Twenty Five. Twenty Six.

بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَنِ الرَّحِيم

Firstly, alhamdulillah  for being given the opportunity to turn 26 on the 2nd of October. 

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.

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. 

On no soul doth Allah Place a burden greater than it can bear – [Quran 2:286]

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.” (Sahih Bukhari Vol. 7, Book 70, #545)

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. 

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.

And to those who still visit this dusty blog of mine, smile always. May you always be in the best of health. (:

Life is a story

Life works in mysterious ways.

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.

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:

"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.

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.

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.

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.

They each tell us something about our strengths, and about why we will have a better Singapore ahead."

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. 

Still, my mum seemed the happiest and if she's happy, I'm happy.

Funny how life is like a story that might just end up in the papers due to some series of events. 

It's been a month since I last wrote. Besides the brief publicity on the papers, something else more worthy of mention happened:

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. 

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. 

The Annoying Idealistic Optimistic Introvert

He 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.

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.

Every action has an unequal and opposite reaction.

Sometimes, it's easier (and probably encouraged) to be silent than to speak your mind coz you'll never know when your words might hurt or offend. So thoughts usually remain as thoughts until I can mentally arrange them into careful words. But sometimes, just sometimes, I like to experiment by speaking my thoughts out loud just to get some immediate feedback. People say Im too reflective.

One day, I shall find a quiet corner and write a page or two or three about why I'm such a reflective person.

Life's Memorable Moment

Saturday mornings spent mentoring young kids at the nearby madrasah are time well spent, alhamdulillah.

The kids are cute, adorable and their personal stories are just so priceless and heartwarming. Talking to the kids as and when I have the chance always opens up an untapped section of the heart which in turn sets the brain into producing endless train of thoughts. The floodgate of emotions opens and for some reason, I feel emotional.

Abang, where do you stay?

I stay in Sembawang. Why do you ask?

How did you get here? MRT and bus?

Yes.

Then why were you late? I stay in Tampines and reached here at 7. I wake up early, pray subuh cepat-cepat, run to the nearest bus stop to catch the 6:02am bus. And then midway, I'll change to another bus at 6:24am and reach the school at 7am.

His story on punctuality and how much effort he puts in to be punctual or early for class was a reminder for me and the amount of effort I put in for the stuffs I participate in. Granted 735am is not too late considering that we're supposed to reach at 730am, but still... Also, I watched somewhere in a movie that one of the ways for teachers/mentors to build bonds with the kids is by getting them to teach you something in return. They teach, I teach, we learn from each other. They'll be teaching me some Arabic phrases.

At the end of the day, I had the opportunity to spend 20mins on a journal writing activity. Having thought of a million and one topics that I could do with the kids, I chose the title: "I remember... Life's Memorable Moments." What happened during that 20mins will definitely be one of my Life's Memorable Moments. A story to be shared in another entry perhaps.

It's puzzling how I feel more attached to these kids than to siblings of my own. My siblings were once like the kids at the madrasah, but as they grow older, they become bolder and prefers their own space. Perhaps being the eldest, I do not know how it feels to be disturbed or loved (irritatingly) by someone older than me. Anyways...

.. however puzzling I may feel, I pray that I'll be a good son to my mother, a good brother to my siblings, a good mentor to my kids, and a good friend to my friends.

A Good Friend

A good friend is someone whom you argue over the littlest things in the lab and then over dinner, he asks you about your love life. Life's beautiful like that.

Seeking Comfort

I find comfort at home, among my mother and sister and brothers. But when they're out working or are on a holiday, I find myself looking for something to latch on to so as to remain comfortable. That's when I write.

The Past 10 Days

30th Nov, Wednesday:
It's 246am as I scribble this few words. I just watched Harry Potter 7 Part 2. Awesome.

29th Nov, Tuesday:
Bored at home, I went to school. To the lab and did some work for my final year project.

28th Nov, Monday:
I took my Final Theory Test. Hope to get my driving license by the time i start work.

27th Nov, Sunday:
Soccer in the morning. Visited grandma in the afternoon.

26th Nov, Saturday:
Stayed at home. United drew Newcastle. They're starting to annoy me.

25th Nov, Friday:
Solidwaste Management paper ends. Exams end!

24th Nov, Thursday:
Engineers and Society paper ends. A friend met with a road accident on his way to the paper. Alhamdulillah, he was alright.

23rd Nov, Wednesday:
Spent the day studying.

22nd Nov, Tuesday:
Traffic Engineering paper ends. Tough one. I hope I did enough.

