tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78774735641972005352024-02-07T17:40:33.588+08:00Reintrospection: Thoughts and Reflectionsmarzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.comBlogger990125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-55441904871215609472016-03-18T12:26:00.002+08:002016-03-19T00:27:20.077+08:00The Good BoyIt's been a while.<br />
I guess there hasn't been much need to sit and reflect and write coz the days just pass so very fast! Until this week (had extracted the last 3 wisdom tooth and had time to recover at home).<br />
<br />
I realize that sometimes, having too much time may not necessarily be a good thing as you tend to not realize that you're encroaching into other people's space. There's a common space, and then there's personal space. And when you unknowingly and happily stepped into personal space and gets told off, you back away. And hide in your cave once more.<br />
<br />
Because it's safer that way. To be quiet. So that you don't offend anyone.<br />
<br />
It's like that little boy who wants to get close to you. But push him away one too many times, and he will just walk away on his own. Because he is a good boy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-35200528799307393932015-08-25T00:24:00.001+08:002015-08-25T00:24:49.552+08:00478 days later<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;"><i>Ah yes. I had wanted to perform Hajj before marriage. And she remembers. Mothers are awesome like that. Though I do hope that I do not have to wait till 2018.</i></span></blockquote>
<br />
It's been 478 days since I last wrote. Many things have happened since then. Work and sleep taking up most of my time.<br />
<br />
<b>On work</b><br />
<br />
Work was tough. Politics. And I had contemplated on leaving - for i felt like i was the weakest link and the team needed a stronger guy. My future employers even had my email created and had assigned me mentors to assist in my transition but at the last moment, I decided to stay and see the project through no matter how painful and stressful it will be. And true enough, it only got tougher. Both the Senior Project Manager as well as the Senior Project Engineer resigned just as we were about to reach the 19th storey construction. I had no choice but to see the project through. It's been a stressful but truly enriching experience. It should be over when the year ends. *takes a deep breath and fights on*<br />
<br />
Oh, there was the crane collapse on site that fortunately had no casualties early this year!<br />
<br />
<b>On Family</b><br />
<br />
This August saw both twins disrupting from National Service. It's back to school for them and boy are they not liking it! Seeing them complaining to Mama about how tough Uni life is reminds me of my tough 4 years too. Still, they're often seen listening to online lectures and doing the tutorials. May Allah make it easy for them both. The sister and Mama are all well. I miss writing about the stories that Mama often share during late night dinner after my work.<br />
<br />
<b>On Sweet Distraction</b><br />
It's been a while since I've been sweetly distracted.<br />
And alhamdulillah. Parallel lines do meet. I can't begin to describe how it all began. Till next time!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #f6ddae; color: #232323; font-family: 'Droid Sans', Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“And among His signs is this, that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that you may dwell in peace and tranquility with them, and He has put love and mercy between your (hearts): Verily in that are signs for those who reflect”</span></div>
marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-77575845994604836732014-05-03T00:28:00.000+08:002014-05-03T00:28:04.135+08:00Marriage. Weddings. Plans.As the years roll on by, my cousins are starting to get engaged and eventually, married. One cant help but want to hop on the marriage train too.<br />
<br />
Mama mentioned how everyone else seem busy with their children's wedding and such, but not her. And when asked why she doesnt really pressure her children (ie. me) to get married, she reminded me of my plans.<br />
<br />
Ah yes. I had wanted to perform Hajj before marriage. And she remembers. Mothers are awesome like that. Though I do hope that I do not have to wait till 2018.marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-41958240846825581612014-02-09T00:11:00.000+08:002014-02-09T00:24:41.571+08:00Occupation. Palestine. Al-Aqsa.<span style="font-family: inherit;">I recently went to Mecca, Madinah and Palestine simply because I had wanted to travel to places - but could not bring myself to do so until I had stepped foot into Masjidil Aqsa. I guess dear friends, this further shows how I like to make things hard for myself but the hadith was just stuck in my mind that whenever I tried to get around it, I can't. No Al-Aqsa, no Europe or Nepal or wherever it is that I dream of going. The hadith is as follows:</span> <br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); color: grey; direction: rtl; font-family: 'KFGQPC Uthman Taha Naskh', 'KFGQPC Uthmanic Script HAFS', Scheherazade, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 19px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); color: grey; direction: rtl; font-family: 'KFGQPC Uthman Taha Naskh', 'KFGQPC Uthmanic Script HAFS', Scheherazade, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 19px; text-align: justify;">حَدَّثَنَا عَلِيٌّ، حَدَّثَنَا سُفْيَانُ، عَنِ الزُّهْرِيِّ، عَنْ سَعِيدٍ، عَنْ أَبِي هُرَيْرَةَ ـ رضى الله عنه ـ عَنِ النَّبِيِّ صلى الله عليه وسلم قَالَ </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); font-family: 'KFGQPC Uthman Taha Naskh', 'KFGQPC Uthmanic Script HAFS', Scheherazade, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 24px; line-height: 36px; text-align: justify;"> </span><span class="arabic_text_details arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); direction: rtl; font-family: 'KFGQPC Uthman Taha Naskh', 'KFGQPC Uthmanic Script HAFS', Scheherazade, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 19px; text-align: justify;">" لاَ تُشَدُّ الرِّحَالُ إِلاَّ إِلَى ثَلاَثَةِ مَسَاجِدَ الْمَسْجِدِ الْحَرَامِ، وَمَسْجِدِ الرَّسُولِ صلى الله عليه وسلم وَمَسْجِدِ الأَقْصَى "</span><span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); color: grey; direction: rtl; font-family: 'KFGQPC Uthman Taha Naskh', 'KFGQPC Uthmanic Script HAFS', Scheherazade, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 19px; text-align: justify;">.</span></div>
<span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); color: grey; direction: rtl; font-family: 'KFGQPC Uthman Taha Naskh', 'KFGQPC Uthmanic Script HAFS', Scheherazade, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 19px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</span><span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); direction: rtl; font-family: 'KFGQPC Uthman Taha Naskh', 'KFGQPC Uthmanic Script HAFS', Scheherazade, 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 19px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Akzidenz Roman', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Narrated Abu Huraira: </span><span style="font-family: 'Akzidenz Roman', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Do not set out on a journey except for three Mosques i.e. Al-Masjid-AI-Haram, the Mosque of Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) , and the Mosque of Al-Aqsa, (Mosque of Jerusalem). [Bukhari]</span></span></blockquote>
