Home at last.

Assalamu’alaikum wrh. wbt.

The flight was memorable, even if I didn’t get any shut eye.

I am now in my new favourite house, Baitul Arden (Faiqah/Wafa’), with my favourite kind of music playing outside (raindrops touching the glossy roads).

I am too tired to be much of a writer.

So instead, I will put it some of Habiburrahman El- Shirazy‘s work here instead. He’s the authour of the book an ukhti recommmended, called Ayat-Ayat Cinta. I’ve stalled from buying the book for quite some time now, but with the recommendation of Ustaz Azhar (and his special discount), I actually did.

And although I already knew the ending, thanks to some thorough browsing at bookstores, I still found it a gripping, intelligent page turner. The Da Vince Code, it most certainly is not.

Although it is rather hard to believe that such a pious yet romantic soul as Fahri exists in this world. But then again, the author DID write the book as the mahar for his bride.

Ah.

Here. Enjoy:

‘Juga selama di Cairo, sampai Aisha membukakan purdahnya di rumah Syeikh Utsman. Kuakui ada satu nama yang membuatku selalu bergetar bila mendengarnya, namun tidak lebih dari itu. Aku merasa sebagai seekor pungguk dan seluruh mahasiswi Indonesia di Cairo adalah bulan. Aku tidak pernah berusaha merindukannya. Dan tak akan pernah kuizinkan diriku merindukannya. Kerana aku merasa itu sia-sia. Aku tidak mahu melakukan hal yang sia-sia dan membuang tenaga.

Aku lebih memilih mencurahkan seluruh rindu dendam, haru biru rindu dan deru cintaku untuk belajar dan mentelaah al-Quran. Telah kusumpahkan dalam diriku, aku tak akan membukakan hatiku untuk mencintai seorang gadis kecuali gadis itu yang membukanya. Bukan suatu keangkuhan tapi kerana rasa rendah diriku yang selalu bermain di kepala. Aku selalu ingat aku ini siapa? Anak petani miskin. Anak penjual tapai. Aku ini siapa?

aku adalah lumpur hitam

yang mendebu

menempel di sandal dan sepatu

hinggap di atas aspal

terguyur hujan

terpelanting

masuk longkang

siapa sudi memandang

atau menghulurkan tangan?

tanpa uluran tangan Tuhan

aku adalah lumpur hitam

yang malang

Tuhan telah mengucapkan kun! Lumpur hitam pun dijelma menjadi makhluk yang dianugerahi kenikmatan cinta yang memuncak-muncak dan rindu yang membuak-buak. Seorang bidadari bermata bening telah disiapkan untuknya. Fa bi ayyi allai Rabbikuma tukadziban! Maka nikmat Tuhan kamu yang manakah yang kamu dustakan.

Di dalam syurga-syurga itu ada bidadari-bidadari yang baik-baik lagi cantik-cantik.

Maka nikmat Tuhan kamu yang manakah yang kamu dustakan.

Bidadari-bidadari yang jelita, putih bersih dipingit di dalam rumah.

Maka nikmat Tuhan kamu yang manakh yang kamu dustakan.

(Surah ar-Rahman: 70-73)

P.S:- My dear BananaToffeeCheesecake, I hope you find the passage as inspiring as I do. Hugs!

Ukhuwah fillah fil Melbourne…

We Stood in Lines
by Zakkiratul Syazwina

We stood in lines once.
Maybe you and I both know it
We awaited the world
And feared what would be
Resigned to fate
Faith held tightly
We entered the world.
And now
Here we are again in lines
We stand side by side, shoulder by shoulder
Our hands are crossed before us in resolve
Our hearts are linked; they become homes
To every other heart
As far as the eyes can see
And we stand in lines still.
Your tears prick my heart
And feed my soul
With hope
Because you –
they
– We still stand in lines.
And whence the next full moon arrives and bids its time
And call some to its fray
And the lines shift and fill and flip over and again
Shall there be a meeting of these hearts once more?
For maybe there will be some who lose the fight and resign…
Their hearts not ours to hold…
But new numbers
New souls and hearts will fill the ranks
‘Tis a promise made, tested true.
And once again, we prepare to move into the world.
We stand side by side, shoulder by shoulder
Hands crossed in resolve,
Hearts linked.
Because we begin in His Name
And part in His Name.

