I've decided to post shallower materials from now on. What's all this serious posts business anyways? People will think I'm actually a middle aged man ready to die from cancer or something !

On Hassan, Whose First Word was 'Amir'

I read novels through my teenage years. It offered asylum from the many things I didn't like about life at the time. It offered different people to know and understand and relate to, different countries to live in, different vehicles to ride on, different feelings, different cultures, different troubles to think about, different foods to eat, different lives to live and different worlds altogether. And in most parts, these different things are much better than reality.

We knew the characters, their deepest, darkest secrets, we knew what they thought of, their struggles, their preferences, their pet-peeves, their motives and their feelings. And it wouldn't be too much of a pretense to say that we can predict them in the entirety, how they would act or how they would feel if something happens to them.

We know them by heart. We know that Harry Potter would do anything to save his friends and was the bravest boy in his school, and thus the image of an 11 year old boy going back for a girl- friend, into the haunted girl's toilet and going against a big monstrous beast with such composure is something we don't really question. Neither were Artemis Fowl applying cryogenic science to delay the death of his bodyguard, nor Alex Rider who got into his uncle's office through the outside window of the however many storied office building. Or Hassan whose first word was 'Amir' or Charlotte Doyle, a 13 year old girl who joined a pirate crew. We take it as truth because we know them.

Our books became witnesses. The pages absorbed our tears when our characters cried, they saw how our lips curved into uncontrollable smiles, too hard to suppress when our characters win or found redemption, they felt our breaths quicken when our characters had to run on the way to the rendezvous.  Such power these stories and characters have on us. No wonder we feel so connected to them!

Upper class English lass turned pirate...Really...~

2 things I would like to point out. The first is that these characters only belong in novels. As much as we would like someone on the face of this huge earth to actually be like them, we need to understand they are simply fictional.

Why do I make this point in the first place? Its because throughout my reading, I have fallen into the trap of thinking that they are indeed possible. That these characters are alive in the people around me. And so I look to find perfection and such characters in the people that I know. I looked out for Atticus Finch and Hassan. Reepicheep and Samwise. And when real people fail to meet my expectations of perfect courage or standing firm on their principles, or acting out on the pure basis of friendship and love, I feel disappointed. But it's with great relief that in recent years I have come to accept the realities of life. That there are always real things that people worry about and real, practical (and totally boring) reactions of people towards a situation. And hurtful it may be, it has made accepting human flaws easier for myself.

Sarah Kay on Long Distance Relationships

 If my heart was a compass you'd be north

Risk it all cause I'll catch you when you fall

Wherever you go

If my heart was a house

You'd be home

(If My Heart Was A House, Owl City)

Here's to those who are shoulders to cry on, ears to listen, arms to hold and hearts to feel. Here's to them who are safety nets to catch, bent knees to step on, lifeboats to save, music boxes to sing with, soul to understand and voices to hear back so you know you're still alive. 

To everyone of you who have always been there for someone, whoever you are, wherever you may be. Here is to you. 

Why long distance relationships? Because many times I feel that we are always in long distance relationships with people, even when we are so close to each other that our elbows touch. That there's never enough time and never enough space to say and fit feelings into our conversations, to ever really get to know each other, to ever really touch each others hearts. And thus we never really get to be that person that's there for someone else.So far away, wherever we are.

But anyways, to all of you who have been there for someone, thank you. For I believe being able to return and fall back to someone, to seek refuge and temporary peace in whatever situation, is one of the greatest gifts from God to humanity, and you help to make it happen.


Jazakallah
Azfar

Malaysian Night. Why my heart ached.

Last night, the annual Malaysian Night hosted by the Malaysian club MYSUN was held in a club in Newcastle City.

Alia reciting a poem about Independence

Despite my horrible appetite and ongoing tummy cramps, we made it through alright. There were lots of food, performances and what not all night. Overall, things were good.

However while sitting in the front table, trying to eat something to chase this gastro away (does that even work scientifically?), several things intrigued me.

Abang Mizan aka my Silat teacher. Cool or what?

Firstly, what the emcees called 'history classes'. While waiting for things to be set up, the emcees would sometimes state some historical facts about Malaysian independence. The recurrent theme that I managed to pick up was about colonisation, by one power after the next. Malaysia was colonized by the portugese, then the dutch and the brits and the japs.... Gee...I thought that was just heart breaking. That we were there telling some ten percent of the audience that our country was a ball in the air, punched and kicked and rolled around by people. True that was. It is historical fact, I shall not argue. But to me, listening to all that through the voices of the emcees whom have no choice but to state it cheerfully is just, again, heart breaking. And I asked myself, confused and wondering, where is the patriotism in that?

Apek on the band 'Tragic Affair'

Why dont we talk about the struggle for independence instead? To cherish people who have made it possible? To appreciate them and acknowledge the fact that what they did finally brought us free from the brits after hundreds of years of colonization of land and mind? And to state that the fight for independence was bloodless? So what was it that flowed from the veins of the Warriors of Malacca, Dato' Maharajalela, Tok Gajah, Tok Janggut and thousands more, be it Malay, Indian or Chinese when they were shot and stabbed by these colonizers? Are we trying to paint a politically beautiful, peaceful history at the cost of the honor of these men and women who gave their lives trying to protect the land that was dear to them? Is this the way we honour our forefathers?

Maybe a great thing to do is to get to know these patriots personally, to know what makes them the patriots they were, what gave them the strength to make the ultimate sacrifice for their country and learn from them.     

Awesome performance! 

Secondly, to the agreement of some of my collegues, none of them Malay and one of them not a Malaysian, some of the performances weren't really Malaysian culture at all. The girls doing the chinese dance actually said its not chinese (to which i think i understand), rather it was just a fan (like chinese fans) dance. And again, it gets me thinking, if the objective of Malaysian night is to showcase malaysian culture, are some of these things that we do correlate well with what we say? What is the point in this then? I'm not criticizing my friends who put in a lot of effort into their performances, i mean, what they did were great! Especially the Indian dance, but I would like to enjoin us to think about what we do. And learn.

What we do, must be consistent with what we say. Especially when we are representing a whole lot of people to the world. If we want to celebrate independence, to celebrate diversity in a multicultural land, we should then talk about independence, about revolutions, about lessons we can learn from being colonized, about what its like to live in racial and religious harmony and how Australia can learn from what we do back home. Yes, many people want to see dances, many people want to cheer and laugh and have a good time, but is that what our independence and our culture is all about? Dancing? Singing songs that dont even potray our independence and multiculturalism and showing fighting moves? Are we that shallow of a people? Is this shallowness what we, a percentage of the most well educated people from the country are proud about?

Hiyak hiyak hiyak!!!

Think, people, think! You are intelligent people.

Why dont we have a deeper Malaysian night next time? One thats about revolutions. Revolution of mind, of language, of culture, of religious tolerance, of harmony, of economics, of science. We don't have to abandon the great performances, but we can certainly educate ourselves more and other people about the greatness of Malaysia. Lets do a play, about aspirations of young Malaysians, of how we want the future to be, of how we want to be liberated from the clutches of negative foreign influences, of how we want to, together build a better Malaysia for all. Integrated, harmonized, peaceful, understanding.

