I’m that Malay Racist

If geologist means an expert in geology,
and scientist is a person has expert knowledge of sciences,
while a nationalist is a person who strongly identifies with their own nation and vigorously supports its interest,
what's wrong of being racist?

i am not ashamed of being a racist,
a Malay that runs in my blood eversince.

but i am saddened of my race being anti-racist.

the Malays I know has always been the smart one.
the Malays I know has always been the hardworking one.
the Malays I know has always been the fearless one.

sadly,
the Malays kept on believing they aren't.
the Malays kept on thinking they are the weaker one.
the Malays kept on mocking they are the threatened one.

to some extent,
the Malays lost their own identities just by arguing the unnecessary,
the Malays lost their own mind just by disputing the nonexistent,
the Malays lost their own senses just by threatening the wothlessness.

and tell me,
who are at lost?

why can't we,
beat them with our smart brains?
defeat them with our kind hearts?
exceed them with our strong loyalties?

we were there,
since day 1 and till today,
what will make us gone,
is never them,
if we really adhere to the definition of being a Malay in Malaysia,
Article 160 (2) of the Constitution of Malaysia:
a person who professes the religion of Islam........
and I don't need to elaborate further.

If fearing others than Allah is what we chose to live by,
Don't tell me you are racist!

so, one last thing,
if race means bangsa in Malay
so, racist is kebangsaan, right?
what's wrong with being kebangsaan?



Bangsa Melayu

For-given sake

Forgive is only for the strong,

For giving needs more than what had been wrong,

As forego and forget not just merely a song,

That you sing when you are all alone.

Forgive is begged with full of remorse,

Yet we expect forgiveness to be given without force,

And we ask what’s forgiven to be forgotten in any course,

So the mistakes repeated would be endorsed?

-says ع-

CERPEN: Raya mana tahun ni?

‘Raya turn siapa tahun ni?’

Dia memberi senyuman paling manis sebagai jawapan untuk soalan itu. Jauh, dalam hatinya, dia menangis teresak-esak. Berhari-harian, bermalam-malaman.

Sejak berkahwin, raya mana tak pernah menjadi persoalan sukar untuk dijawabnya. Memang sebelum kahwin, sudah termeterai akurnya kedua pasangan, tahun pertama di rumah keluarga suami, tahun kedua di rumah keluarga dan berikutnya. Ada sekali dua, si suami terpaksa bekerja di tengah laut ketika raya, bahagialah dia dapat berpuasa beraya di rumah ayahbondanya tanpa mengira giliran siapa.

Tahun lepas, mereka beraya bersama keluarga suaminya di pantai timur. Tahun ini, seharusnya bersama keluarganya. Tapi itu kalau ikut apa yang diharapkannya.

Suaminya bukan seorang diktator. Dia boleh dibawa berbincang dan bertoleransi orangnya. Raya tahun ni pun, kalau si isteri mahu, boleh saja beraya di rumah mertua.

‘Takpelah bang, kita beraya di Kemaman saja. Raya kat KL pun, kalau kita dipulaukan oleh adik-beradik, sepupu-sepapat sendiri pun, dah macam tak raya je.’

Abah mama masih sihat, Alhamdulillah. Ingin sekali dia berpeluang mencium tangan abah mama seawal pagi raya, memohon ampun maaf atas segala laku, kata dan segala sikapnya yang sedar atau tidak membuat abah mama terguris jiwa.

Dulu, abah mama sumbernya ke pintu syurga. Syurga abadi dan syurga dunia. Semua yang dia mahu, malah sering juga tanpa dipintanya,mereka penuhi dan mereka lengkapi.

Sekarang, dah berkeluarga, bersuami, beranak tiga, wali hak pastinya si suami. Dia nak kejar redha Allah, syurga untuk si solehah. Lepas redha Allah, ikut pesan Nabi SAW, taat suami, solat puasa; Insyaallah pilihlah mana-mana pintu syurgapun, itu janji Allah. Itu yang dia dambakan. ‘Life goal’ kata orang sekarang.

Si adik, sepupu-sepapat marahkan dia. Entah marahkan dia sebab akur pada si suami, entah marahkan suami sebab kasar berbahasa, entah marahkan dia sebab tak seteru dengan mereka; dia cuba bertanya, bukan sekali dua. Setiap kali dia mencuba bertanya untuk mendapat jawapan pasti, setiap kali itu dia diherdik dan dimaki sepelaung kuatnya suara. Dia bukan jenis wanita bersopan lembut dan senyap bila diherdik. Tinggi suara si pengherdik, tinggi lagi frekuensi suara yang dilantunnya. Tak pernah berjaya untuk dia mendapat jawapan. Setiap persoalan pasti berakhir dengan herdikan dan jeritan.