<span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); direction: rtl; font-size: 19px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></span> <span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); direction: rtl; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Alhamdulillah, I've had the opportunity to set out on a second journey to Al-Masjidil Haraam and the Mosque of Allah's Messenger - and for the first time, to Al-Aqsa. Despite the close to 6 hr long wait at the Israeli immigration and the presence of armed guards within the Old City and all across Palestine, </span></span></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">I fell in love with Al-Aqsa, Palestine and Palestinians.</span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"> </span><br />
<span class="arabic_sanad arabic" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); direction: rtl; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></span> <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); line-height: 21px;">Which is why seeing the video below pains me. Israeli soldiers had stormed into the Al-Aqsa compound after Friday prayers - apparently after being thrown stones at by some youths. It pains me how them Israelis exert their control over the Palestinians. I used to be the guy who would point my finger at the youths for provoking the raid but not anymore. May Allah give patience to the Palestinians in their struggle against their oppressors. May Allah reward those who stood firm to defend the mosque against the violence of these oppressors. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); line-height: 21px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); line-height: 21px;">Stumbled upon a comment in the comments section of an Al-Jazeera's <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/news/middleeast/2014/02/israeli-forces-raid-al-aqsa-mosque-201427164534755189.html" target="_blank">article</a> which says: Rock throwers should be arrested, and those who used to fire from Warsaw ghettos at German soldiers should be given "pension", "compensation" and a "certificate". Perspective.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.498039); line-height: 21px;"><br />
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marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-61980536747206098032014-02-07T18:50:00.001+08:002014-02-07T18:50:08.880+08:00Bill Nye Debates Ken Ham - My thoughts. I love Bill Nye.<div class="tr_bq">
So, I've been away. And finally back. I've been wanting to write - and have been procrastinating. Yet oddly, I managed to squeeze in time to watch a 2h 45 minutes <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z6kgvhG3AkI">video </a>that was shared on Facebook as well as some time to draft and post a comment in response to a friend who asked for my view. After much thought, this was a slightly longer version of the short comment that I posted - coz one does not reply a wall of text as a Facebook comment. But then again, it's okay coz I'm commenting on my own post and one does not simply ask me for a view and get a short answer. One could- but it wouldn't be much fun, would it?</div>
<br />
And I love how the "Bill Nye The Science Guy" song is still looping in my brain. BILL BILL BILL BILL BILL BILL BILL<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/SbzouFaMJU4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
Here's the quick exercise of the finger and the brain - my comment:<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
I actually preferred the Creationist's "Creation Orchard" to Darwin's Evolution Tree of Life - that dogs will always be dogs and finches will always be finches make more sense that all species coming from one primordial form.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
On evolution, I too find it an acceptable theory - for all species but mankind. For me personally, when it comes to man and man's first appearance, I do not believe that we evolved from apes. I prefer the narrative that Allah said to the Angels (2:30), "Verily, I am going to place (mankind) generations after generations on earth." And then there's the Adam and Eve story that leads to the start of human life on Earth. I prefer this narrative to Darwin's narrative.<br />So the Earth must've been created before Adam and Eve was sent down. Big Bang, expanding universe, evolution, dinosaurs, you name it - if there's evidence, then it probably is true. On the age of the earth, I'm with Nye and his evidence instead of Ham's explanations, rejection of dating methods and assumptions, and reliance on the flood verses. In 3:191, we are encouraged to "think deeply about the creation of the heavens and the earth" - and I love how Nye is doing just that with his research and all!</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Bill Nye seemed to be worried that religion would retard the progress that they've achieved in technology and research and stuffs - but I would too if teachers in public schools tried to force the idea of 7Cs on my kids - Creation, Corruption, Catastrophe, Confusion, Christ, Cross, Consummation. Perhaps perhaps, for a well rounded education, students should at least be exposed to the different schools of thoughts - and take it up as an elective. And let them decide for themselves whichever seems more appealing. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
More than 1400 years ago, the following verse was revealed: "Indeed, in the creation of the heavens and the earth and the alternation of the night and the day are signs for those of understanding." Perhaps it's got something to do with whatever Nye said about the 2nd law of Thermodynamics at 2:15:00.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
More than 1400 years ago, the following verse was revealed: “Have those who disbelieved not considered that the heavens and the earth were a joined entity, then We separated them, and made from water every living thing? Then will they not believe?” (Quran 21:30)<br />And many many years later after inventions of powerful telescopes and what nots, we have scientists like Nye telling us of how it started with The Big Bang. Amazing. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
My view. Science Rules!</blockquote>
marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-51994907271438360492014-01-02T00:40:00.001+08:002014-01-02T00:40:45.325+08:00Resolve<blockquote class="tr_bq">
‘Abdullah ibn ‘Amr (Allah be pleased with him) said: The Messenger of Allah (may Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him) said: “Every action starts with enthusiasm (i.e. “Shirrah”: excitement, enthusiasm, keenness, energy, fervor, zeal, a spiritual high) and then the enthusiasm wanes." </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He then goes on to give us the solution: “So anyone whose enthusiasm wanes but (remains within the limits of) my Sunnah will be successful, but anyone whose enthusiasm wanes and drifts away to something else, will be doomed.”</blockquote>
<br />