I'd risk sounding ideal and unreal, but isnt this what we want? Isnt this patriotism? Isnt this what we mean when we say we love our country? 

We should love Malaysia as much as Aryzz loves to put the Malaysian flag into his mouth!

Salam perpaduan, salam cinta Malaysia!
Azfar 

Credits to Ahmad Syafiq Akbar Ali, the photographer who allowed me to post these photos up. To see more of his work, go http://www.facebook.com/ahmadsyafiq . Thank you bro! This is my most colourful post ever!

Syeikh Navaid Aziz on Welcoming You to His Paradise

Just a quick post of a hand held, dodgy looking video (excellent audio quality though) of a quite popular speaker from Canada. My friends and I saw him on a tour last month, after a split second decision to go to Sydney that night to catch this guy, Boona Mohamed (popular for spoken word) and Baba Ali (stand up comedian) all together in 'the Strangers Tour'.


During his talk he said that, maybe, many of us dont work so hard to attain paradise because we stopped contemplating about it. And so he said sometimes, when life gets too tough, he'd like to escape into his future paradise for respite and renewal of his energy. So have a listen, and let your imagination run wild...!

Owh I just realized that this video didnt go further into the gates of his paradise. Well from what i can remember, there was talks of chocolate rivers, chocolate boat, fish waiting to be caught and a mild sun that always shines to the best, moderate temperatures...literally soaking it in....Aaahhh.... But that is his paradise.

The question is: How's your paradise going to be like?

Best regards
Azfar

On Paying Fifty Cents for a Plot of Land, an Architect and a Lawyer

He asked "can we do some service for the local people? Like web classes or something?"... and I went " What??? Why the hhh….heavens would we have to do that for them? We don't owe them anything. We bought that piece of land, we are paying for the mosque ourselves. We don’t owe them anything for us to have to 'make up' for building a mosque there".

A man asked the question to the solicitor who stood in front of the prayer crowd tonight  and said, in his Australian accent, thick as hookah smoke, that he was happy with the way things are going with the plans for the new mosque in Elermore Vale, Newcastle.

An artist impression of the upcoming mosque in Elermore Vale..uuu..whose car is that?

As the people in Newcastle may have heard or got to know, the muslim community of Newcastle is raising funds to build a new mosque to accommodate the increasing number of muslims residing here. The new mosque was proposed to be built in a suburb called Elermore Vale. The plot of land was bought several months ago and now, the last steps before a new shiny mosque is getting approval from the city council, and getting enough funds to reach a total target of AUD1.4million.

Since 2 years ago, the mosque committee has tried every single day to raise funds for the mosque. The evidence is clear, every Friday, there will be a man standing in front of the doors of the Masonic Hall that has been rented for several years now for the Friday prayers asking for donations "Sedeqah for the masjid *ching ching ching (sound of coins rattling)*. Sedeqah for the masjid *ching ching ching*. The Prophet told us that whosoever builds a mosque, Allah will build a house for him in Jannah (Paradise)!!!".

That's what he did, that man, every Friday. And the sound of his donation box will always stick in my memory, the sound of a thin layer of coins rattling in a big, hopeful box.

I'm not writing this so people would feel guilty about not giving a lot for to the mosque even when we use the mosque every day, every Friday, every Iftar,  every  Community Iftar, or every Eid, for free since the last 10 years, or since only recently.

I'm writing to share a feeling that I noticed while I said those words up there to a friend sitting beside me in the prayer hall.

"WE bought that piece of land, WE are paying for the mosque OURSELVES. WE don’t owe them anything for US to have to 'make up' for building a mosque there".

I don’t claim to have given much for the new mosque, but I feel… very connected to it. I feel that my occasional 50cents or 5 dollars were used when the committee bought the piece of land, or paid the architect or the solicitor. I feel that I have contributed to this mosque and I feel that I have a right to call the mosque mine…or ours. And for that, I love the new mosque, even when there's no rock solid guarantee that its going to be built. I love it and I want it, because I paid for it. I deserve to have it. Nuff said...

For those reading this and know of the situation, I implore you to  feel the same as I am. You should feel that YOU ARE contributing to this mosque, you should feel that you have ownership over the mosque, you should feel that the mosque is yours, or ours. Because it is.

You have given what is needed for this new mosque. It may have been AUD5, or AUD10, or AUD100, or your effort to telling people about this cause. You are in this as much as I am, or that man who asked for donations every Friday, or the Imam of the mosque. This masjid is going to be yours! In 10 years time when you decide to come around to visit Newcastle and bring your kids for a drive around , you should feel proud showing them that mosque because you helped to build that mosque. The mosque is there, because you took part in funding it.

 And it will be a place where thousands of people do good deeds, everyday. It will be a place where people will find faith, or regain fading faith, or learn about the Quran and Islam, or meet each other and spread goodness and truth. And it will be possible because of you.

So thank you all Novocastrians, for your being here will leave a mark of peace, good and faith for a very, very long time to come.

Yay we're getting a new mosque!

Azfar    

"Whosoever shares in building a masjid for Allah, even if it is as small as a bird’s nest, Allah (S.W.T.) will build for him a house in Paradise."  (Prophet Muhammad pbuh)

On "dear blade of Gryffindor...can you just magically appear in front of Harry?"

"And We strengthened their hearts with patience, when they stood up and said: Our Lord is the Lord of the heavens and the earth; we will by no means call upon any god besides Him, for then indeed we should have said and extravagant thing" (Al Kahf, 14)

I was talking about this in a discussion lately with some of my friends. Something I got from an article in SuhaibWebb. The article was mainly about Ramadhan, and slipped somewhere in the middle of the article, full of wisdom and faith is a verse from the Quran (the one in yellow up there). The verses prior to this one and the ones to come tell the story of a group of young men who had to run from their community and go into hiding in a cave in order to protect their lives. Why they had to run away you ask? It was because they carried with them a message of faith, which contradicted the belief system of the community and the governing entity. So confronting was their message, that they had to flee from their own people. Can you imagine how big that is?

Well what I'm interested in writing about today isn't really about the message they were bringing. Though I must admit that trying to elaborate on that message would be quite an effort and the little knowledge that I have would definitely do it injustice, and thus I won't be too brave to attempt that now.

I'd rather talk about that verse, which is interesting in itself. If we look closely into the words, we will find that Allah mentioned that He strengthened their hearts when they stood up and said... . WHEN they stood up. God sent them help, in the form of strengthening their hearts with patience when they have taken the initial step towards their goal. However hard to achieve and far away their goal was. There is a lesson to be learnt from this, a lesson that we can all practice in life.

Too many a time that I prayed and I prayed to God to make things easier for me, to show me the right way, to guide me to the right path in life, to make medicine easier to study, to make someone easier to approach, to make words flow easier from my lips. And as many of a time did I forget to or simply just didn't take any actions towards what I asked God for. And thinking about the soul of this verse, we should realize that God's help isn't far away from us, but in order to attain His help, we need to prove our commitment towards what we want. We need to take action and prove that we really want that something, and when we have taken the steps, InsyaAllah, God Willing, help will come. Like a patronum that showed Harry where the blade was, help will come.