Hingga habis hayat pakciknya, dia dan suami tak dijemput bertahlil. Malah, si makcik bangga mengaku dia bukan anak saudaranya lagi.

Si adik menjamu abah, mama dan adik bongsunya di restoran berdekatan kawasan rumahnya, bangga berkongsi gambar kegembiraan bersama. Mungkin dia lupa hendak mengajak kami sekeluarga. Mungkin dia tak berharap saya melihat setiap Instastory yang dikongsinya. Mungkin dia mahu saya tahu saya bukan lagi ahli keluarga mereka. Terlalu banyak kemungkinan berlegar di benak mindanya.

Kenduri ‘pre-ramadhan’ di rumah nenek beramai-ramai pun tidak menginginkan hadirnya mereka lima beranak. Cukup sekadar dikongsi segala gambar di sosial media. Jelas dia rindu setiap satu lauk-pauk yang terhidang, jelas dia sayu melihat semua sanak ada berkumpul, jelas dia pilu mendapat tahu mereka memang tidak malu mengaku mereka yang memutuskan ikatan yang datangnya dari Dia.

‘Raya turn mana tahun ni?’

Senyum lagi.

Kali ini dia gagahi, ‘Raya tempat mana orang nak terima kitalah kak. Orang tak sudi, takkan kita bak sorong muka ni. Kita pun nampak dalam cermin hari-hari, hidung memang tak mancung tara mana pun. Alhamdulillah, masih ada yang nak berkakakkan saya. Cuma bukan di tempat sendiri.’

PUISI: Yang Paling Mudah

Si gelandangan itu tak pernah kita ambil peduli,

Makan pakainya tak mahu kita menyibukkan diri,

Tidur mandinya bukan masalah perlu kita gusari,

Entahkah gila entahkan waras itu lebih mengganggu hati,

Yang paling mudah, lebih baik jangan didekati.

Si remaja berkumpulan mewah menghembus ganja,

DI hujung malam masih segar gelak ketawa,

Tak risaukah si ibu, tak mencarikah si bapa?

Sekolah ke mana, terdidikkah mereka?

Yang paling mudah, lebih baik jangan kita berbicara.

Si pengemis buta meminta-minta wang saku,

Dengan herdikan, kita halau tak membantu,

Tidak diberi, mereka membatu,

Kalau diberi, disuruh kerja mereka tak mahu,

Yang paling mudah, lebih baik jangan dibantu.

Si bapa fakir memohon bantuan,

Anak yang lapan sudah kelaparan,

Yang kita balas hanya tohmahan,

Kenapa melahirkan bila tak berkemampuan,

Yang paling mudah, lebik baik jangan kita galakkan.

Itukah kita sebenarnya manusia?

Asyik melabel tak mahu bertanya.

Itukah kita yang namanya insan?

Terus menghukum tanpa perbicaraan.

Itukah kita yang namanya Islam?

Sanggup membisu dari menyampaikan salam.

Itukah kita yang namanya beriman?

Kuat mencela tak takut Tuhan.

Si gelandangan itu lebih tinggi di sisi Al ‘Ala dari kamu yang pentingkan diri,

Remaja itu lebih terbentuk di sisi Al-Musawwir  dari kamu yang menghukum tanpa bukti,

Si pengemis buta itu lebih nampak di sisi Al-Basir dari kamu yang bermata tak berhati,

Si bapa fakir itu itu lebih rezekinya di sisi Ar-Razzaq dari kamu yang sombong tak berperi.