‘Souls are like conscripted soldiers; those whom they recognize, they get along with, and those whom they do not recognize, they will not get along with.’
(Hadith from Usamah ibn Shurayk)

And (moreover) He hath put affection between their hearts. (Al-Anfal 8: 63)

Uhibbuki fillah, abadan abada, insyaAllah. <3

Shivering in the chilly spring.

Assalamualaikum wrh. wbt.

I am shivering.

I don’t think it’s completely due to the chilly wind breezing through my open window. It’s the first pleasantly cold day in nearly a week. I am very thankful, alhamdulillah.

I think I am scared.

I asked the naqibahs of my QC once. And I’ve asked PNut. And I’ve asked Ummu Faiqah, over green apples at the kitchen counter. And I’ve read about it in another ukhti’s blog.

And we’re all carrying about the same worry in the depths of our memories. Maybe in different amounts. But mostly the same concerns.

Maybe we’re all somewhat scared.

I still remember, a little, of what it felt like, those few weeks before I left home. LITW home. That part of me I really long for, but am wary of at the same time. I thought that since I had felt confused and listless back home before, I would be able to deal with it when I flew back there during summer.

A trip to a friend’s room a fortnight back proved me wrong, as only Allah ever can.

It was surprising to feel so suffocated and so lost, being the only one with that mindset in that particular house, at that particular moment. It felt like I was floating alone, and like I had no one on my side. Luckily, my heart drew me to the prayer mat, and I spent a few long minutes there, praying hard. I hope that my intentions were sincere, because Allah knew I nearly felt like my physical heart would take. I felt like I was near drowning, and the moments after I shut the door behind me and rushed down the corridor felt like huge gasps of painful fresh air, filling my lungs and nourishing my soul.

I know it all sound fairly dramatic, but that’s how it felt like. It’s just my nature to express myself with such superfluous adjectives, is all. But here’s the honest question:

How do you swim with your head above water?

I thought that since I had learned so many new things from the people around me, and from my parents, through the endless phone calls, I thought that I would be able to handle going back to LITW, and back into that inferno of confusion and lost souls searching. I thought that I would be able to swim upright, my head held high.

Now I’m not so sure.

And the mood music (OPick’s Buka Mata Buka Hati) is not helping much.
But an introspective on the lyrics is easing the worry a little.

‘Tak mungkin bisa ku sempurna
MencintaiMu seperti keMaha-anMu
Dini yang hina berlumur noda
Hanya bersimpuh memohon belas kasihMu

Beribu dosa tlah terjadi
Mewarnai langkahku
Hitam diri
Hitamlah hari yang lalu

Bila tanpa cahayaMu
Gelap seluruh hidupku
Tak berdaya
Tak bererti
Sia-sia

Buka mataku
Buka hatiku
Allah, terangilah hidupku
Dengan sinarmu.’

I guess, there isn’t much in me to do, except to mujahadah. I really have to work at it, I know. Because I can see myself actually longing to do the things I used to, nearly a year ago (masyaAllah, time flies), when in fact, I know I shouldn’t. I’m still struggling with my physical jahiliyah, and I know I’ve only just begun on my inner jahiliyah. I have far still to go.

I must admit, it will be hard to think differently.
To act differently.
To have stronger principles, and insyaAllah, live up to them.
To have a different scale of judgement.
To dress differently, even, considering the environment I will be surrounded by.
A few semi-funny, semi-revealing anecdotes by Ummu Lo’lo’ brought to light this point.

Ah, alhamdulillah, she will be so near by.

But after eight months of falling into pattern, it will be hard, being thrust into another environment. Despite my social inanity, I will definitely miss the bi’ah that surrounded me so thus far. We will be spread out all over LITW, come November and December.

If the 2nd-years feel the weight of the burden, I wonder how us 1st-years will fare?

May Allah give us all the strength of will and stoicity of faith that it will take for us to pull through. Ilaa mardhatillah, insyaAllah.

Wassalamualaikum.