Spent most part of the day in a lecture and the above struck me - how our iman rise and fall. I dislike how some days I feel motivated and some days I do not. I dislike how some days I feel distracted. I've been thinking over it this past couple of hours and figured if I wrote this down, it would somehow be etched in my mind like a permanent reminder.<br />
<br />
Dear me,<br />
<br />
1. Stay away from television, the smart phone, YouTube, Facebook and the likes. Try.<br />
<br />
It distracts. It takes you on a ride through Belgium, Brussels, Istanbul and you get nothing much from it. Hours go by, a movie follows another and another (MioTV had some free movie channels over the festive period), and you're in loss. Granted you were on off from work, but still. Read a book. Take a walk. Exercise.<br />
<br />
2. Clear your mental list.<br />
<br />
There's a list of things to do in that mind of yours like doing a summary sheet for the past 6 sessions of Arabiq, or the report for December, packing your luggage, doing research on the history of the places you'll be visiting. Or read up more on strutting work processes. Or excavation sequence.<br />
<br />
3. Memorize Juz Amma<br />
<br />
You had set yourself a target but didnt really work towards it. Cultivate discipline within yourself. "Distract" yourself by memorizing/reading.<br />
<br />
4. Make dua<br />
<br />
Make lots of dua. Pray for patience. Pray for His guidance when you're feeling distracted or lost. Or when you can't seem to do anything fruitful.<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-28851532304398504282014-01-01T00:51:00.002+08:002014-01-01T00:51:17.805+08:002013. 2014Thoughts not written will fade. And there's been many thoughts that I wanted to write but I simply let them go. But here's something that I had wanted to write some days back but didn't:<br />
<br />
I had just finished my prayers and memory came into my mind. We used to sleep under the same blanket. Some nights when the air con temperature was low, I would give up part of the blanket just so that you could sleep comfortably. But that was many years ago. Now they're both grown up and I could only steal moments to be close to them only when they're asleep. Boys will be boys. If I had an elder brother, I too wouldnt want to be treated like I'm still six!<br />
<br />
*****************************************************************************<br />
<br />
2013 has been the year where I tried to establish myself in my career. There were ups and downs. The showflats. The piling. The excavation. The bosses. The senior. The learning. 6 days a week has made work occupy a significant portion of my 2013 - something which I kinda dislike very much. It dilutes pretty much every other more important things.<br />
<br />
May 2014 be a year where I make work my number 2 priority in life.<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-1226086117004688542013-12-24T18:02:00.001+08:002013-12-24T18:02:30.889+08:00Growing upShe was excited when my brother had expressed interest to apply for a position in the Navy. However, when she saw the blank application form in the kitchen, she wondered if he had changed his mind. We later found out that he had withdrawn his application on his own accord. When asked, he mentioned that he needed two guarantors for the said application - and that I'm not eligible as I'm currently one for my sister.<br />
<br />
He saw how difficult it was for my sister to find a guarantor - especially when she approached some cousins. And I guess he didn't want us to go through the same "begging" process.<br />
<br />
While I'm somewhat disappointed that he hadn't consulted me or my mum in the matter, I'm also glad coz it shows how far he's grown. I wouldn't have minded helping him ask around on his behalf. I have several friends in mind whom I could have asked.<br />
<br />
Well, I guess things happen for a reason. At the very least, I hope I've gotten the point across to him and his twin clearly - that wherever possible, I'll be there to help.<br />
<br />
<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-70572108278986767802013-12-04T19:16:00.000+08:002013-12-04T19:16:55.727+08:00Sensitive old peopleI used to find old people weird. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Weird because they get slighted over the littlest things. They get upset when we do not drop them a call for a long time. They get upset at the slightest rejection of their ideas. They get upset when others do not agree with them. Their hearts seem softer and much more sensitive than they used to be. And I wondered why. Weird, they are... until one day someone shared a perspective that I find pretty interesting. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The older one becomes, the closer one is to Death. This "newfound" sensitive nature - a reminder and preparation for death. The distance that may form between us and those around us makes us become closer to the One that created us. When we feel as though the world's against us, we're reminded of the One who is always there for us. I find it amazing how He reminds and guides us even when we're approaching death - like the kind invigilator who reminds and gives additional few minutes to those who're frantically racing to complete the exam paper.</div>
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<br /></div>
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As it's often the case for me, it's only when I feel alone that I find myself find Him. </div>
marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-21062484032536946342013-12-03T00:49:00.001+08:002013-12-03T00:49:56.963+08:00The Missing NovemberI don't know how many times I've been writing this but work does take time away from the things you love doing.<br />
<br />
November's the month in which we had to relocate the showflat. The planning, safety, coordination and details and the endless chasing of people to get things done was a pretty draining process. Part of the learning, I'd tell myself. Reaching home late often meant a cranky or tired me. Some nights, I found myself sleeping in the living room within 10 minutes of a quick lie down. Even Mama stopped nagging at me for sleeping in my work clothes. Either that or I must not have heard.<br />
<br />
There was a brief period in which me and Ma did Maghrib and Isya together, and I checked her recitation which was honestly, better than I thought. However, November came and broke whatever momentum there was. While I know I should not let work control me and the things I do outside work, sometimes it just happens. I remember ranting to my mum about my work and how tough it can be at times early this November. I remember her reminding me that this is what the working world is like. And she added, <i>"Ini baru alam pekerjaan. Belum lagi alam percintaan. Belum lagi alam perkahwinan."</i><br />
<br />
That this, is just the working world. That I've yet to go through the trials of love and marriage.<br />
<br />
While I know that she's probably trying to tell me to hang on, that everything I'm going through at work is normal and that things are gonna be alright, I can't help but wonder if love and marriage would make things any easier. I'm reminded of how a colleague once shared how his wife joked that after marriage, she felt like a married widow - simply because her husband either worked late or comes back home too tired. I laughed, but fear the day my future wife says the same.<br />