Berhentilah menghina mencaci, persiapkanlah diri,

Di hadapan Al-Muluk, bersedialah memohon simpati,

Biarpun sudah dipesanNya berkali-kali,

Tahulah kesudahan kamu, janjiNya pasti.

says ع
Image result for humanity

PUISI: INSAN

nun.sin.ya - yang lupa
itu kita, itu datangnya nama kita,
dan terus kita leka,
membiarkan segala yang kita lupa,
atau buat-buat lupa,
hingga nyata sanggup terus kita lupa, 
di dalam insan itu, ada jiwa. 

tergamak kita tak bertegur-sapa, 
hanya semata pendapat tak serupa,
persetankan segala firman dan sabda, 
biarpun nyata salahnya kita. 

sanggup kita mencaci mencela, 
si anu kini sudah menjanda, 
biar padan dengan muka, 
terlalu asik kejar dunia, 
entahkan solat entahkan lupa, 
sedap bahasa kita meneka.

melihat si fakir meminta-minta, 
terus kita meletak wasangka, 
kudratnya ada, malas berkerja, 
terus dicemuh dihalau dihina.

tajam sungguh jelingan mata, 
melihat sekumpulan anak remaja, 
tak henti merokok mencemar udara, 
bercampur gaul uda dan dara, 
tanpa segan tanpa batasnya, 
tak risaukah ayah ibu di rumah sana, 
tak pandai mengajar anak mereka.

yang kita lupa, 
silaturrahim memanjangkan nyawa, 
yang menjanda sudah takdirnya, 
si fakir meminta apa haknya, 
kurang kasih meliarlah remaja, 
ayah ibu tak henti berharap berdoa. 

yang kita lupa, 
takbur kita tak akur hukum Yang Esa,
sombong kita yang buruk sangka, 
tamak kita sesama manusia, 
angkuh kita tak mahu menegur-sapa.
bodoh kita kuat menduga.

sebelum nyawa dijemput Tuannya, 
sebelum mentari dibarat terbitnya, 
sebelum berbunyi sang sangkakala,
ubah lah kita..
sentiasa beringat lemahnya kita, 
yang selalu lupa teruslah berjaga, 
jangan sampai kita terleka.

WRITING: Accepting

At the point of me breaking down, feeling all alone and helpless, I realized, I am blessed with strong ladies surrounding me who are so dear to me and being tested with so many things and yet managed to pull through. One of them is my dear friend who just lost her child at the 11th hour of pregnancy.

In my humble opinion, this friend of mine is nothing but strong! Being a mom has never comes with a manual with it. I, myself went through three pregnancy mode and Alhamdullillah, everything went well with not much complications despites of me having a bad all-day sickness throughout all three semesters for all three pregnancies.

Having ‘something’ in your womb is nothing anyone could describe it exactly words by words, and therefore, to have the opportunity to carry a soul in your very own womb is nothing but a blessing miracle.

I’ve known few strong mommies who had difficulties during their pregnancies; getting pregnant itself is a complication, making sure the cells that become one beats healthily is another qualms, let it grow safely without ‘disturbing’ us is a challenge and welcoming the little mass securely to this physical world is always full of anticipations.

For whatever, we would want the soul to come out safe and sound, ten fingers and ten toes and all well.

But we are only human, the creature that Allah created with its purposes and all well written and well planned for. And from Him we came from and back to Him we shall go to.

Some of us are lucky to have been able to see the little soul who was just a heartbeat, grow up fine and grace right in front of our eyes.

Some was lucky enough to get the chance to bond for a short while before the soul was taken back to The AlMighty.

This friend of mine, lost a soul on her fifth month of the pregnancy and we were sad for her. But that was nearly a year or two ago.  When we found out that she got back on her own feet and was blessed for the fourth pregnancy, we were ecstatic. She was due anytime when we met up with her (at times the picture was taken). Who could have thought the what would happened next. We got a message from her that she has lost her child that she carried for nine month and was due ‘soon’. The soon came not as we’ve expected. The baby was healthy, and until today, I don’t have the heart to ask her what really had happened… I am still mourning for her, and I knew, in her smile, in her laugh, in her words, she is still missing her baby Jayden.


“But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you, and perhaps you love a thing
and it is bad for you; and Allah knows while you know not.  
{Al-Quran 2:216}

Rest assured, you never lost that child – I know, you know, we know. How blessed are you, having not one but two of your own flesh and blood waiting for you up in the Heaven, InsyaAllah.

Image result for accepting

WRITING: Priority?

I saw a struggling mom updating her FB status on weekends, had to leave  her only child with the babysitter as she and her husband had to complete some task prior to Monday big event at the office.

And for that instance, I am blessed for the ‘nikmat masa’ that Allah gives me that I am able to spend plenty of time with my husband and children for I was not working[1].  I wish every mother could have this life. A flexible life of no 9-to-5 working shift for five days in a week. It’s a luxury!