21st Nov, Monday:
An hour before my first paper begin, I received an sms from my sister saying that she was on her way to Nyai's house from work. It was probably noon. Something didnt feel right so I switched my phone off. And sat for my exam.

At 4pm, I asked her what's wrong. And she said that our grandmother had been sleeping since morning and have not woken up. Everyone in the family was there. I prayed for the best. The doctor came. I reached just in time to follow her in the ambulance. Soon after, she was admitted. She was admitted for a couple of days. Now's she's fine, alhamdulillah.

Life. The past 10 days.

Privately Sociable

Trying out the new Blogger blogging interface. The layout makes me feels as though I'm writing an essay on Microsoft Word. Having been writing reports for assignments and scripts for presentations, blogging on this interface is giving me mixed feeling. I'm so gonna send Blogger a feedback.

There was a BBQ held in school a couple days back. Someone asked me if I'm going.

"No," I replied.

"Why?"

"I don't quite like social events."

"So you're anti-social?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just .... a private person."

"So you're conservative."

"Well, no ... I .. I'm just private."

And then I think about the things I write and share on this blog of mine and said to myself, "yeah right. A private person. A private person who spills his buckets of paints of thoughts on his white canvas of a blog like nobody's business. And I've been at it since three + two + two years equals to 7 years ago and it's still as fun and when I first began writing!"

Yeah I'm private alright. Openly private. Secretly sociable.

Listen.

I get angry when others are angry at me. I get angry coz I dun understand why they get so angry so easily and why they need to get angry. And when you shout, I shout louder, to be heard, and then it becomes a shouting match. As if anger solves anything. Anger never solves anything. Women. (Read: Some women.)

And it doesn't help that I'm not the kind to give in when I know the fault's clearly not mine.

Friday, already

Time flies. Whatever happened to the dreamy thinker who used to pen every other thoughts down almost every other day.

Final year project has been very interesting and fun. And the best part about it is my partner is the guy whom I first made friends with when I was in my first year of university.

I remember sitting in Effective Communications class - the first tutorial I had. I didnt know anyone in class. And then a couple of minutes after class started, a guy came in and sat next to me. We talked. Who knew 4 years on, we'll be doing our final project together.

Fate. All it takes is the right person, at the right place. A smile and a "Hi, what's your name? I'm Ali. I don't know anyone here. Nice to meet you."

Anyways, my point is... it's Friday, already. Like how it's my final year, finally. Like how I'm turning 24 in a couple of days time, really.

Time flies. So tell me, where do you see yourself in four years time?

Facades

I left a family gathering early. "Meeting some friends," said I. "You've got friends? I've always thought it's just you and your books."

In their eyes, I'm an anti-social mugger. In my friends' eyes, I'm the guy who's able to lead someone to the doorstep of heaven. And that I'd make a strict father. And that teaching might be a challenge given my gentle nature. And that I'm sarcastic and rude. And that I'm a good brother. And that I'm not an understanding person.

Some have told me I'm very focus and task oriented. Others said I'm too rigid and serious and should learn to relax. My sister said once that I'm not independent. I replied, I'm very very independent. Some have said that I'm a fussy eater. Others have said I'm just being selective. And there's the occasional "weird + loner" reference.

I'm too extroverted. I'm also too introverted. I talk alot. I talk too litte. Why so serious, they ask. I'm charming. Also an idiot.

And then I look at myself in the figurative mirror and wonder if someone can see through all my facades and tell me who I am. I think I need a shrink.

Haters gonna hate

I hate it when mama compares me with someone smarter than me. But it's okay when that someone(or someones) are my younger brothers. Pfft, back when we were younger, I used to be their benchmark.

I hate it when mama washes my bantal busuk. I get angry. But then she makes me a cup of hot milo. Mothers have their way of doing things. She could wash my pillow a thousand times over and I wouldn't get angry... until she decides to pick on me and my pillow again.

I hate it when I sit on the train and the guy next to me wreaks of alcohol. I get angry and irritated. I'll get up and walk away. It puzzles me why rage consumes me whenever it happens. Yes, rage. Try me.

I hate it when I order Double Cheeseburger without cheese and the burger comes to me WITH cheese EVEN THOUGH they stuck the "Special Order" sticker on the wrapping. But it's okay coz the cashier recognizes me now and knows what I want.

I hate it when people fill up their fries bag with those Cheese shaker powder thingy right in front of my face KNOWING that I so do not luurrve the smell of it. But it's okay, they're just testing my patience.

I have a habit of ...

