Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Unheard Voice of My Heart


alahai comelnye abang dgn adik

What do you do when what you speak of doesn’t truly mean what’s in your heart?

For example, today you want to tell your mother how much you love her.

Initially, your flawlessly planned sentence that you had spent the whole night working on goes like this,



“My dear beloved mother, know that not a minute goes by that I did not think of
you. If you are a bank, then I’m the loaner, because I owe you so much, that
there’s not a single account in this world can possibly hold all the love and
care you have given me all these years. I’m so lucky to have you as my mom. I’m
the world’s richest girl, don’t you know that mom? Not in wealth, but in
abundance of joy and love that we share. Nothing in this world can beat that. If
there is one thing in this world that you don’t have to be afraid of, it’s my
word that I’ll always be there to take care of you when you’re old. At least that’s one thing I can promise you with. Thank you, mom. Love you.”

Oh my, I can picture her right now..she’d cry her eyes out..but I’ll beat her too it..

Of course, I’m the most sentimental person on this planet. In Malaysia, people call people like me “jiwang”. (hahaha) Sometimes they add “karat”, making it “jiwang karat”! If the English people knew what it means LITERALLY, they’d laugh their tongues out!! (Sentimental rust!!)

Actually, it’s not just today. In fact, everyday you wish you could go up to her and say, “Mother, thank you for bringing me into this world. I love you, I always will.”

But then there’s this one voice inside you, saying,


“No, don’t do that! What would your mother think of you! Why would a girl say
that to her mom EVERYDAY? I mean, come on, it’s like you are obsessed or
something! Or maybe…you are a…les****??”

Before, I would have failed to come up with a good reason. But, surely, I’m not some demoralized creature who degrades herself to love the same gender!!


Eeeww..that’s the MOST DIGUSTING, FOUL AND STUPID THING a HUMAN can think of!


How creative, let’s try marrying the same sex, and see what’s it like. Could be fun, you know?
Yeah right.


How far more can a human humiliate himself in front of his Creator?


Back to me. Like I said, before, I myself couldn’t understand why I have this…this..tendency to love someone so much. Of course, it’s not so weird when you love your mom, dad, brothers and sisters.

But..sometimes..a lot of times, I miss the company of friends.

You know, pals. People with almost the same age as me.



I miss all the talk we had together. All the funny things (and sometimes stupid) we did together. Playing basketball (well, that wasn’t so much fun..but..they are still memories..*shrugs*).. Eat. Drink.Sleep. Cleaning the dorm. Go to class. Study together. Take exams together. (haha..that’s no fun)




Are friends family? I don’t know how to say that. I feel they’re like my family, because historically, WE ARE from one man and women, the Prophet Adam a.s and Hawa a.s. So…historically, we are ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY, right? Hmm..

On the other hand, we’re not of the same mom and dad, so technically, we’re not family.

But all the same, I’ve always felt like there’s this invisible connection. There’s no rope that binds our hearts…but I’ve always felt like there is one. Well, especially among muslims.

Maybe it’s because of what we believe? All muslims believe in the same one principle, which is “There is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is His Messenger”. This principle is the oath of each muslim which we renew in our daily prayers.

Maybe ‘The Invisible Rope’ does exist. But WHO IS HOLDING IT?

WHO IS BRINGING THE MANY HEARTS AS ONE..under the banner of faith?



I believe in ‘The Invisible Rope’. Just like I believe in the invisible God.



I don’t see Him anywhere. I’ve never seen Him. In fact, nobody’s ever seen Him. Except a man named Muhammad ibnu Abdullah.(if I’m not mistaken)



But there is one book. A book which tells me many stories about Him. How He created the earth I step on everyday, the earth which gives me the air I breathe in and uses the air I breathe out. And in return, bears us fruits and colourful flowers. Stories on how He created the first human, Nabi Adam a.s. and how many more will descend from this man and his wife, Hawa a.s.



But, they will forget, says the book. Many will forget that they were created. Many will forget Who created them. Many will not even believe that there is a creator. These people, tells the book, will be dragged on their faces into An-Naar. What is this “An-Naar”, I asked the book? And the book answers, “It is the very worst place to go back to.”



It’s just a book. Nothing more. But is it really JUST A BOOK?



If it’s just a book, then who’s the AUTHOR?



Muhammad SAW says,


“These words are not from me, but know that they are from Allah, the God of the
whole universe”.

Indeed, for Muhammad cannot read, what more to write. Impossible for this man to have written such marvelous words. Enchanting yet they do not mislead. It is as clear as a full moon shining bright in the sky. Because it is the truth. The book “speaks” the truth.



Now, spectacular. That’s what I call amazing. It’s not some amazing circus act but it is still spectacular. The spectacular book.


Last but certainly not least, the book..the AUTHOR of the book tells its readers to LOVE.

“Love your brothers,” it said, “ more than you love yourself”.

Dear God, I do.


But I don’t want them to think weirdly of me. Because I’m still learning. I’m not a full grown up yet but I’m no kid either. I don’t know the best way to..emm..express my feelings. To let them know how much I care about them. That wherever I go their hearts and thoughts are always with me. Always.


But these feelings are locked. Locked away inside a chest. Inside my chest. In a locker called “the heart”.


And the tongue. God, the tongue is so mischievous.


It’s too fast. I wanted to say something else, but I ended up saying crappy things. Stupid things, most of the time. I couldn’t stop myself. And in the end..those precious thoughts are still locked away..forever waiting to be opened..so that they will mean something..instead of just waiting there..not filling it’s purpose..not reaching the hearts I miss so dearly..


That if they are sad, I too feel like crying..That if they are happy, I too felt like laughing. And if they’re no longer here, I too felt like my spirit is not in my body. Those feelings..dear God..are stored..waiting..for me to grow up.

Because an adult, can surely make better decisions, say the right words, that truly reflect her heart..rather than this young mischievous girl who still prefers to keep it a secret, than to openly face them, for fear her feelings have no place in this time and age.

Dear God, only you know..how much I miss Rasulullah, his companions, the muslims before me..who openly proclaim what I now have to keep in my heart a secret, which is

“I love you dear brother, even though you are not my blood brother, because
Allah says so. Whatever I possess is also yours, whatever your sorrows are
also mine, and whatever joy you feel brings great joy to me too..just because Allah
says so.”


Dear God, bring me someone who also has this secret in her heart, so that we both may unlock each other’s hearts.


For we, at last have found..who these feelings were meant for.

I’ll be waiting for you..my gift from Allah.

Please let us meet soon..for I can no longer keep this feeling inside my chest..it is too much for me to hold..alone.. for it is not for me..but it is for those who seek pure love and understanding. Love as muslims.

I’ll be waiting for you..whoever you are..







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