class honours? Or at least, how about aiming that 10% of Muslim students JOIN the Islamic organization?
I firmly believe that hijab is a great way of protecting muslims' modesty, men and women. I firmly believe that hijab is also a symbolic way of showing the majesty and honour of Islam. Nevertheless, forcing someone to this is an invasion of privacy and rights.
We need to focus on core issue , not some peripheral issues. All I see that Muslim students ( university students) burning pictures of Adam Lambert, simply because he is gay and a bad role model.
You burned pictures of Adam Lambert because he is a bad role model, but how about the idea that people have the right to burn pictures/ image representations of Prophet Muhammad because " he is a terribly bad role model for humanity. Days before his death, he instructs his companions to expel ALL non-Muslims from Arabia. His 21st century fanatical followers, Taliban, behead people on the video and proud of it. What a role model ".
Whenever you use "authority' as a justification of your actions, you simply lose the game, and losing a game for something so peripheral doesn't feel fun at all. This is a cruel world of democracy. Bear with it.
The wonders of Auckland Uni General Library and the celebration of curiosity.
Here, I discover quite a number of prominent writers, living and deceased, gay and straight, liberal and conservative- all their works epitomised on paper stacked together neatly and nicely on the shelves-waiting for curious hands to browse around.
Of all, I am grateful for Khalil Gibran. A Lebanese living in the early 20th century, this Christian writer talks about spirituality in such a profound way it transcends religions. His works are honest recollections of his beliefs in humanity and his passion for the meanings of self-appreciation and ourselves to others. His works are celebrations of love, modesty,love and faith. His ideas influenced so many people he was called the Prophet of Lebanon, the Master...
Recently I stop publishing posts in this blog.
I am not busy or anything- in fact, I am quite very free indeed, and I had composed many blog posts which however are published in my private blog- for my own reading, for my own reflection.
There are too many words that are not meant for public viewing. Too many questions that if known would create quite scandalous remarks about my faith.Haha.
My my, am I depressed? Perhaps. Stressed out? Perhaps.Suicidal? Not telling.
But I am very certain all these bad moods do not come from people around me.
I'm all beyond that, I am certain .Thank God.
I am no longer a little teenager who seeks comfort in the embrace of illusory friendships. Or a defiant teenager who hates God, and seeks wicked adventures to 'defy' the Lord head on.
I'm pretty tamed now, I guess .
Nevertheless, my personal quest is far from being done and ended.
Everything is as real as illusions might be. Or everything is all illusions as realities all are.That is what I believe.
In the beginning, it's already hard for me to believe in anything. Anything. Even if I did believe in anything, eventually it will fade out, slowly or rapidly and I cease to believe. I can't stop this obsession. I challenge. I stressed myself out. I embrace uncertainty. Because in the end, all of these are the ones that for now, truly define who I am.
These few months, more than ever in my entire life so far, I have been very much engrossed in my journey of self discovery. This journey is still that same journey years ago, though. The same way. The same situation . The battlefield is still happening in my mind, in my dreams, in my writings. Just much intense. I am still me who occasionally wakes up in the middle of the night-usually from various nightmares I had- and sit on my bed lamenting and shivering. The nightmares are very symbolic, sometimes. The crafty works of the Devils. At other times the dreams were a pure recollection of all the memories I regretted my whole life and suppressed the whole time. In dreams I lost my control over these chains of memories. These memories play all over- and I woke up wanting to cry so much- and I did, a few times. Or sometimes I would write so many things on pieces of paper or books and then tore it all out- then dumping it somewhere- as if I am leaving those feelings in those words and their meanings- and I'm running from them. They are however, always come back . Sometimes I don't sleep for a day or two because I don't want to see those memories,sometimes I want to sleep so long that I feel I don't want to wake up anymore.
It isn't about loneliness, though. That is all teenage stuffs. Or friendship. I never put high priority on friendship anyway. Friends come and go- that's life. All I know that I've tried to fulfil my role as their friends, and trying not to disturb my friends with my never ending issues( ouch). And along the years, I've made friends whom I love for love's sake, and sometimes for God's sake. I learned ukhuwwah- such magnificent word with such majestic meaning. I learned respect. I learned cooperation. I learned to give and take. I learned love.
For years, it is all about emptiness. And I'm not talking about friendship, study and love. Those are all external factors. I feel this emptiness because for so long I've tried to not talk to myself.
An honest conversation with yourself is a hard thing. You may lie with friends and others, but there is an extent to how you can lie to your own self. To strike a conversation with my own self of the past is a painful matter, to explain to myself what and who I am now is very complicated, and to describe what I would be in the future is so confusing.
It isn't so much at changing myself- in the end, it's the idea that I should embrace my self for who I am- yet leaving some empty spaces in between so that the other side also mutually strives to embrace me. Erm, I should say, other sides.
For I am many.
