• April 2, 2016

I love the way he ask me "Alright?" after he lectured me about something.

"You know you're better than all this mess
Chin up, alright?"

"Don't cry anymore
You'll be fine, alright?"

"Hey, listen to me, I'm not going anywhere
I love you, alright?"


Like Pearls on a Broken String

  • February 26, 2016

There was heavy uncomfortable silence in the room. Offering condolences is never easy. I sat quietly with my gaze fixed on the carpet motif. In front of me was the mother of the deceased – a 26 years old only son. She was a woman who is memorizing the Quran & had so far preserved 1/3 of the Book in her heart. I wanted (& hoped) to see the impact of this Quran in her response to her loss. And, as expected, mashaAllah, she was a picture of composure & patience.

I couldn't offer any solace. No words seemed suitable enough to encompass the magnitude of her loss or the gravity of her pain. I imagined what she must be going through & tears trickled down my cheeks. I tried to wipe them discreetly but, perhaps, was unsuccessful. She passed me the tissue box on the table. No, this isn't right! I'm supposed to comfort her. Not the other way round. I disliked the fact that I had no control over my emotions. Had to do something to stop the tears. I took a deep breath and forced my mind to think of something different and totally unrelated. I wondered at the traffic noise that was occasionally filtering in through the open balcony. Alhamdullilah, I found poise again.

She mentioned about the righteousness of her son. She described how happy he was with his newly-married status, his prestigious job as a pilot of the international airlines, his various humanitarian projects… He seemed to be the golden boy of their large extended family. He was loved by all. Yet, at the peak of his health & life, he died suddenly of a heart attack. She reminded us, and herself of how we are constantly making long elaborate plans and how, Allah is making different plans for us. HIS plans prevail.

On my drive back that night, death, naturally, was on my mind. Yes, we know we’ll die one day, but we really don’t think of ‘that day’ being anywhere around the corner. ‘We aren’t old yet,’ whispers the soul to fool us. But when we witness the passing away of a person our age (or younger), that foolish supposition gets a good earth-shaking jolt.

 * * * * * * * *

The first time this realization hit me was at the news of the death of a class-mate, four years after leaving high school. Later that year, we had a class reunion party at someone’s place. The excited girls had so much to share & inform each other, to fill the gaps of the years since we all parted. There were gay announcements of someone’s engagement; another was eagerly planning her grand wedding; some boasted of career and promotions; one shared the pain of a miscarriage and others looked forward to starting their medical practice soon. We talked of how many of us made it to that party. The others were missed because they were now based in other countries.

Then, all of a sudden, someone mentioned her. A painful silence enveloped the room. A while later, someone broke the silence by narrating the good times she spent with her in class. But, suddenly, for the first time in our lives, we had all become acutely aware of our mortality. She was one of us. She was like us. She spent the countless days in school with us, experiencing the same moments of work and play as we did. Yet, she was in a different realm now. ‘She could have been me,’ was the thought that probably passed in each one’s mind. After all, a healthy, lean 21 years old girl is not expected to die suddenly of heart failure.

We learned from her close friend that after leaving school she had enrolled for an Islamic studies course along with her medical school. Allah guided her at a time when most of us – her classmates – were heedless. She underwent a sea-change. At the time of her death, she had been a conscientious practising person.

Before leaving, we looked at our school group-photo. Like a string of pearls, the beaming youthful faces, side by side, stood gazing back at us. We prayed for her – the missing one among us.

It will soon be 10 yrs since she passed away. I believe Allah loves her, for it is indeed strange, otherwise, that every time I sit to make dua, she enters my thoughts, and I can’t help but pray for her. It is Allah Who instills her remembrance in my mind & it is HE who makes me do dua for her so often. I’m sure countless people must be praying for her through Allah’s Will.     

The string has already been cut. One pearl has slipped out. The rest will soon scatter, unable to hold on to that flimsy thread. It’s not a matter of ‘when’. It’s not a matter of ‘who’ next. The important question is: “Have I earned HIS Love? Would HE inspire others to pray for me after I’m gone?”   

SOURCE: Click here

I encountered this article when I was on my flight to Medina, 7 years ago. I lost the newspaper cutting but I memorized most of the words. I hope this benefits you as much as it benefits me. Sometimes I forget that He have better plans than what my little mind have. I forget that with every hardship comes ease. I may not know all of His reasons but I have faith in Him. I hope you do too.

For my readers, and the people who saved me

  • December 31, 2015

I am a nobody in this blogging community, not when I've been abandoning my blog for the past 20 months but I'm going to write this straight up for the people who have been reading my blog ever since I was sixteen. Four years ago, I started writing about how depressed I am in high school and how life never seems to be fair to me; not in my studies. my relationship with my family, and not even my love life. Everything seems to fall apart ever since my bestfriends, the ones whom hate me when they first knew me and then later in life decided to take an oath to be my loyal companions, decided to move out from the school we shared tons of memories with. We promised each other to be okay and to always remind ourselves that we will be there for each other, but I was too weak to live without their presence.

