This past week has been personified by strings of personal problems and poor focus. I need to get my aura back. Hehe. My comfort words these days are not to sweat the small stuff, and that every cloud has a silver lining. Yeah. Except in Russia.
Today is my youngest brother Luqman's 14th birthday. Happy birthday! It's funny, the more he grew up, the more I thought of him as my baby brother. Or I'm the one who's getting very old... Either way, he is my baby bro. A very big one. Hehehe.
I'm camera-less again this year (yes, it's outrageous), because apparently spare-parts for Olympus were hard to get in Malaysia. I am so going to save money for a fabulous DSLR. Yup. *seraya mengangkat kening*
These sluggish one-liner strings of words are getting ratherish crummy. Yeah? And I'm now depressed after learning that this November Roger Federer is going to engage in an exhibition match with Pete Sampras... in Kuala Lumpur!!! Gggggrrrr... why must they do this to me (Yes, Pa, your Nadal's gonna be there, too!). I shall go search for that silver lining now.
Oh wait. It's almost midnight.
Can I look at the moon instead?
Time is such a marvel. For it seems like bashing my foot into the bedroom door till my toenail almost came out took place only last week, driving my grandfather all the way to Gemencheh to visit my sister a bordering distance beforehand. And I can still relish the out-of-this-world dishes at two of my absolute favourite places to have lunch- my grandfather’s place and the restaurant by the riverside, both serving very ‘kampung’ food, which is my stomach’s definition of heavenly.
The unclad truth is, I’m in Russia, eating disagreeable junks (some of which I cook, so I’m partly to blame), having just moved yet again from the testosterone-laden floor (they made excellent floor mates by the way, except for their gender. Haha. Very nice, very polite.) to a girls’ floor just down the corner four days ago. I’m coping. Uh-huh.
Talking on a more general scope, I’m 21 according to the Gregorian calendar; 22 according to the Hijrian. That in itself is a marvel. Not so because I have managed to grow up to this age, becoming an adult, but for the nagging fact that I have managed to reach this minor milestone of existence feeling as wonderfully confused and moony as I had seven years back. God-willed, I did grow up a bit but being 21 now isn’t what I originally thought it would be like.
Now that Ramadhan has breathed its light once more, it gives me a lot of space to mull over my arid ocean of thoughts. The effort for the better, and the contented feeling at the end of it that I did become better. Yet when next year comes, I feel like I’m back at the beginning of it all again, quite lost and vulnerable. And I had tried to comfort my little heckler of a conscience by deeming it as normal, something that everybody should only feel. The more I try to shake it off though, the more it bugs me. When you don’t feel contented, you don’t. That’s that.
I wish to embrace timeless progress, not merely being a seasonal labourer repeating the same arduous cycle at forever's end. Man, the battle with an-nafs really is exhausting.
However ‘seasonal’ I should feel like though, having Ramadhan is always a blessing- the greatest blessing of time and space to reform, to grow. If we should choose but one time to go all-out in our endeavours, let it be this beautiful month, where every little deed is rewarded in manifolds, and the door to al-maghfirah is never closed. Let’s all work towards a fruitful Ramadhan, inshaallah.
"And in truth We have made the Qur'an easy to remember; but is there any that remembereth?" -Al-Qamar: 17
Taking the meaning literally, my hafazan of the Quran needs a major lot of checking up and progress. I've been stagnant for a great while. *sigh*
I've been considerably chided by a couple of friends for the lack of words on my blog during the holiday, and decently so. How should I say this, eh- to put it in straightforward Latin- I'd got my caput inter nubile. *guffaws* And instead of carpe diem, my motto throughout the two glorious months would more aptly be carpe noctem. So in between all those unfettered busying, I'm afraid there wasn't much left for creative writing, unless I was J.K. Rowling and wouldn't give a hoot about saving up for another year of bland food and incomprehensible entertainment whilst indulging in the glorious sea of ink and quills (or keyboards, more like). For those who couldn't fathom my encrypted language, give it up. I'm blubbering. And why shouldn't I be, when I have been coolly tossed out of my room for two years into a floor full of 'testosterone-laden creatures', as my mother put it (hehe gonna reply your email very soon). I made my case to the guy-in-charge at the dean's office this afternoon who forced me to put across everything in Russian even though he understood English perfectly (probably so that I couldn't babble my heart out, very smart move), before telling me not to worry cos this whole jamboree of an affair was only temporary and would be sorted out very soon. Then he shoo-ed me before I could press further for specifics. Anyhow, it was a relief to know that I won't have to play seesaw with the male-free floor above for shower and other, er, stuff for the entire academic year. Although I'm nauseated at the prospect of packing up yet again for another move if necessary (I'm not exactly the most organised person alive, see). It isn't very helpful either that I've started my classes and the teachers so far have successfully foreshadowed a semester of everlasting fire for us small fries. Yet still, I (unintentionally) slept throughout a third of our first ever lecture today, despite my solemn vow to copy everything this time around. Well, well.
Despite my one-paragraph-madwoman yackety-yak above, I'm still sane, thank goodness. Quite a few words now, wouldn't you say, (ex)Roomie A? =D
A couple of random pictures in the CD my father made me (most pictures were in an unfamiliar format, dunno why. Abah??)
My beloved friend, Faezar and I at my grandfather's kenduri. She said the only times she eat mutton curry would be at our kenduris. Haha.
My sisters, aunt, and I. We were having breakfast at my grandfather's before heading off to Kuala Tembeling and Fraser's Hill. For further news on the latter, please ask my mum and dad.
Nabihah and Erfa, two of my dearest friends during a meeting at KLCC a day before my flight.
With Aki, the day I left for KL.