<br />
I remember that while ranting to my mum, the phone began to rang. My younger brother called from camp - the twins routinely call back home once in a while. He called to say hi and shared with my mum what went on in the day, complained about some things. And then moments later, my sister called from her trip overseas to say hello. I realized that we all turn to our mum to hear some words of comfort once in a while. No matter how much we feel that we've grown up, we need her words to remind when we forget and reassure us when we feel troubled.<br />
<br />
I remember realizing how fortunate we are that our mom's a stay-at-home mum who looks after our needs. If she was a working mum, I wonder if she'd have the time and the strength to listen to her children's stories and complains and the likes. Or would she simply go to bed early, like I've been doing most of November.<br />
<br />
And then I realized that I'd need someone to be there for me should the day come when my mum is no longer around. Someone whom I could call everyday and ask, <i>"Hello. Nari masak apa? I'm on my way back." </i>Someone who could hear me rant and offer some words of advice.<br />
<br />
November also made me realize how I'm starting to feel a little more sensitive - like old people. I don't know why. I find myself thinking and reflecting about life and happiness. I find myself missing my siblings. I find myself thinking about my mother. And then I find myself tearing, again. Perhaps, it's been a while since I had my eyes washed. I guess the body has it's unique way of making things happen.<br />
<br />
And then there's 3 weddings in November. And another 3 in December. And then there's the planned break in January. Hopefully the journey to the three mosques would be the break that could help sort out the mess and knots in my mind. Until then, hello December. Be nice.marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-58624872299401162892013-10-27T22:04:00.000+08:002013-10-27T22:04:01.192+08:00The VoiceThe voice is a gift often overlooked.<br />
<br />
It started with a combination of fever, flu and cough on Monday followed by 2.5 days of work despite feeling under the weather. Took the loss of my voice as a sign to visit the doctor - and she gifted me a 3 day MC. It seems that the body too has its way of forcing me to take a break!<br />
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Lack of water. The sun. The dust. Stress. Lack of sleep. Lack of healthy food. Lack of exercise. And who knows what else resulted in my body's shut down. Took the mind off work completely. Ample rest. A couple of jug of barley drink. Lemon. Meds. Sign language. Whispers and plenty of water later...and the voice is finally (partially) back.<br />
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And so is work. Still can't figure why I'm getting less and less psyched up about work lately. Something's not right and I need to put a finger to it fast.marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-38680121117206899732013-10-15T23:38:00.000+08:002013-10-15T23:38:16.412+08:00Sometimes, big boys do cryHe thought he had mastered the art of controlling his emotions.<div>
But he later realized that he hadn't - the moment his voice began to crack midway through the recitation of Surah Al-Fatihah. And for some weird reason, tears rolled down his eyes and he couldn't control it. Perhaps it was the dust in the living room. </div>
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Or perhaps the build-up of emotions were simply too much for the mind to ignore. Big boys cry too - even if it's only for a short while. </div>
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marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-27484288454144890612013-10-14T00:41:00.000+08:002013-10-14T00:41:08.079+08:00Twenty Five. Twenty Six.<h3 class="r" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; text-overflow: ellipsis; white-space: nowrap;">
<span dir="rtl">بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَنِ الرَّحِيم</span></h3>
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Firstly, alhamdulillah for being given the opportunity to turn 26 on the 2nd of October. </div>
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It's been a while since I last wrote. I missed writing about Eid, how I totally forgot about my mama's birthday on the 31st of August, and how both my brothers were recently enlisted, and how weekdays without them felt so empty. I missed writing about turning 26 and my reflection on life this past year - oh what a 25th year (yes, work work work!!) it has been! And I missed writing about the passing of my beloved grandmother on the 6th of October.</div>
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Work has been very very overwhelming. The mind's in a mess. It feels like there's a million and one things to learn and do and being the hardworking worker that I am, I'm allowing myself to be drowned as I swim my way through this hard time. It's been a year and 3 months since I first joined the company and there's still a lot more to learn. Countless times I feel like raising the white flag but there's a part of me that enjoys this struggle. I pray for the day when everything clicks and everything begin to feel more manageable. A part of me always reminding that the next job, should I ever decide to call it quits, will not be any easier. </div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">On no soul doth Allah Place a burden greater than it can bear</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> – [Quran 2:286]</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The Prophet said, “No fatigue, nor disease, nor sorrow, nor sadness, nor hurt, nor distress befalls a Muslim, even if it were the prick he receives from a thorn, but that Allah expiates some of his sins for that.”</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> (Sahih Bukhari Vol. 7, Book 70, #545)</span></span></blockquote>
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But still some days, lately most days, it feels as though I'm starting to distant myself from people in general. I believe that's what people do when they graduate and enter the workforce. I'm still trying to find the balance between life and work. I used to tell others that work is life and we will only disappoint ourselves if we try to see it as two separate things. But lately, I find myself struggling to see life and work as one. I find myself struggling to find time to sit and pour my thoughts out - be it through my blog, through smses, FB messages or whatsapp messages. How I missed the days of MSN Messenger when I could chat people up to rant and stuffs. </div>
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I guess 25 is the year I kinda lost myself as I tried to establish myself. Who am I? What do I wanna be? Who do I wanna be like? Where do I see myself in 5 years, 10 years, 30 years down the road? May my 26th year be the year in which I find and define myself. May Allah guide me and send individuals to help me find my way through this temporal life.</div>
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And to those who still visit this dusty blog of mine, smile always. May you always be in the best of health. (:</div>
marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-34613886734775981772013-08-11T23:34:00.000+08:002013-10-27T22:08:14.474+08:00Thoughts and ReflectionsReintrospection: Thoughts and Reflections <br />
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I can't quite recall when I renamed the blog as such. But it has definitely been a while. I've been told many times that I think too much. I overthink. I think too far. I think too deep. I've been reminded that while thinking is good, I should not overdo it. I should keep things simple. Today, my aunt told me that. The fact that she could "analyze" me despite not spending much time with me speaks a lot about my over thinking. The thinking shall be restricted to the online world and should not be made too obvious in the real world. <br />
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We were talking about when I'll find my jodoh when I started to gave a list of excuses with weak supporting explanations. Dear me, please keep replies to one or two lines. Else u may come across as being too defensive, or one who thinks and overread too much.marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-4482700061048873662013-08-07T12:52:00.001+08:002013-08-07T12:52:33.910+08:00Chasing RamadhanChasing Ramadhan was what I did on the 28th and 29th night of Ramadhan in an attempt to make up for the past days that were lost due to worldly matters. But then again, it would be unfair to blame it on worldly matters when the problem actually lies within me. For I've been too passive. I've been thinking but never putting plans to action. <br />
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Took leave 2 days before Eid. A quick text to a brother for qiyam. He had plans. Another text to another brother. Soon I found myself at Masjid Sultan. I had planned to qiyam on all 10 nights but only found myself on the last 9th night. Went to an organisation in Eunos and another in Pasir Ris to help Mama pay her zakat harta coz that's where she wanted her money to go to. Took a long bus ride to grandma's place to just be by her side and bore her with my "melodious" recitation voice. Sigh, if there's one thing I envy this Ramadhan, it's the voices of the imams and muezzins and their ability to memorise surahs. I've been rotating between Ar-Rahman and Surah Mulk for the past couple of years. I forget one after the other. <br />
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Organised a random buka at Mak Long's with a cousin. It's been a long while since I saw them both. Caught up with the cousin who shared about his marriage plans and how he met the girl and the difficulties they've discussed about -like what if he had to leave for overseas for work. Never saw my cousin as one who is forward thinking but I guess he's one who dares to commit and make things work out instead of sitting back and thinking without making any moves or commitment fearing the potential disagreements that may or may not arise. *wake up, marzuki*<br />
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Persuaded him to follow me to Masjid Ahmad Ibrahim for the last night. He agreed and shared how he's been doing qiyam at home the past 2 weeks without fail except the 27th coz he slept right through. I felt worst. My cousin did more qiyam than me. *quit judging, marzuki*<br />
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It was a good quiet night. It drizzled thru the night. The mind was pointing to signs of lailatulqadr, but having been slacking for the most of Ramadhan, a part of me didn't feel deserving of it. Slept. woke up an hour later. Prayed and made long duas. Read the quran. Made zikr. And more last minute dua till the azan for fajr was called. Could somehow hear ssomeone announced "Pens down. Please stop writing." The last night. The final chase. May He understand that I am weak and gives me an opportunity to learn from my weakness the next Ramadhan. <br />
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Woke up at 11am. Nice to wake up within the walls of a mosque. Reminded of the nights in masjidil haram and the awkward moments when you realize that the once empty space around you are filled with people who arrived for fajr prayers. <br />
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A verse caught my eye. A pick-up line pops up in my mind:<br />
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"Assalamualaikum. In surah Al-Hujuraat verse 13, it was mentioned we were made into nations and tribes so that we may know one another. So when I first saw you queuing for the food during sahur tadi, I was hoping that you would allow me to know you."<br />
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Too wordy. Perhaps next time, I could write it on a piece of paper and ask a brother to help me pass to her during sahur. Too cowardly. Perhaps next time.. <br /><br />Eid Mubarak! <br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-59928081695772444502013-07-27T00:09:00.000+08:002013-07-27T00:19:11.525+08:00I try my best to understand. To speak to them only when required coz for some reason them being older makes them too cool for small talks. I tried my best not to offend. To respect. But I guess something mustve gone wrong somewhere and I reached a point where I realize that perhaps it's not going to work. I've been pretending and lying to myself thinking that I've got it in me to wear my dad's shoes. <br />
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Lost my cool. Raised my voice. Broke my heart. I hate people who break hearts.<br />
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Probably the reason why I'm not into marriage mode despite it being encouraged and despite me being envious of parents with children at the mosque for terawih prayers is because of the fear that someday, my kids would grow up hurting me and my wife's feelings like how I'm feeling right now. <br />
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Fear prevents me from doing things. Lots of things. <br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-10881953220499584582013-07-08T01:56:00.003+08:002013-07-08T01:56:47.271+08:00Saying hello<i>Just say hello. </i><br />
<i>Ask for direction to Subway.</i><br />
<i>Ask for recommendation to nice food outlets. </i><br />
<i>Say something.</i><br />
<i>Say anything.</i><br />
<i>Okay I know. Say that you're from a charitable organization in Singapore and that you're wondering if she could donate her handphone number to you.</i><br />
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Publika @ Mont Kiara.<br />
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We were just walking around when we saw a girl in purple hijab looking at books at MPH. The next thing I know, my two travel companions were pushing me to step out of my comfort zone and say something to her.<br />
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<i>We're not asking you to marry her.</i><br />
<i>All we're asking is for you to say hello. Anything. Something.</i><br />
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I didnt, of course. And we went on exploring the mall.<br />
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<i>Guys, I'll say something if we meet her again for the second time.</i><br />