Some of the people my age I have known had gone far ahead in their lives. They are the leaders in their circles of friends, they are participants of many great missions of humanity, and a lot of them are working in such great causes. I am so pathetic to let myself busied with my own personal issue.
I'm optimistic ,though. "God didn't make mistakes- that I believe.". For now.
p/s: I seriously think that I have some kind of bipolar disorder problem. Haha.
Dah mula malas memasak kebelakangan ini.
Lebih rela membeli saja. Aish mahalla hidup camni.
Dua-tiga hari ini pulak asyik mengantuk saja. Tidur berbelas-belas jam pun mengantuk lagi.
...
Today I really wish that I didn't wake up from my sleep.
It's like a glorious symphony of creation- God has tempted me these few days with temptations of nature, it seems.
Just a couple a days ago, I discover a new poet ( I mean, an old poet, yes I just know him a few days ago) : eecummings.
One of the poems of his :
i thank You God for most this amazing day
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened) E.E.Cummings, 1894 – 1962
When suddenly you are able to 'live' those moments, though in dreams, and as a matter a fact a pure recollection from all the places you've been to ( very similar to the Daffodils moment by Wordsworth, perhaps) , you know you don't want to wake up to a silly, sombre reality.
You are what you repeatedly do, says great Master Aristotle.
Hence, I deduce it from there that some of us are what we repeatedly read.
I'm not a really avid reader. I've never really been into reading when I was in primary school- the only things I read back then are pure comic books aka manga, Japanese comics like Dik Cerdas ( Crayon Shin Chan) or Mutiara Naga ( Dragon Ball) . In secondary schools, because of some issues back then- with stabbing friendships, confusions and all , I seek the library for consolation. Most of the libraries from the schools I've been into aren't that big anyway. But there are books- interesting books indeed.
Maybe I was really tired of the drama. I seek comfort in silent words engraved on papers. Books don't bite. Men do.
The first book that I am really infatuated with is Di Bawah Bayangan Pohon Delima by Tariq Ali. A translated book telling of the history of Al-Andalus and how it falls- from the perspective of the writer- which incorporated both fiction and facts. It was lovely. I read the book many, many times. The story is quite monumental even- rather than the story of some glorious never-sin-all-perfect kingdom attacked by all-evil-super-cunning-the Satan-on-Earth Catholics of Spain- the writer tries to give a more realistic and humane view of such tragedy. The various characters are given such vivid and interesting lives, and portrayed in such a complex manner that it is both an enjoyment and a wept of tragedy. ( Talk about this so-called-heretical book being my first serious reading) .
Then I've tried reading many other things- even getting my hands reading some Arabic books from the library. Not fun at all- most of the books in the Arabic sections are fiqh and tasawwuf books- what is so fun about that? Nevertheless, I just read them.
Then I discover Faisal Tehrani. Then I discover Paulo Coelho. Then I discover Nisah Haron.
So far, these three writers give such a profound impact to my thinking and view of the world.
Among many things that I learn from Faisal Tehrani is how history has many dimensions. There is no such thing as divine simplicity in history. It is a mystery in itself. You can actually think of something that you think had happened ( which may not be the case) and simply by gathering all your desirable 'facts'- tadaa, a historical theory. I've developed my sense of being critical in all things around me. Maybe I made it worse than what is needed- I realised that sometimes, I am not just unfairly critical , I am really am becoming a full-fledged pessimist.
Then I discover Paulo Coelho. Many confusion evaporates- or turn worse, as some of my friends pointed out. Hehe. He is such an enigma to me. From the books he wrote and all- I now develop a sense of profoundness whenever I see the contradictions around me- this writer has clearly to be able to play such complexities into parts of something greater- and I found that to be interesting. From him, I learn the idea of "spiritual salvation". From him, I learn so much about life that is in itself , fairly boring. ( Maybe I also learn to be a pacifist from his writing- now that I think of it).
Nisah Haron, on the other hand, clearly make me appreciates my prescribed identities . Her works make me proud of being a Muslim, being a Malay, being a speaker of Malay language. The schooling system failed to make me appreciate the beauty of my own culture- yet Nisah Haron successfully did that. From her excellent use of pantuns and syair, I develop a sense of gratefulness of being a Malay. I am proud of being a Malay. Why self-hate your own identity?
I've also read other works- ranging from Sufi to Salafi, from Spiritualist to Atheist- confusion still knocks the door of my head here and then- but I know now that to discover is not necessarily to find the answer, perhaps it is simply, this journey of reading is already an answer in itself.
As years gone by, maybe some said that I should settle down a bit . After all, theoretically, supposedly, I am already under THE answer, tarbiyah. Why bother with everything else when you have here all the wealth of knowledge provided from the 'prescribed reading'?
I simply don't know why. I've known that my confusion had subsided since I settled down a bit, but so far, I'm still that open-minded me after all, and it's very unlikely to change any time soon. The thing about settling down is you don't really question that much because you've have enough- you are fine with settling for half- I still am not.
At least I know now that I need not to have a conflict with God anymore.