On the other side of the coin, I do understand, that is not an easy decision to make. Living in the world today, some mommies are left to no option than to work. No matter how much they wish they could just spend more time on the family, the world seems not to agree with them. I’m sorry for them. I know how badly they wanted to just not work and be able to send and pick up their children to and from school.  Some may wish to get more involved with the volunteering and charity works. Some would just want to bake and cook and try lots of new food. Some would just love to decorate the room, the stairs and so forth. Some would just wanted to write book. Summing-up, how wonderful life could be if mommies do not have to work and do what ever they want to do.

Nevertheless, we knew mommies who were scared of letting go their career life. They are 15% on making their way to pinnacle. They have been working all their hard since they were in the university, earned a reputable degree, went through the hardship climbing the career ladder and they are just a distant away to reach the peak. They are not letting go. Some may be able to balance their work and family life. Some would be struggling. Some would just ignore it.

This is when we, mommies, should know where to put our priorities right. If we think, sending our little baby at the babysitter’s home on weekend so that we could complete the assignment that the boss is expecting on the following week, ask ourselves, have we put our priority right?

Yup, it ain’t easy. After all, in Islam, we are not responsible for our children as it should be the father’s role and responsibility. Let’s hold the topic of roles and responsibility between a father and a mother for a while. Don’t put any religious opinion in it, though we must acknowledge Islam is the way of life, hence we can’t put anything aside in making any decision. But I just wanted to know, mommies with ambitions, what stopping you from outing your ambition to your own flesh and blood? How much do you need to earn so that you could take a time off to spend a peaceful weekend with your little one? Will it be for a month, a year or a lifetime?

I talked too much. I’m very biased in giving my opinion about working and not working and I’m sorry. I’m not against any working mom. But I wanted all mommies to know, working or not working, we just have to place our priority rightly. We just have to know what’s important and what’s less important. In my strong-headed opinion, nothing is more important than your family. I beg to differ. Allah is the most important in life, and when we put Him as our number one, we know, as a wife, we are oblige to our husband. Yes, some husband support the wife to be successful in the career..but I’m sure, most husband would prefer their wife to put the family first in the list, than work.

Or maybe I’m wrong.

Image result for priority



[1] I do have issues defining not working… Perhaps in my next chapter of the write-ups.

WRITING: ReMISSION

I cried yesterday. I cried while waiting for the dinner to be served on our table in our nice cozy neighbourhood mamak’s place. I cried when I wanted to place our order for dinner and the waiter gave me an empty look, still waiting for my order. I snapped. Not to the waiter though, but to the boys. I asked them to place the order, instead. And they were so obedient following to my instructions, placing their orders and asked me politely what was it that I wanted to have for dinner. I snapped. And I shouldn’t. I snapped because I could hear myself so loud and clear, yet the waiter did not give any respond. I snapped and I blame the boys, and I shouldn’t.

The oncologists label it as remission. Google Dictionary defines it as (1) the cancellation of a debt, charge or penalty; (2) a diminution of the seriousness or intensity of disease or pain; a temporary recovery; or (3) forgiveness of sins. Boots WebMD (webmd.boots.com) defines it as a word doctors often use when talking about cancer. It means that after cancer treatment, there are no signs of the cancer. Complete remission means that tests, physical exams and scans show that all the signs of the cancer one had are gone.  I called it another fancy name for type of sickness after cancer treatment, and it’s no fun and the ending is always ambiguous. I’ve asked my onco, when will ‘this’ last? He gave me a blank look and told me ‘it depends! Some people were okay after seven to ten years, some took longer and some lucky one could fully recover after five years. It depends. But as long as the cancer is inactive, you’ll be okay.’ And apparently, I somehow find out later in life that I got conned by the meaning of remission. Of course, I am thankful for the treatment went well and after eight cycles of chemo and thirty-three cycles of tomography, I was cancer-free. Alhamdullillah.  And until today, I knew it deep inside myself, being diagnosed of getting nasopharyngeal cancer[1] stage III has always been a blessed to me, no doubt. I’ll talk about it a little later.

Chemo was bad.  Pairing it with radiotherapy made it worst. The experiences were unbearable and it will always make me lost for words when the need to describe the pain rose. It’s indescribable. To some extent, I remember saying no matter how much I hate a person for doing something evil and bad to others, I won’t pray for that person to go through that chemo-radio experience like I did. It’s not fair to any human kind.

And I thought chemo was horrible. Until I met the monster remission. Remission is supposed to be a ‘good’ word. It brings hope and energy… mentally. Going through it was another story.