It may be in the form of making our hearts believe even more, or some physical entity from anywhere at all, or a call from someone special. Or it may even be stumbling upon an article that'll help you believe in the path you have taken. Whatever form that it takes, it'll come when you have taken the effort, to carve what you want onto stone. Because if you write it in sand, making just some small strokes with your fingers, even the smallest breeze of an autumn day can ruin it.

So whatever it is that you want, remember to take steps towards it. Because life isn't that easy to have everything fall into place just because we want it to.

Trying to practice what I preach
Azfar

On how tall, built, macho and handsome I am

I get angry at people who make fun of others excessively. Partly because I've been laughingstock....or to put it in a lighter way,a joke by many, all my life. And partly because I've seen what making fun of others can do to a person.
Spare the constant self embarrassing stunts  I usually get myself in, I've always been made fun of by people. Mostly its because of my physical attributes. I'm short, small, dark, hairy, big nosed...you name it.
When I was a child I got very disturbed by all these remarks people make, sometimes not even meaning to offend, sometimes just a statement of the truth, of what appears to them in physicality. So disturbed was I that I sometimes get to a stage of not really liking myself, and blaming someone for what I was.
But not too far into teenage-hood that I finally stopped being disturbed by comments people make, because I started to accept what was given to my by God. It doesn't mean that I stopped wishing that I was a wee bit taller or that I was a bit bigger (there's the gym for that anyways) but I started to accept things that I was born with. Namely the phenotypes of my genes, things I've had no choice in. And since I started to accept what I was, responding to comments got a bit harder. I just don't know how to respond, for I see no problems with people making those jokes about me.

So yeah, the whole text up there was just to say, hey guys! I don't really mind whatever you guys say about me. I'm fine with it.  In saying that though, I for one do not condone making fun of other people's physical attributes.

For making fun of others doesn't necessarily reflect them, rather it reflects us.

Make me laugh
Azfar

p.s.: excuse the rant, I have no idea what to put in the blog so there goes. And yes, the picture up there is how I look like in actual reality =P.

On Climbing Over Walls and Calling Out to Him

To every one of you who has only recently been tested.

I hope that you do not see this test as a great impenetrable wall that stops light coming through. I pray that each and every one of you will find grappling hooks and ropes to help you climb over this wall, or great steel hammers to help you smash through. If ever you feel that you need a friend to boost you up, remember that many are around, right now probably a bit afraid to help you out for fears of your reactions, but always ready to lend you a hand or two for you to use, if not to provide a place to step on, to pass you a handkerchief.

Maybe He misses your voice calling out to Him? For you should know that God tests those whom He knows can endure it, those whom He loves.

Cry all you want, if you find comfort in it, for there its no shame in crying, but may all those tears turn into beads of spirit to strengthen your heart and soul. Rest and take a look back at the journey, in the spirit of learning and humility. May standing from afar lets you see the whole mountain with its cracks and crevices and helps you take a better way up next time.

Finally, lets all remember these verses in the Quran:
"So, verily, with every difficulty, there is relief;
Verily with every difficulty there its relief;
Therefore, when you have finished (your occupation), devote yourself for Allah's worship;
And to your Lord, turn all your intentions and hopes"
(5-8:94, Al-Quran)

On A Bus-hopper Who Made a Doctor

Once when I was seventeen, I spent two weeks in a hospital in Penang for an attachment to the ED. The experience in the hospital was rather humdrum, apart from the daily motor vehicle accidents resulting in masses of brain injury cases and orthopaedic referrals.

However, an interesting event happened to me when I was about to go back home to Shah Alam. It was a Friday afternoon; my uncle took the day off to get me to the bus station. After the Friday prayers and some grub, it was time for farewells.

I then hopped on the bus, to several quiet heads, minding their own businesses while waiting for the bus to depart. I took my seat and pulled out a book and was about to start reading when I heard the voices of children outside of the bus. And before I knew it, I saw the driver open the bus door and in came a sudden gush of small, repetitive voices.

I tilted my head to the right, and saw small children, two girls and a boy. The girls wore head scarfs, just tiny triangular pieces of soft cloth wrapped around their heads with a knot under their chins. And in what seemed to be hand down clothes, the girls wore baju kurung, and the boy was in a tshirt and shorts.

The children without any hesitation then started to approach everyone in the bus, going to them one by one, asking for money. "Seringgit, seringgit...." I remember them say. Being the person to avoid uncomfortable situations, I decided to pretend to be all too absorbed in my reading, so when the children came to me they would see that I was reading and won't bother asking from me.

But oh boy, how wrong was I. I heard their voices came closer and closer, until, from the corner of my eye I saw a tiny figure standing beside me, repeating the words "seringgit...seringgit....". I chose to continue reading with the child standing beside me until, I guess, I couldn't avoid it any longer. These kids are professionals, really, did I really think that they haven't seen a person doing this before? 

She had a dark complexion, looks nothing like a Malay or and Indian, a mix probably. By her size, I would say she was 7 or 8 at the time. Wearing a red head scarf and with her tiny voice and a hand forming a cup, she stood there, eyes full of disinterest, repeating "seringgit...seringgit...". She was by herself, the other two had gone further along the bus aisle.

Did I have any money to spare for her at the time? I probably did, she probably wouldn't expect much either. Did I want to give her any money? No. I wasn't about to give my money to some kid who decided to hop on busses and beg. They're probably making heaps everyday doing this.

And so, not wanting to give any money, I offered her a question instead. With  a smile, I asked "what is your name?" (NB that the following conversations occurred in the Malay language, with me trying to do the Penang slang) . The child stopped uttering her begging chant, and looking slightly embarrassed, she told me her name. What her name was, I couldn't remember, I couldn't even work it out at that time, it didn't sound Malaysian. I then continued to ask her "have you had lunch yet?" - "no, we eat once we go home" , "how did you come here" - " we came by bus numbered *something something*", "where do you live?"-  "somewhere else, we take a bus to get here in the morning. My home is in Myanmar", "where's mum and dad?"- "I dunno... maybe in Myanmar".      

I then asked her more questions, just to engage with her and be nice, I guess. Without me noticing though, the other two children were done begging in the bus, and so now they stood on each side of the girl, listening to the conversation. Noticing them now, I tried asking the other girl, an older one it seemed, probably ten or eleven, the same questions. She smiled a bit, and then, in what seemed like a flash, snatched my book from my hands, dangled it above my head, all the while asking for money. That caught me by surprise. "Owh great, feral immigrant children harassing people on busses! What's happening to this world??"

I was then still adamant on not giving out any money to these children and I tried to take the book back from her while sparing a bit of dignity for myself by not acting too roughly, to no avail. Now it really, really seemed like I had no choice but to hand them some spare change as ransom for my photocopied book. But before I could fish my wallet out, the small girl, coming from the back of her elder friend snatched the book from the older girl and handed the book back to me, with a shy smile that could've melted a butter truck beside the bus. I thanked her.