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30 minutes later, we found ourselves at MPH again. She was there sitting on the bench outside the bookstore with a book in hand, reading. There's something lovely about girls with books that I can't quite explain.Kinda like how it's always lovely to cross path with the girl on the morning train to work. There's always a quran in her hand. But I digress.<br />
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She sat there for around 30 minutes. And so were we, nearby and from a safe distance. And it stayed that way much to the chagrin of my two friends who believed that I could find muster up the courage to walk up to someone and say hello.<br />
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<i>Why should I say hello to someone whom I know I'll probably never ever meet again?</i><br />
<i>Isn't it kinda pointless?</i><br />
<i>Am I really afraid of making a fool of myself?</i><br />
<i>What am I really afraid of?</i><br />
<i>Will I ever do what needs to be done should the day comes?</i><br />
<i>Perhaps I'll wait till next time. Perhaps she isn't the one. </i><br />
<i>If we're meant to be, we're meant to be.</i><br />
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<i>Cmon Ali!</i><br />
<i>Say something. Walk up to her. Ask anything.</i><br />
<i>Say something funny. Girls like guys who are funny. </i><br />
<i>Ask her if she's had her dinner and if she'd like to join us.</i><br />
<i>Heck if you want, we could be invisible and let you have dinner with her.</i><br />
<i>Do it for Allah! Even if you don't want to, then at least do it for us.</i><br />
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Guess nothing much have changed.<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-15432370439164522942013-07-04T12:59:00.001+08:002013-07-08T02:13:51.247+08:00On a short breakIt's been a long long while since I sat and write. Writing helps one to keep in touch with our inner self. It's like making time for the self - something which I've not done, clearly.<br />
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Hopefully this short retreat in urban KL allows me to just take the mind of work. And hopefully think about what's next.<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-45581483424541492582013-05-12T12:23:00.000+08:002013-07-08T02:11:21.895+08:003 hours with a child<img height="400" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-d-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/946499_10151676253612704_1033639790_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
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It was around 8 pm when the next door neighbour knocked on our door to drop off his son. The father had to leave for work while the mom will only reach home at around 11.30pm. Apparently this babysitting arrangement started this week while I was away in camp.<br />
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The kid was probably in K1. He came with a bag stuffed with a writing book, two storybooks and some toys. My twin brothers aren't exactly fans of kids - one went into hiding in mom's room and later fell asleep, the other hiding behind his phone. My mum had to alter some pants for the neighbour upstairs and left me to entertain the kid.<br />
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We read a book.<br />
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He spelled the words. He could spell pretty well. Couldn't read though.<i> "Around the house, the fox chased the mouse..," </i>I read. He repeated after me.<br />
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<i>"Show me the house." </i>He pointed the house to me. <i>"House dalam bahasa Melayu apa?" </i>I asked.<br />
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<i>"House dalam bahasa Melayu.... rumah!" </i>He replied.<br />
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<i>"Around tu apa Sheldon? What is the meaning of around?" </i><br />
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<i>"Around tu...."</i><br />
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I took a biscuit container and told him to imagine it to be the house. I then took a car and a fire engine and told him to imagine it to be the mouse and fox respectively. And then the fox chased the mouse around the house.<br />
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<i>"Chase dalam bahasa Melayu apa Sheldon?"</i><br />
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<i>"Chase dalam bahasa Melayu kejar-kejar."</i><br />
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I then pointed to the tree on the page and asked him what that is. "Tree," he said.<br />
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<i>"Tree dalam bahasa Melayu tu apa?"</i><br />
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<i>"Tree dalam bahasa Melayu tu pokok."</i><br />
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<i>"Bird dalam bahasa Melayu tu ........ burung."</i><br />
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<i>"Sheep dalam bahasa Melayu tu ....."</i><br />
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<i>"Kambing," </i>I prompted.<br />
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<i>"Spider dalam bahasa Melayu tu ......"</i><br />
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<i>"Labah-labah," </i>I prompted.<br />
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He then pointed to the spiderweb and asked what spiderweb is in Malay.<br />
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I replied, <i>"Spider web dalam bahasa Melayu tu .....Spider web dalam bahasa Melayu tu .... entah eh! Abang pon tak tau."</i><br />
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It went on until the last page. I don't remember reading a book to a small kid before. Should I have kids some day, I wonder if i have the time or the patience to read a book to them<i> - </i>to teach them how to spell, read, write and recite, and translate. <i>Would I have time to show them around?</i> - to show them the field and explain to them what the field is, what the field is in malay, the many creatures that can be found in the field. <i>Would they be interested? Would they be inquisitive? Would they be close to me if I spend most of my days at work?</i><br />
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<i>Gosh! I still think too much!</i><br />
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Later I asked him to recite the English alphabet followed by numbers. Not bad. I then asked him if he knew "Aleef, Baa, Taa". He gave a blank face.<br />
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I went to Google Play Store and searched for arabic alphabets for kids. I pointed at the first letter and asked,<br />
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"Sheldon tau ni huruf apa?"<br />
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And when I concluded that he has never been taught the arabic alphabets, I went through it with him. It's amazing the apps that can be found in the store. One touch on the letter in the screen and one could hear the letter being pronounced. He touched, listened and repeated after the voice. He swiped to the next letter, touched, listened and repeated after the voice. I then wrote the first four letters of the Arabic alphabets and instructed him to write lines.<br />