It is my third going to the fourth year of remission at times me writing this down. And as much as I wanted to believe that it would get better in times, it keeps on giving me false hopes. In the end, the best solution is to wait and see. After all, I am still here, typing this out word by word while some cancer patients are struggling to survive and some has even departed.

I got a nudge for High Above. I am definitely thankful for the given chance. Imagine if I didn’t make it and leave the world.. truth was.. I was a great sinner… am not saying that I’m such a holy now, but, the least I was given another chance to repent and to prepare for the eternity life. Alhamdullilah. How can I not be thankful?

And being thankful, I shouldn’t complain. And I am not complaining. It’s just that, once a while, when the fluids from ears were overflowing and I couldn’t bear the sticky fluid coming out from my ears, I cried. And sometimes, when the constant buzzing in my ears decided to amplify itself and made both of my ears blocked badly and I could literally hear myself breathing, I cried. And sometimes, when I thought I was screaming calling my kids’ names and they were just doing whatever ignoring my call because the call was not even a call as there could any sound reaching out to their ears, I cried. Sometimes, when I was just so tired for not doing anything and all I had to do to recover was sleep hours and hours and hours on the bed and I could even had the guts to get some food into my stomach, I cried. And sometimes, when I could hardly feel anything on both my feet and my hands and my nerves were numb and to some extent I had some blood flowing on my fingers from the knife’s cut and I didn’t feel it at the time of the incident, I cried.

Once a while, I cry. Once a while, I wonder, how long will these last? Once a while, I wish things would go back to normal….  And for now, I’m settling for this being the new normal.

At times me writing this, I was reminded of Kak Nani and Hani. Two strong ladies who had their chemo complete, did the surgery to remove the damaged organs and standing strong until today. Kak Nani has been in remission for more than a decade and Hani is in her second year. I remembered asking Kak Nani, ‘How long will this lasts? When will we get our ‘normal’ life.’ And her answer, ‘I’m still waiting’ just deserved one good strong long hug, both her and myself need that comforting hug. Then, Hani came and asked me few months back, ‘When will this last? When will we be strong like we used to be?’. And dear buddy, I’m still waiting. We were never a survivor. We are surviving, till it lasts. For the time being, we just have to adapt with our new normal



[1] Nasopharyngeal cancer is a rare type of head and neck cancer. It starts in the upper part of your throat, behind the nose. This area is called the nasopharynx. The nasopharynx is precariously placed at the base of your skull, above the roof of your mouth. Your nostrils open into the nasopharynx. (source: http://www.google.com)

SEKADAR MENULIS: Mimpi

Terlena sebentar di atas sofa usang ruang tamu itu. Dek sejuk hawa dingin, terus lena dibuai mimpi.

Hebat gaya profesional mengejar bola kecil itu dengan kayu hoki Grays kesayangan. Dia bukannya pemain hebat, Cukup sekadar mempertahan benteng dari ditelusuri lawan.Kali ini, peluang di depan mata. Entah bagaimana termampu dibawanya bola hingga ke gawang lawan. Dihayun kuat menghentam bola, terus menembusi pintu gol yang tersedia. Kehebatannya mengejutkan dia sehingga berdebar-debar denyutan dada.

Indah mimpi itu hingga terus dia berinspirasi. Mimpi yang pasti tak menjadi kenyataan sebab dia tahu lemah dah mampunya. Cukup sekadar mimpi di siang hari, ianya tetap indah.

Hari ini, dia terlalu letih. Terlalu jauh digagahi cita-citanya. Dia mencuba. Berputus harap, mungkin tidak. Cuma dia mahu berehat sebentar. Lama mana sebentarnya, dia sendiri masih mencari. Dia ingin berada di dalam mimpinya. Lari dari keselesaan yang dilakukan seharian, gigih tak hiraukan segala yang mendatang, terus skor ke jaringan kejayaan. Kalaulah hidup seindah mimpi.

Agama melarang memanjangkan angan, agama juga menyuruh bersangka baik. Melayu mencabar kalau kail sejengkal jangan di duga, melayu juga mengajar kalau tak pecahkan rebung manakan dapat sagunya.

Berehatlah.

Setelah lelah mencuba.

Tapi jangan berputus harap.

Yang baik itu ada menunggu.

Yang buta itu diri sendiri.

Janji Tuhan tak pernah buruk.

Dia lebih tahu mana baik untuk hambaNya.

Cukup sekadar sabar, syukur dan tingkatkan usaha dengan iman.

Insyaallah, sampai nanti di sana.