And ever so suddenly, the bus engine started, the bus now looked less empty than it did several minutes ago and it looks like we were about to make a move. The kids, as if hearing an angry voice calling out for them for dinner, took the cue and went out. And the bus, with the engine running, suddenly felt so quiet. I didn't see them again, but I thought I saw a glimpse of a red scarf heading to another bus nearby.

After they left, I felt a sadness within me, and a feeling of utmost gratification for what I have. I felt sad for that girl who was brought into a foreign country, given barely enough to live, and forced to spend her days asking people for money which she will, at the end of the day, give to some syndicate of people smugglers. Not knowing where her parents are, not knowing the possibilities of a good future, not given a chance to an education. What does the future hold for her?

I saw during the moments of our short conversation how she, for that moment in time stopped being a beggar and became a child. I saw in her that that opportunity doesn't come often and I saw how much she appreciated me asking her those questions, to let her, just very briefly, be a child. And I thought about how many children in this world who are denied their rights to be children, to have to grow up and survive on their own so soon. My head would've just exploded. Too big a problem for me to solve. But even if I didn't find the solution to global poverty and hunger, this has been one of the events that further enforced my decision to become a doctor in the future. That with God's help, and the knowledge, I can one day help children like her in some way live a better life. 

Little child, I pray, wherever you are right now, that you are always blessed by God and that you are happy. For I don't know if I would ever smile like you if I was put under your circumstances. And even if you will never read or know of this, I want to thank you, on behalf of myself and potentially many more.

For that day when you smiled, you gave birth to a doctor.

Yours
Azfar

On the Freaks Whom I Call Friends

So raise your glass if you are wrong

In all the right ways

All my underdogs, we will never be, never be

Anything but loud

And nitty gritty dirty little freaks

(Raise Your Glass, Pink)

Looking at the present, we'd find that people are somewhat getting weirder and weirder. Things that are once seen as unacceptable is now rampant, things once seen as stupid now dominate mass media, things that were generally bad, are now seen as norm. Call it a liberation of ideas, call it eventual acceptance of what is in the essence right, but just not seen so at present, call it evolution of the human mind , but as a person and a muslim specifically, I do not see how these things liberate a person. More so, I can clearly see how these things trap a human into dependence on other human beings, just people craving for words of acceptance from other people, to have a kick of dopamine into their ventral tegmental area.

As pointed out by a dear friend in his blog post, is there hope for this world to be once again a place where good dominates over...non-good? A question that, to my great relief is being asked and addressed by many of my peers today. 

In the time where people are nose diving into hedonism and shamelessness sugar coated with terms like 'freedom of expression', 'rights' and 'modernism', it is great to know that there are people taking active measures to get people to the right path.

Though I dare not admit to being in the likes of such people, I would loudly exclaim my support and agreement to their efforts. This is the least I could do.

And as any classical tale of good versus evil, justice versus tyranny, there will be characters in the tale that would describe us in real life.

Firstly there's the status quo that practices evil and the people doing their best to uphold that. Then there's the people living in the status quo, some who agree to the conditions they are living in because it benefits them in one form or another, some who don't because it robs them of their rights and the majority of people who are hoping to make just enough to live without bothering others, even if it meant having to live and practice the status quo, all the while hoping for the better. And then there's the hero, who challenges the status quo, brings up their own army of the wronged and hurt and finally brings peace and justice to the kingdom.

Where do I stand amongst the characters of the tale? I do not fully know yet. But I believe that my limited experience in this life and some learning has unclouded my eyes, allowing me to see some of these characters in real life, in front of my eyes.

I've seen these heroes, who spend their time trying to get people to do good and change their mindsets from "its ok to live in this" into "this is clearly not right, and I have the power to make changes for the better". And I've seen the reaction of their peers towards them. And frankly,  I am saddened to see that while many just won't listen, some are even actively going against what they are doing. Its like telling a doctor who comes to your home to offer you help for your pain "Go away, I do not need you to complicate matters. I'll live with this pain in the back of my head all my life until I die, when finally I wont feel it anymore. And don't you dare going around to other people offering your medicines, they too don't need you". Its like a person knows there is a problem and they believe that there is a solution to it but they are not willing to listen to the options. And people who enjoin good are seen as weird and wrong and different from others, like humans in the default setting are not made to enjoin good. Well that is weird isn't it? Because everyone who is of respectable status and people who we love tell us to do good. Our parents tell us to do good, our teachers tell us to do good, our nation leaders tell us to do good.

And so why is it different if our peers tells us to do good? Why is it wrong for some people to spend their time enjoining good and why is it alright, or normal for some others to spend their times surfing the net for no particular reason? Why is it wrong for people to spend their money going to places to meet friends who also enjoin good  and while it is normal for others to spend whole heaps more to cross continents just to meet old friends? (N.B. dear reader that I'm not making these comparisons to highlight what is good and not, but simply to state what is accepted as normal and not) Oh yeah I forgot! Of course!  Because it is weird and freaky in the world we are living now for another person to care so much for another, that they take extra effort to ask the other to do good (because they believe that doing good will serve them well in this world and the next), and it is just unnecessary for people to teach and talk to others about doing good because "of course they know about it…they just…". And it is just normal for people to ask others to waste time  and money doing things of no benefit at all. Of course!

Well with that epiphany I just had I guess I can now stop my yapping. I'm starting to sound like one of those freaks.

He's dividing everyone

With his claim that God is One

So don't talk to me about Muhammad 

Because of him there is no peace and I have trouble in my mind

So dont talk to me about muhammad

And as we walk along together we will get along just fine

(Don't Talk about Muhammad, Dawud Wharnsby Ali)

Freaky in only so many ways

Azfar

 

(P.S : I think my posts are getting worse with each submission. But…. I'm blaming to relaxed atmosphere of the holidays for this, I usually have lots to write during the busiest times of the semester, it must the adrenaline. Hoping to post reading worthy material soon. )

Sometimes silence is the loudest kind of noise

Stuvac has just started and I've so much to catch up on. I practically wiped my hard drive clean from anything that had scalpels, protruding body parts, insufficient blood flow, milk producing organs, thermal cauterizations and everything else that's intense, sadistic, macho and tiring.

However I'd just like to post this quick entry to share with you guys this poem by Bassey Ikpi, on just how better it was during those days when everything was easy.

Gonna pass this semester like it doesn't really matter
Azfar

On seeing a beautiful girl on Facebook

Obligingly as always, I browsed through the Facebook page after cooking dinner for two, half an hour after I ran in the unforgiving torrential rain to my car parked on demon hill (refer to previous post) after hospital.

Going through everyone's lives, I saw 2 photos in which my sister was tagged.

The photos were taken on 29th of May 2011, the day of my sister's wedding!! It seems a bit unreal, there she was, in her wedding dress, very beautiful, more beautiful than always, with a guy who is now officially my brother in law!  Hmmmm...brother in law....its weird just saying it. But that was it, my sister is married now! I guess it is a bit weird because during that historic day, I was in Newcastle, reading a book on a rainy day, bored out of my skull, when everyone else were there, coming together, enjoying each others companies, celebrating my sister's wedding. My sister's wedding!! It makes me feel a bit sad looking at all those photos, because I feel a bit like a stranger, who was only able to browse through photographs without being there. If only I own an airplane!!!