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<i>"Write from left to right," </i>I reminded him each time he wrote huruf baa, taa, saa from right to left.<br />
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We then watched Youtube videos of kids reciting Surah Al-Faatihah. I recited a verse in parts and he repeated after me. Secretly I was jealous of the voice some of the kids had in the videos.<br />
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Soon it was 1130pm. His mom came to pick him up. Finally some rest, peace and quiet. Not long after, I fell asleep in the living room.<br />
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It was kinda tiring entertaining the kid from next door as he waited for his parent to come back home from work. I tried to make him tired by making him spell, read, write and recite but the kid had too much energy. I even tried to make him sleep by tucking him in on the sofa bed in the living room and pretended to fall asleep. Nothing seemed to work. The kid seemed to want attention. When he doesnt gets any, he would quietly play with his toys or just walk around aimlessly like a lost child.<br />
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I then remembered the amount of endless attention I received from my aunt, my grandma, my parents. I then realized that even up till today, I crave for their attention. For some reason, during the duration of his stay, I tried my best to keep him engaged. For personally, I know the effects that attention and love may have on a child.marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-2095109925264252762013-05-05T03:48:00.002+08:002013-05-05T03:48:40.608+08:00When reservist and weddings collideToday's technically Day 3 of 16 of my annual reservist. It's been such a wonderful break from work and I've never felt more relaxed and refreshed. It's nice to be able to meet individuals whom you only meet once a year yet they still feel dear to me. 3 of my camp buddies recently got married, 1 is getting married at the end of this year, another getting engaged this year and getting married next year. I lost count. At this rate, the remaining 6 in-camp-training over the next 6 years will be like going to a Malay wedding and people will take time to catch up with you and ask the question,<br />
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"Bro, so when are you getting married?" or ...<br />
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"Bro, so when's your engagement?" or ...<br />
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"Bro, are you seeing anyone at the moment? A girlfriend perhaps?" or ...<br />
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"Bro, seriously, still not seeing anyone? Let me know if you need my help."<br />
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I don't know which is worse - the makciks at weddings or fellow soldiers in camp! haha. I guess any pressure is good pressure - not that I need any, I think. And as I lay in my bunk bed staring at the big blue sky, I wonder a never ending wonder.<br />
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Ah, when reservist and weddings talks collide. I've been warned.<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-12893602214310802022013-04-17T20:40:00.001+08:002013-04-17T20:40:17.825+08:00Writing in the officeIt's been a while since I last wrote. I've allowed work to consume me during the weeks leading to the launch of the showflat. And just when I thought I'll be able to take my foot of the gas pedal, more and more work just keeps coming. Well it only means that I'm still of use to the company (positive thinking in progress).<br />
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Now I'm thinking and can't seem to think of anything worthy of writing ...</div>
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I would usually just click "close" and let this post rot away in Drafts. But I shall be different tonight and post this short crappy entry. Hopefully it'll force me to think about writing about something nicer asap.</div>
marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-90540000367843936412013-03-29T09:19:00.004+08:002013-03-29T09:19:51.263+08:00RelationshipsThis past week has taught me that work isn't the main story of my life - even though it occupies a significant portion of my time.<br />
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Relationships, however, is.<br />
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The way I interact with my colleagues, bosses, sub-contractors and workers are more important than the work I actually do. I realized that without all the smiles and good mornings and assalamualaikum from those on site, work would be quite a drag. This week, I saw an experienced foreman of one of my sub-contractors leaving just after lunch because of some things that were said earlier in the day. He handed over his work permit via his friend the next day. "Speak good, or be silent" is always a good advice to keep in mind but the pressure on site makes it harder for some to be nice. They say that nice guys don't get things done on site, like how they always say that nice guys finish last. But I hope to prove both statements wrong.<br />
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<i>Work supports the main story of my life - family...</i><br />
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I realized that working 6 days a week in pursuit of experience, good salary and hopefully better future prospects should not be the main story of my youth. This pursuit, however, links directly to my main story - family ie. supporting the family, trying to become someone my siblings look up to and making my mum happy. Although at the moment, my mum isn't too happy that I'm working too hard. I explained to her that in construction, there are months where one needs to work extra hard and there are months that are less intense. This month just happened to be an intense month. But I digress. Having a good relationship at home allows one to put aside work stress and life sorrows and just be a child.<br />
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<i>And then there's stories of me with my friends... </i><br />
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Encouragement, motivations and words of advice have always been through friends I've gotten to know. However quite frankly, I haven't been good with treasuring and sustaining friendships yet my friends have always been so kind to me. Alhamdulillah. May I improve my relationships with my friends simply because they're part of my becoming someone better.<br />
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<i>And then there's the story of the one friend that becomes family...</i><br />
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My friends will get married. My siblings will eventually grow older and get married. My mum would someday say that she'll be happier to see her kids get married. I realized that I too would - so that the stories of family and friends becomes central. But this story seems the hardest to write...<br />