... writing, editing and deleting whatever Ive written when it's time to press the "Publish Post" button or the "Create Post" button or the "Ask" button or the "Enter" button. Cause before sharing whatever I have in mind, I'll think about the posts' objectives and possible repercussions. This is an extension of who I am in person. Funny, coz I used to think that in the online world, I can be someone a little different.

I am ...

... legend.

It's been close to 5 years since I last walked to my Quranic class with my brothers. Few remained. One said the legend is back. I was brought back to the time when I used to be one of the few who've read the most number of pages. The rare few who could answer the Ustaz whenever he asks questions relating to Tajwid. Six years on, I could still answer most of them. On the other hand, my brothers and the others whacked whatever answers they could think of. I smiled. Some things never changed. A legend I am, I thought to myself. Alhamdulillah, I could still remember the things I've learnt back then.

Sometimes I wish I could say the same about the things I've learnt in Civil Engineering. Perhaps one day. Perhaps not. But until then, I will keep striving - for both.

I feel stupid ...

.. when I think about the things I think about. It confuses, frustrates and annoys me sometimes when the brain takes a trip down Reason Boulevard.

Q: Why do I think alot?
A: Because for someone like me, thinking is like talking to a friend. However, in this case, you're talking to yourself, quietly, in your mind. All because you prefer to be by yourself than with someone else.

Q: Why do you prefer to be with yourself?
A: I don't know. Genetics?

Q: It's easy to blame it on Genetics. What if it's not a genome thing?
A: I don't know. Perhaps it's written. Fate. Destined.

Q: Can you stop thinking - too much?
A: I can try. But when I do get all spontaneous, I make mistakes. I make a fool of myself. That, I do not want.

Q: Are you a Perfectionist?
A: I'm not. But I try to be as perfect as I can knowing all my imperfections.

Q: Why do you want to be "perfect"?
A: I don't know. Shouldn't we all strive to achieve perfection?

The Wedding

Mdm H says I'm her favourite! And a good boy. Mdm B also said I'm a good boy. Hearing such kind words about myself being said to my mother is, weird. I feel so happy like a happy seven year old kid!

But, really, I'm only "a good boy" because He conceals my ugly.

Blast from the Past #3

Pokemon - Gotta catch em all! Until they added more and more Pocket monsters into the picture. The brain could only remember 151 names.

One word: Weird. Why am I not surprised that 10 years on, people still call me weird. Am I really that ... weird?

I guess 10 years ago, I was pretty much Mama's boy. When I chose to play soccer after school at the nearby basketball court, I made sure I left by 3pm. I made sure my uniform isnt too wet. I made sure I didnt overuse the "I had NCC meeting" excuse.

And I believe no one would have imagined me and Shris playing soccer on a weekly basis at the centre of midfield when we're 24.

Sigh a happy sigh. Those were the days. (:

Hand Writing Analysis: What do you think?

Hmmmmm ....

Thoughts

Sometimes,
little events,
little little things that people say,
jokingly or not,
mostly jokingly,
but you know I feel about jokingly,
that it often always mean seriously subconsciously,
blurted out unknowingly,
but obviously,
to me.

Most time,
I'm wrong. But who cares?
No one does, coz if they do,
wouldn't they have watched what they say,
or do?

Yeah,
these little things,
make me retreat into my dark little cave and hide for days, weeks;
Sighs,
7 days of not writing usually means,
no thoughts, lots of thoughts,
kept all to myself.

Things are all fine,
and happy,
and dandy,
but for how long,
can one hide behind a facade,
behind one mask,
after another mask,
after another mask,
you get the idea.

Be calm,
prayers,
give good advice,
a pure mind,
a pure heart,
but then we fall,
and hide in our caves,
ashamed,
because we find it so hard to be good,
because we question ourselves,
by asking questions like why try so hard to avoid music,
when many others are not,
coz afterall, there's nothing wrong,
right?

Frankly,
I don't know,
for music, I,
just hate it when it gets stuck in the head,
hate how it distracts me,
how not listening to music for a fair while suddenly,
made me click on one link after another,
and another,
like as though,
I'm in total control,
I'm free,
to do as I please,
but really I'm not,
coz I consistently think about the can, cannot, better not to,
and so on.

And how I miss conversations,
and talking,
and how I fear talking,
all because of the little things,
the little little things that people always say,
or do,
without,
thinking about how,
the other person might feel,
or do,
as a result of what they say,
or do.

I really do.

Thoughts,
they get pretty circular sometimes,
most times in fact,
and when they do,
that's when I know,
I'm ending.