Time flies so fast, yesterday we were walking around in a shopping mall holding each others hands (pretending we were lovers), the day before we were on the bus going to school in Putrajaya, the day before we were at school in the school choral speaking team, the day before we were getting on PakCik's bus to primary school, the day before we were children in the day care centre, the day before we were playing outside of the rented home in Gombak. My God!! It still seems unreal!

Anyhows, this quick entry is in the dedication of my sister, the only girl among us five. I wish the biggest Congratulations!! to her and her husband. For her to know that I feel the utmost happiness for her and her husband, and that we are so glad someone was actually willing to marry you!!! Hahaha..!! And to my brother in law, please take care of my sister with your best of abilities, make her happy, and please guide and teach her towards being happy now and in the Hereafter. She's very emotional at times, but she never fails to get back to being happy in a jiffy. Because that's what her name means; 'Joy'. I guess now I can say to Atok who told me "you are the one who's going to take care of your parents, your sister and brothers, no one else": I can say to her "thank God Atok! My bag is now lighter"  To both of you, may your first steps in marriage-hood be good and smooth ones, may you guys step in unity, understanding, coherence and love till the end of your lives and may you guys be able to help each other get up anytime you step on pebbles and stumble. And may babies who spring from you two be faithful and beautiful people, people who will make this world a better place in the future.

 Kalau ke laut susur gelombang, 

Jangan kemudi patah daunnya,

Kalau bertaut kasih dan sayang,

Jangan diuji dalamnya cinta,

Janganlah jangan diuji cinta 

(Joget Senyum Memikat, Siti Nurhaliza)

Can't wait to see the official photographs and videos!
Ahmad

The hidden power of smiling

Ron Gutman: The hidden power of smiling | Video on TED.com

Today is the kind of day I love. The registrar took the day off and the consultant wasn't anywhere to be found. The ward round was done by the intern and I. We went to the patients, asked them how they were going, checked their vital signs, checked that they've pooped earlier in the morning or anytime yesterday and went around smiling and waving around to the patients. Sweet. As sweet as a stolen kiss, as the Irish would say it.

The intern told me that I should go home as soon as possible and I, of course, not wanting to disappoint anyone in my team, obliged.

And so I went home early, switched the computer on and lounged around...for an hour or so. It is very nice.

Later I thought I'd have ample time to have a run before the sun sets. And so after Asr prayers, I took to the streets.

Just to inform all of you who may have never been to Gosford, the terrain here is very hilly. And so up and down I went. Until I met my arch nemesis, the hill going up to the Gosford Hospital. Usually I would just bring myself in baby steps up half the hill, and walk (with a rather comical facial expression, flaring nostrils and over enthusiastic arm swinging) up the other half.

Today however is a good day. And so I thought, I'll run up 3/4 of the hill! Good improvement for a good day! And so I ran (baby stepping still) up the hill, and around half way up the hill, my legs started to scream. Owh great, I dont know if I could do what I wanted to two seconds ago. And my pace started to fall, it was very much comparable to a drunk baby snail's.

But then I remembered this talk up here, and believing in the power of it's magic,(heeehee...) I forced a smile. You should've seen my face, it was twisted. Absolutely laughable. And I wont have anything against you for ROFL-ing at all! I was forcing myself to display my teeth to everyone who passed me in their cars. They must think I was on my way to the Psychiatric ward. But lo and behold! By the time I thought I was going to give up, and my smile was about to fade, I was already very close to the crest of the hill!! And mustering my last bits of strength to maintain a smile and keep my legs running, I made up the crest of the hill!!! *clap clap clap*. The feeling, to conquer that hill is just so great! And immediately I was in the mode: impossible is nothing! (thus this poorly planned entry and the bursts of short sentences)

So people, whenever you feel tired and everything inside you are screaming in pain, you might want to try a smile. You never know which hill it may help you climb.

Run easy
Azfar

On the man shaking in the chapel

 The content of the Friday prayer preach was on death. Given by a dear friend of mine, in the Gosford Hospital chapel, which is reserved for Friday prayers every 1.30 in the afternoon.

The text which he whizzed through was brief, cut short with the lunch time period in mind. It discussed the ever so popular topic of the questions you get asked by the angles in your grave upon your death and burial, the answer to them and the consequences of your answers on your conditions in limbo land.

For the 3 of us (half) listening to the talk, it was rather simply just a talk, a reminder that slightly tapped our souls for that period of time, bound to be forgotten upon seeing the patient waiting in the ED or the medication charts that need to be redone. A good reminder nonetheless.

After finishing the prayers, I was adamant on getting out of the chapel as quickly as possible, as I had a tutorial scheduled at two o'clock. After greeting the angels on both my shoulders, I quickly got up, stuffed my feet into my shoes and headed to the door.

I half-stormed out, nearly got to the exit when I saw a man, sitting in the chair in the furthermost corner of the chapel, slightly graying hair, in a hospital gown with a navy fleece jumper on top. He was looking down and was shaking. Visibly, coarsely shaking in his chair. I thought he must've just been there to pray, and so I thought I'll just slip in front of him in silence. When I was about to exit the chapel, he looked up, gave me the best smile he could've mustered and without prompt, he said "Sorry, I'm just here to thank God. I just had a near death experience a week ago. I died and the doctors brought me back again. Its like God doesn’t want me yet, I still have things to do here. I'm sorry, I didn’t know about this (the reserved chapel for Friday prayers).Its interesting, we're both from different religions but...."

I stood still in the doorway, one hand holding the door open,  the other not knowing what to do, caught dead in thin air. This guy has been listening to the preach. He listened, and was molested. Molested by the words, touched inside so deep, he was shaking from it.

How I wish I could have stayed with him and hear his story, my heart screamed "screw the tute! This guy needs someone to talk to"  but my head whispered "I'm late for tute, I should just say something brief and go". In the end, as always, my head got his way. I gently touched his elbow which he held close to his body, like hugging a long lost friend, and said "you take care" and went out.

The conversation had me thinking a bit while walking to tute. The gravity of his words was colossal. "I still have things to do here".

That had me thinking. When was the last time I shook at the thought of dying with my work here unfulfilled?

I wish I could elaborate more on this, but the medical course awaits. However reader dear, know that this post shall be tended to again sometime in the future. I just thought that it's been a while since I posted an entry, so this half boiled excuse on an entry shall have to do for the time.

Until I get to continue on this post, lets just all  think about what things we have to do in this world and what are our efforts at them. Not many of us are as lucky to learn the lesson of purpose through death and rebirth, but most of us are lucky enough to learn it through the experience of others. 

 "Its like God doesn’t want me yet, I still have things to do here" (The man shaking in the chapel, 2011)

You take care

Azfar

On why The Joker will never stop and the Batman should think of alternatives

And they say that a hero can save us,

I'm not gonna stand here and wait,

I'll hold on to the wings of the eagles,

Watch as we all fly away
(Hero, Chad Kroeger)

In the many years that I've lived, I've been blessed enough to meet many people who thought me, directly through their opinions and indirectly through their actions and experiences, things I have had problems with comprehending. 