Nothing seems to be right at that moment; believe me, I would cry every single night and not knowing what am I even crying about. It was a rough time for me. I don't think I have to explain to you how rough those moments were because I know you've been with me through it all, I may not know each and everyone of you, but everytime I posted about my depression in my blog, someone, would somehow came out to me and told me that they're feeling the same, and that I do not have to be scared in fighting my feelings all by myself. Eventually, my only escape is right here, in this little white box that I'm typing out my thoughts right now- my blog. My journey and fights in high school never gets any easier but knowing that some of you gained courage and strengths from the words of this broken soul, it somehow gave me a purpose to try and keep holding on to whatever believes and faith that's left in me. So thank you- for being there with me. I wish I could hug all of you who told me that my words inspired you, gave you a reason to hold on to something, help you through your tough phase, and most importantly- comforts your impaired souls. I am a no one, and it is beyond my imagination to get endless of lovely feedbacks from all of you- but I hope you found something through my words, and I hope you had found your way back to happiness. Thank you for being more than just my readers, thank you for being my saviours.

To Siela, you've been the loveliest deskmate a girl can ever pray for. Thank you for your endless advices and motivations that you gave me through out our senior year. You never fail to make me feel accepted for who I am- you would listen to my thoughts every single day without getting bored at it, hugged me when you know that I just spent the last 15 minutes of the lecture crying at the girl's bathroom, and simply join me at my weirdest self. We may not talk a lot now but you hold a special place in my heart that I am forever thankful about.

To Yanie, Wawa, Aniq, and Ejol, our 8 (and 13) years of friendship is the reason why I still believe in the existence of beautiful souls. All of you are different from one another but together, you guys are the greatest treasure I've ever called mine. 

To Syr, we are a complete different person and it never crosses my mind to be close to you but we did. You've seen a side of me that nobody else knew it exist and you've never judge me for the poor and reckless choices I've made. I stand by your words that nothing in this life is certain, and that there's no right or wrong in anything and everything- it's just the matter of how we chose to believe it. Thank you for being there for me through almost everything. Everybody label us as clingy- but I guess they have never met someone who would always be there for them at any hour of the day.

To the love of my life (you know who you are), I don't even know where to begin with when it comes to you. You've been my heaven on Earth for quite some time now and I'd like it to stay that way for as long as we can imagine. Thank you for never (not even once) giving up on me despite having to bear with well, me. I'm not the best person out there and there are so many things that I wish I didn't do to you. While most couples wish to meet their significant others a lot sooner, I wish I could meet you later in life so that I'll be someone better by then. We don't have it easy like everyone think we do but we tried our best for each other, don't we? There's simply noting perfect about us but the the fact that you and I are still committed to this, even after years, after constant arguments and misunderstanding, is already perfect enough for me.

I don't know how to start over in blogging but I know that I have some plans waiting in line for this blog. I hope I won't be afraid to start again. Thank you for being there along this journey with me.

Nazihah herself

Fast forward 6 months

I miss the memories that I left behind. Behind those pains and loneliness, I've found peace and my own kind of happiness that no one understands. I've been meeting so many new faces since then but I feel more invisible than I ever was before. A stranger, unimportant, but when I open up myself to greater challenges and opportunities, I learnt that everyone has their own nightmares but they are fearless. They don't know what might come tomorrow but they're ready for any risks coming from the decisions they made. They enjoy and live the moment, and what inspired me the most is that they give back everything that they have- let it be a small thing. But it's the small, simple things that count. I'm deeply thankful for this (current) phase of my life. I've grown to love the people I met who soon became my friends here and they couldn't be less than wonderful. It brings me to surprise me how nice and understanding some people can be. I've been shrinking my circle of people whom I trust expecting them to understand me the most; only to realize that they met greater person who fits their in their life perfectly. And it's fine with me because I too found people who doesn't criticise my choices in life. I feel like belong to where I am now and it sucks that I only feel this overwhelmed when I'm a month away till I'm done with my foundation.

About writing

Writing has helped me through my darkest times when I was too embarrassed to ask for help. It was through writings that I was able to built a bridge made of reckless and poisonous thoughts to a place that brought me to the people who (used to be strangers then but) means a lot to me now. I remember flipping the page of my journal to the part where I wrote a letter to the person I adore so much and shamelessly asked him to read it. Little did I know, he fell in love with me through every words written in fears and insecurities. And he managed to grabbed me out of my dreadful thoughts and made me realized of so many things that I should feel lucky for. He thinks that my deep passion about emotions are rather fascinating than a burden for him to help with. My past failures has brought me to a world full of hopes and chances. I miss writing a lot of honest thoughts when I was in the state of being depressed- falling off the cliff into a pool of negativity. But nothing can ever compare to the feeling of being content towards everything. You know, to wake up everyday expecting something great is about to happen, to love what you're doing and doing what you love, to find peace when you're alone, to feel someone's love when they're worried sick about you...those kind of things that you'll tend to overlook when you're too busy being a slave to your sad feelings.

However, I'm still grasping for inspirations to write down the way I feel right now because to me, writing anything that's related to happiness is pretty hard when you're used to being sad and depressed the whole time. I know I haven't been updating my blog as frequent as I used to but trust me, I've been meaning to find the right time and inspirations to do so. Still, I failed too many times. I realize that my love towards writings and the whole idea of blogging had never die. They just faded away but they're still there; holding a rebel inside of me trying to set free through the tips of my hand.

fyzie zissy