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... and I realized that it's probably because for this particular story, it takes two to write.<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-9905372969397535572013-03-22T06:51:00.000+08:002013-03-22T06:54:03.463+08:00Between 2 hearts<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: #fffff2; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">"And among His Signs is this, that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that ye may dwell in tranquility with them, and He has put love and mercy between your (hearts): verily in that are Signs for those who reflect."</span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #fffff2; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fffff2; line-height: 24px;">Surah Ar-Rum, 30:21</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: #fffff2; line-height: 24px;">I may have read the above verse several times when I was younger during weekly Quran sessions. But I first learnt about the meaning of the above during a lecture in NTU with the theme being love and all. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fffff2; line-height: 24px;">And it made me wonder then how the above could actually transpire. Will the love and mercy between hearts be before or after someone makes the move? </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #fffff2; line-height: 24px;">Ah. "The move". Of all the "moves" that Ive heard of through word of mouth, I seem to fancy how my late dad made his move. It seems that a friend of my mom left my mom's number in my dad's van - hoping that he'll see the number and call my mom. He did. 2 years later.</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.99305534362793px;">Jodoh tak kan ke mana, mama would always say.</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.99305534362793px;">Perhaps as days go by, the more I say I'm not ready, the more I'm closer to saying I'm somewhat ready. Perhaps, having another person in your life might aid you in becoming the better person you want to be.</span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 23.99305534362793px;">Perhaps.</span></span>marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-59508386282142419262013-03-16T00:37:00.001+08:002013-03-16T00:43:44.928+08:00Life is a storyLife works in mysterious ways.<br />
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I've been writing little snippets about my life, my thoughts, my fears and my dream on this little space of mine. Quietly almost every other night, I would let my mind wander and write little stories to myself (and my future little children) as a little reminder about the things I think about as I live my life.</div>
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This past couple of weeks saw me reading a little bit about myself in the papers. It started with a mention by the Deputy Prime Minister in the concluding portion of his Budget 2013 in Parliament:</div>
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"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.3em;">But our policies will ultimately succeed by building on the strengths of Singaporeans - the skills and mastery in every job, the compassion, the sense of collective responsibility, and the belief in this country. Singaporeans who are in their own ways, building a better tomorrow for themselves, their families, and for Singapore.</span></div>
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Like Ali Marzuki Abdul Rani, whose father passed away when he was 18. He was determined to succeed and support his younger siblings, got bursary support to see him through his studies at NTU, and is now doing well as a project engineer and giving back to society.</div>
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Or Madam Yeo Hui Imm, 58. A former factory operator, she found a job in a café, and decided to go for English lessons so that she could play a bigger role in her workplace. She is now a team leader, with more responsibilities and pay.</div>
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And Alfred Yeo, a young accountant, hearing- and speech-impaired. He is a tireless source of feedback on public transport and cycling paths, using emails, photos and even videos that he takes himself.</div>
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They each tell us something about our strengths, and about why we will have a better Singapore ahead."</div>
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The Straits Times and Berita Harian called and asked some questions that night as a follow up. A couple of days later, Berita Harian said that they wanted to ask me more questions. My little story appeared the following week on the front page. My relatives were telling me how proud they are and how happy they are for me and my family. Friends too. My niece even shared how her Malay teacher told her class about me being a good example to follow. (I can't help but secretly wonder how many students in Singapore used that article for their weekly Keratan Akhbar assignment.) Funny how the media makes something ordinary seems extraordinary. </div>
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Still, my mum seemed the happiest and if she's happy, I'm happy.</div>
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Funny how life is like a story that might just end up in the papers due to some series of events. </div>
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It's been a month since I last wrote. Besides the brief publicity on the papers, something else more worthy of mention happened:</div>
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It seems that Mama has kinda given the green light. Never in the past would she entertain talks about relationships or marriage. I asked her if she has set any target for me to get married. No, she said. I jokingly replied that I'm a little too used to life on my own that I'll find it awkward and weird to be with someone. Oddly enough, ever since she kinda gave the green light, I've been giving it a second thought. </div>
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And a third. And a forth. And I continue to wonder if I'll ever be ready to embark on that next phase of life. </div>
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marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7877473564197200535.post-79655566784339548812013-02-10T00:31:00.001+08:002013-02-10T00:31:31.324+08:00The Annoying Idealistic Optimistic IntrovertHe is terribly annoying. Always tries to see the positive side of things no matter how negative it may be. Always hoping that the best will happen even though he knows that most of the time, things will turn out differently. He keeps to himself, sharing only selected thoughts out of the endless train of thoughts running through his mind. He cant quite explain why he does the things he does mainly because he himself doesnt quite know why he does what he does.<br />
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He is annoying. And weird. As much as he wants people to understand him, he knows its hard. Perhaps he just wants people to be supportive of his being who he is - this weird annoying idealistic optimistic introvert. And let him be just that.<br />
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<br />marzukihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05992749943748434474noreply@blogger.com2