Run Boy, Run...

Life is like a roller coaster. He's afraid of roller coasters and all its vicious twists and turns.

After a long day of project discussion, his brain was fried. Fried like eggs that was left on the stove too long coz while cooking, a telemarketer called and went on and on about products he knew no one will buy and when he noticed that awful smokey smell, he knows it's too late. He knows that the eggs have been fried beyond recognition and that there's nothing he can do.

"Stress. I feel like driving a car into a wall."

He clicked "Send SMS" after having double checked the number of his receiver. He waits patiently for a reply as a thousand thoughts ran through his mind.


*******

He got home to an empty house. He hates empty houses.

He washed up. Prayed. Read the Quran.

Dear God, please give me the strength to carry on. I feel so weak. I'm losing the plot. Help me. Please.

If only there was a reply.

An hour later, the siblings came home with Mother right behind them.

"Ma, the meeting was long. I feel so tired. Why is it so hard? I thank God for the strength he's given me for if I wasn't strong, I would've done silly things. Why?"

She looked at him in disgust. He saw it coming. Mama hates it whenever he talks about giving up to the point where it sounds as though he's at world's end and will take that final leap off to nowhere. But Pablo just needed to see that look of disgust to know that Mama's paying attention. He felt her concern. She was all ears.

"This is getting tiring. 2 more years. I need to hold on for 2 more years Ma. It's hard."

"Then why is it that your other friends are doing well?"

"I don't know lah Ma. I've been thinking. When a Muslim is stressed, he prays. He reads the Quran. He asks for help and guidance. When a non-Muslim is stressed, they do not pray to God. They try harder. But why do they always end up doing so well? I just don't understand. Is this God's way of testing my patience and willpower to carry on? If it is, I don't think I can go on lah Ma. It's hard."

He knew better than to ask questions no one can answer. But he just needed to ask them out loud.

"Pray. And tell Him that the pressure's too much for you to handle. Ask him to lighten the pressure a little. Perform Tahajjud in the late hours of the night. Insyaallah, things will be better."

"Mama, the Tahajjud's the hardest to perform. I can hardly wake up for Fajr. And besides, if this is too much for me, what about the suffering of Nabi Ayub? He suffered more but he didn't complain. And Ma, I also do not know why I am complaining. It's hard lah Ma." Pablo sighed.

"Just try."

He smiled. Everything's out on the table. Mama knows her son's upset and loosing his composure. She has done her part to get him back up on his feet. Now it's all up to him.

Dear God, please give me the strength to carry on. I feel so weak. I'm losing the plot. Help me. Please.

This time round, he doesn't need a reply.

Life is like a roller coaster. You can be happy some weeks, and depressed on others. What's important is that you have people around you who are there when you need them the most. It's hard to find friends who listen. And even when you do find them, it's useful to remember that no one likes to listen to pathetic and miserable stories.

This is the reason why I keep on writing. If you do not want to keep things bottled up, you let it all out .... on a blog, through stories. And you don't just run, boy. You got to stay and keep on fighting.