I remember one day at school when a dear friend decided to ask a question to our teacher. It was a rather naughty question, which he decided to ask after some friction between the guys and the girls at school about a topic my brain couldn’t retrieve anymore. Obviously it was a rather trivial issue, if not, I think even my humble brain would be able to remember it better.  The question was "do we need to change ourselves in order to join a group?"

The answer to the question, given by Ustaz Azam after the dusk namaz was quite a good one. We were in the Al- Qadisiyah mosque, all a hundred plus of us from the 2005 class, staying at school for the big exam, SPM (Sijil Penentu Masa Depan, as a teacher of ours had once printed on the last page of a trial paper). 

He said change is like driving on the highway. You face only one direction, forwards, and you have 3 lanes. A slow lane for the more relaxed, the right lane for the fast ones who want to get to their destination with only their destination in mind, and the middle lane for the ones in between. It’s ok to choose whichever lane you would like to drive on, but you shouldn’t drive on the opposite direction, because that spells danger and death. Good...isn’t it?

Many people though find it awfully hard to change. Certainly is the case for yours truly. Because it feels better if someone could come and carry us to our destination. Like Batman who catches all the crooks and stuffs them into jail and Oprah who would have her crew clean and makeover a messed up house. But I think even Batman and Oprah would get sick of doing things for people, because they would know that these instant magical remedies are not addressing the root of the problem. So even if Batman could stuff The Joker again and again into Arkham Asylum, The Joker once out will continue to bring trouble, because he doesn’t want to change. 

Which brings me to a point. An uncle of mine once answered my cousin's honest question of "how did you stop smoking?" with a simple "I wanted to stop, and so I stopped". That quick answer probably summarized a longer one in the best of ways.  The thing you probably need most for change to happen is a clear goal. What is it that you truly want? Do you sincerely want the change that you verbalize to others or to yourself? Because if you really want it, you will get it. So when my school counselor asked me about the secret to my SPM result, I didn’t know what to answer him. Because there wasn’t a secret, there was just a goal, the will to achieve it, the effort and the faith that if you believe in God and try as hard as you can, God will not forsake you. But I guess I'll bite my tongue and say that the above was probably an oversimplification.  Because obviously we have variables in our lives, and forces outside of our control that interplay into the whole complex affecting us. As much as we would like to have complete power over our lives, we should understand that in reality, for us humans, there isn't such a thing as complete power. But we can certainly try to woo these factors into helping us to change. But that is a different story altogether, probably someone's social science thesis paper for all I know. So I shall not indulge myself in a typing frenzy for that. 

Believe me dear reader when I say that change is a cyclic process. That is what we learn from psychiatric lectures. That people are bound to relapse in the process of changing. The thing that makes a person finally change is their will and persistence, and a faith that their hard work will not go to waste. So it’s ok if you relapse and fall. You just need to know that you can rise again. If it’s too hard to rise again in that very moment, take a break, reflect and then try again. If it’s too hard to stand up by yourself, hold out your hand and ask for help. Because someone will eventually grasp your hand and help you up. Believe me.  You are worth the efforts of another.

Which brings me to another point. That is about helping people to change. I've heard again and again in dramas, both on TV and in real life, how in arguments, a person would say "you need to change. Unless you change, this is not going anywhere". Look, it’s easy to tell someone to change, and wait for them to reach their destinations by themselves.  But I think it’s more enriching and rewarding if we could hold their hands and walk with them along the way. It will tell the person that "hey! I'm here for you. I'll help you through because I care about you and I want to see you become a better person" and I believe, through personal experience that it means the whole world to them. And who knows, we probably could learn a thing or two from the journey together. So don’t be greedy people! Help each other change! Share and learn from each other! Remind in the spirit of love and brotherhood!  

Which brings me to the final point of this entry. About the power of the individual. We’ve heard again and again that change starts with you. That one person can affect the whole world. One person can send off a tsunami that can shake the whole ocean of people around them. It is possible. At least I believe so. And so if you see something that needs changing, whatever it is, you should take action to change it. And it’s ok to be the one who starts the changing. You will be amazed at how your actions will affect another person and how it can cascade and become larger until finally the change you brought will be practiced by all.  Don’t underestimate the influence you have on others, you have more power than you might think.

Easier said than done. But you'd never know until you try. So give it a try people! Set your end point, look up the road map, get into a car, drive in the lane of your choice, and get to your destination! You don’t have to wait for a hero to get you there.

Because the hero of the story is you.

Always wanted to be an X-Man

Azfar 

p.s.: Reading this before closing it just made me think about how disorganized and messed up this entry is.  Nevertheless I hope that all of us got something from reading this.  As I've constantly said, in hopes of defending my mediocrity in thinking, you've probably read this from a lot of other places with better articles but I'd like to remind myself of this anyways. As a friend of mind kindly told me when I asked them if my blog was boring "it's your blog, who gives a damn anyway?”  Anyhow I'd appreciate comments from whoever it is. As it is written up there, sharing (is supposed to) makes everything better.

On the 7 shirts that I have and the pants to go with them

I have learnt silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers. (Kahlil Gibran)

My heart can never have enough.

I mean, there's always the latest gadgets launched, the newer, funner games released, the more comfortable shoes, the warmer jackets, the clearer and bigger media screens, the bigger engined cars, the better looking pair of jeans, the wider and further zooming lens and so many other things that I need to have. If my heart could have his way, my room would've been filled with new things every week, some I may need, more, I do not.

Sadly, and quite to my relief, my financial flow would not allow this to happen. Sad, but I'm alright with that. I mean, surely it would be nice to be able to afford a new laptop when the current one hangs every 15 minutes, and its 'Enter' key dangles around threatening to rob me off my 'enter'ing rights every time I hit it with enthusiasm, or to go to Japan and New York and Istanbul to see the great cities, or to have an SLR camera to finally start following the trend or at least to have a fancy robot alarm clock to wake you up with cheer in the morning that I've wanted for 2 years now!!
http://www.thegreenhead.com/2008/09/temper-tantrum-throwing-alarm-clock.php

But it has come to my realization that I can be absolutely happy without having those things. In fact, I'd probably be happier if I decided to stop thinking about them and direct the energy to my mastication muscles to eat a bar of chocolate instead.

Frankly, I must say that during these years as a medical student on a scholarship, I have been richer than I have ever been throughout my entire life! Not rich enough to be able to afford a swanky new Mac Book Pro or the amusingly overrated IPad or to go to New Zealand or Tokyo for a 2 week trip; but I have enough to never have to go hungry, to be able to drive around in my beloved shared car, to be able to call people without having to constantly glance at the screen to see how long I've been on the line, to have 7 shirts which I could rotate and match with different pants to not appear to wear the same things to work every week, to drink good coffee at Gloria Jean's on a weekly basis and to do so many things. So many things, all at the expense of my own money.

It's a common thing to see in Facebook statuses nowadays, but I don't think I can ever remind myself of this enough.

That the fact that I am here, able to post this entry on a personal laptop, in a house (lets leave the issue of who's paying rent for this particular house aside), safe and sound, with a block of Black Forest chocolate on my side, breathing and beating in health, means that I am much more fortunate than many millions of others in this world.

And the fact that you, dear readers, are able to read this post on whatever it may be, a computer at the Uni, or your laptop or your mobile phone also means the same thing.

That God has granted us so much more in terms of facility and wealth than a lot more of the world's population.

I may not have everything that my heart desire, but I've never not have enough. And it makes life easier when I think of things that way.

So with this in mind, I'd like to thank God for firstly the faith he has granted me, for the Prophet and the message he brought to the world, for the health that I've lived in for 22 years, for my family, my brothers and sisters, for friendships, new, old, forgotten and everlasting, for mentors and teachers, for people I have met and have learned from, for knowledge and the capacity to understand, for opportunities in life, for successes and failures I have lived through, for good memories, for mistakes I have made, for clear and blue skies after a tiring day at hospital, for beautiful fishes, cute pandas and fluttering butterflies, for music and poetry and how good they are at expressing my feelings , and the list goes on. Owh and I almost forgot, for you!  dear reader who spends time reading my posts!!

Try as I might, I'll never be able to count all the favours that God has given me. It's not just my personal opinion, but wisdom from the Divine.

And if you were to count Allah's favors, you would not be able to number them; most surely Allah is Forgiving, Merciful. [Sūrah al-Nahl: 18]

Just loving it

Azfar

p.s.:

For those book lovers out there and those who read all the time, a nice quote for you:

Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing (To Kill a Mocking Bird, Harper Lee)

 

On hot gossiping with the surgeons

Throughout my several weeks experience of being a full time clinical student, I've sat with several different teams in the hospital. I've sat with the general surgeons, ENT surgeons, vascular surgeons, anesthetists and radiologists. 

And sometimes quite inevitably, you're drawn into the slimy gossiping session between members of a group although you were there just for a 2 hour session and all you do is sit around hoping to be invisible so no one would ask you questions that the answers to you knew, back when you were in second year that is.

And many of the times the topic of the discussion would be about how people from other departments are not doing justice to the people talking, who are always either the victims or heroes of the situation.

How the radiologists would have five coffee breaks before tending to your request forms, or how the surgeons always want to cut everything out plus at least one unrelated organ and how they don't know anything about medicine, how medics think too much and complicate matters, how nurses are always unnecessarily bitchy about medicine charts and would ask you to do things with an annoying fake smile, how the psychiatrists are themselves nuts and always act like they're important, when everyone knows that they'd like to be, how the samples you send to the pathologists are never enough to draw a diagnosis from, they usually want the whole organ.

The conclusion from these discussions is almost too predictable. It is: We are right, everyone else is wrong. What we do is the best, everyone else is crap. If we could have it our way, all the patients would be better looked after and everyone, ranging from the crappy people we work with to the people who aren't even born yet would be happier.

 I don't think I'm happy with whats happening here.

Because I've seen how these different people work. I've seen their dedication, their sacrifice, their passion and their efforts. All of them contribute to patient care. All of them are striving to achieve that one goal up there, to make sure the patients are, at the end of the day better than when they came in.

I'd take the risk of sounding naive and ask; isn't that what we all want?

So instead us saying "what you guys do don't work, and we know this because we've had training for years on end in what we do and we see no other way that would work best save ours and so, screw everyone else, come, join us, become one of us because when everyone is in our group, all the patients in this world would be healthier and happier"; maybe we should embrace each other and say "Thank you! Thank you for tending to the people whom I cannot reach out to, the people whom I cannot understand and cannot stand to be in the presence with, thank you for doing something that I don't think I'm capable of doing, things that I lack the skills to do, thank you for going further than I can, or closer than I can, thank you for speaking different lingos, thank you for understanding things in a different way because only then can we compare ourselves and see our mistakes. And most of all, thank you for trying to achieve what I too am trying to achieve."

That's life isn't it? We'd love to think what we do is best, but we should know that this world is quite like a hospital. There are young sick people, old sick people, teeny weeny sick people, bleeding people, people with cancer, people with colds and coughs, people who have 'pathological' thinking, people with inherited diseases, people who brought their diseases on to themselves, people who don't want to be treated, people who are difficult, people who are simply...different. Different from each other and thus need different treatments. And so there are the medics who play with drugs, surgeons with their knives, psychiatrists with their words, nurses with their hands, radiologists with their films, anesthetists with their happy serums and security with their 'guns'.

This is an absolutely personal opinion, and I would admit to it being totally arguable and flawed, but I'd like to shout it out anyways.

Instead of putting too much effort in debating who's best, we may all benefit more by actually thinking about getting to the goal together. And if people think that they like to do things in a certain way, the way they can be most comfortable in, taking a slightly different path, instead of condemning their understanding and efforts and saying what they are doing is suboptimal, maybe we should give them a pat on the back and say "hey, if you think you're comfortable with that, go for it! Coz God knows, I don't think I want to do that, so it's good that you are willing to do so.  As long as you're getting there."

They are working hard already to do what they are doing, they deserve to at least be happy with it.

"Allah x tgk result dia Allah tgk usaha kita snanye" (A friend of a friend of a friend...blablabla, date unknown) 


In support of choices and happiness
Azfar

On what its like to be beautiful

Kalau menjerat burung kedidi,
Janganlah senja baru ke taman,
Kalau memikat idaman hati,
Janganlah rupa jadi taruhan,
Janganlah jangan rupa taruhan
(Joget Senyum Memikat, Siti Nurhaliza)

I have a confession.

It may not be the most comfortable thing for me to say this, because I think its quite atypical given the circumstances that I've been brought up in and the surroundings I've been in up till now. And I know many people who would laugh at this, or would just give a semi- hearted, confused "Ay". Actually, I think most people I know would do that.

This has something to do with my preferences in people. An attraction I guess.

I like beautiful people.

There. That's it. I've said it.

Atypical much?

Let me explain.

I have, after so many years of living understood what beauty means. The epiphany came only several weeks ago, when I was in the wards, doing student stuff. And I saw this lady. I think that she's a nurse, I couldn't remember.

She was a bit plump, a bit 'mini' and probably a mother to at least 3 children. Dark skinned, with facial features of a Maori, curly black hair, which was cut short, and a glass framed spectacles dropped low on the bridge of her nose.

She is not, I must admit, the typical beauty. That is, physically she was just ordinary, like most of us. But there were things about her that were so beautiful. I didn't know why, but I kept looking at her the whole time I was in the ward. I saw how she greeted others with a cheerful hello, how she made others laugh and how her eyes twinkled when she laughed, how she bustled around the ward huffing and puffing while humming an easy tune, how she grasped the arm of a nurse that looked devastated after the death of a patient to give comfort, how she offered that fellow nurse a cup of tea to calm her down.

And mostly, I noticed the pure, sincere smile she gave a patient who just crapped himself in bed, too tired to bother about his bowels. I saw her and I thought

"Owh God, how beautiful is this lady". And, without thought, I smiled.

And so right there, in that moment in time, I understood who beautiful people are. They are people that you would never get tired of looking at. Because their nature that is so calming, soothing and comforting.  And their nature bursts out of them like rays of light, shining the people around them. And the people around them respond to them with sincerity and honesty, with so much cheer and happiness, it showed through the shine in their eyes. 

They make smiling a reflex.

It made me understand those odd couples who people shake their heads at, saying how inappropriately matched they are. A beauty and a beast, or a prince and a hag. Generally, a set of appearances at the different extremes of the spectrum. And I then thought, just because the only thing we know about them is their appearance, it doesn't give us any right to say anything. For all we know, those hags and beasts may be more beautiful than the beauty or the prince. And have you seen them princes nowadays? Many of them are just a bunch of fat, lazy, corrupted and broken human beings. Nothing to look up to if you're lucky enough to not have to look at how high those noses are. 

And so I can't tell you what its like to be beautiful, not just yet. I don't think I make people smile on reflex. Not just yet.

But I do know some people who have that affect on me. And I believe that I'm going to find many more from now on. And when I find them, I'll learn from them. On how to be beautiful.

P/S: enjoy this music video. I think there are many beautiful people in there

Prayers for you dear reader, to be and always stay beautiful.
Azfar

“Allah does not look at your figures, nor at your attire but He looks at your hearts [and deeds].” (A man many miss even though they've never met him, several centuries ago)

Where'd I go?

Hey hey people!

The question up there really isn't a rhetoric one. I seek to answer it now.

Yes, my blog has come to a complete stand still for the past 7 weeks. My reason is one, studies.

Yes, lame, yes, quite predictable, yes, boring.

But that is it. For the past several weeks I have been living a surreal reality. I've been waking up and getting ready for the hospital for morning rounds which started early in the morning (God and people living with me know that me waking up early for anything save going out somewhere for leisure is next to impossible), and had (imaginative?) friction with some people and had also several clinical mishaps happening all during those weeks . And at the end of those days, I was feeling so exhausted that when the clock strikes 9 at night, my eyes went all red and watery and I was pretty much ready for bed. Except that I wouldn't go to bed because I had to read to try and catch up with the syllabus. That was the first time I felt so tired in so many years. So unhappy in so many years.  I'm glad its over, and I'm glad I passed!  =)
So yes, my clinical exposure to surgery has just resulted in me crossing surgery out of the list for my career options. So my registrar's laugh when he heard us say our rotation is for 6 weeks and he said "hah, enough time to corrupt your minds" ends up unheeded, by me at least.

I think I like surgery, its quite straight forward, but the people (the surgeons!!! but of course there are always exceptions), the workload, the hours! Its impossible to live happy!

I've been thinking a lot lately and I think its safe to say that I've got some entries coming up soon. 1 on something general, 1 on friendship and 1 on brotherhood.

I'm so excited!!!!!! How about you?!

The Power of Vulnerability

Brene Brown: The power of vulnerability | Video on TED.com

Someone told me to look up this talk. And I myself has been very interested in knowing about this the very first time I laid my eyes on the title.

Being vulnerable, maybe its the way to go. To not have to be perfect all the time, to not numb and neglect our feelings and pretend that they don't exist. To not have to be tough and suck it up, however hard and bitter it tastes. To not think that what we do don't affect others and what others do don't affect us.

Its not the coolest thing to do. Its not the brawnier nor the tougher thing to do. It certainly won't appear as heroic to others who read, talk and listen about us.

But it is the more human and easier thing to do. And what are our heroes but  human?

The hardest thing and the right thing is the same? Feel again.

Peace is fun
Azfar

On who God would run to

The concept of secrets is a delusional one.

That's a facebook status that I uploaded several weeks ago (it seems). To the successful and highly celebrated 'like's of 2 people. Awesome.(I think I need to think of better ways to articulate my facebook status messages, I often grow envious towards a cousin of mine who seems to always have witty and deep things to say about anything, may it only be about the cat napping in the house.)

A chat through YM triggered this entry today. I was chatting with a school mate who was alone in a hospital ward with an infection, just asking each other how things are...normal, usual stuff I guess. A friend whom courage, persistence and sense of faith I hugely admire, especially after seeing many challenges that this person had to go through during these recent years.

The conversation (after clarifying that the hospital offers good service with good handsome doctors) then somehow came to me (quite unnecessarily) telling them that several days ago I complained to another person about how I have given up on expecting from people. How the fear of unfulfilled expectations is good enough a reason for me to not expect much from the people around me.

Dear reader, know that this is not healthy and in many ways wrong, especially since all of us probably have symbiotic relations with many people, whether we like it or not.

And after complaining of this, I thought, while it is not okay to continue living like this, it is probably alright to have it as something temporary. Just  like chewing gum, temporary, fruity, minty sweetness. Fun to chew and soft and makes you look cool. Until you realize that its not sweet anymore and you have to spit it out because the feeling of it hard and dry in your mouth brings about a background discomfort that you'd rather live without, and your face depicts that of a  disagreeing subordinate, reserved and afraid of humiliation, too afraid to speak up to his superior. Which means really (back to the I'm too good by myself attitude), that you and people around you wont like it after a while.

And after complaining, this friend of mine said that maybe that's what special about believing in God (being a muslim specifically). While you are afraid that people would present to you only disappointment, God will never fail you.

And believing in God means that you believe that you are never alone, and your secrets and worries really are known by another. Which means, a secret is impossible and thus thinking on the contrary is delusional.  

In saying that there really is no such thing as a secret in this world, I believe that maybe, if we think that its impossible for us to talk to another about our secrets and concerns, we might need to think again. Because God knows! and acting like God doesn't, is just like saying you don't feel like drinking a cold glass of water in a mid, 41 degrees summer day.

And since God knows already, maybe we should share more with him. Consciously I mean. To confess and talk about our problems and ask for guidance and solutions to them openly. To lay ourselves verbally bare and naked, to let ourselves hear the truth that we are afraid of being heard, even by ourselves.

And you have the advantage of doing that whilst knowing that He probably wouldn't judge you as He knows your circumstances better than you do. And that He is in fact listening to you, even the faintest whisper in your little heart. And He'd understand, and He'd know that you are trying hard to change, and He would've heard the sorrowful cry of remorse from your heart when you'd fall into relapse.

He is Most Understanding.

So, maybe we should ask from God more frequently and more openly. Ask for everything, everywhere, all the time.

I mean, what have both of you got to lose?

"Allah the Exalted said, `O son of Adam! If you mention Me to yourself, I will mention you to Myself. If you mention Me in a gathering, I will mention you in a gathering of the angels (or said in a better gathering). If you draw closer to Me by a hand span, I will draw closer to you by forearm's length. If you draw closer to Me by a forearm's length, I will draw closer to you by an arm's length. And if you come to Me walking, I will come to you running" (The greatest man who ever lived, a long long time ago)

On what Goldilocks may have forgotten

None of you [truly] believes until he wishes for his brother what he wishes for himself.(Prophet Muhammad pbuh, sometime after he turned forty)

 
I've been thinking a lot about how to start this entry but for some reason my imaginative and constantly drama seeking mind doesn't seem to work that well today.

I figured that maybe I should just write, with or without a melodramatic and poetic narrative opening, especially since I'm not currently occupied with academics (though my little heart knows I should be).

Several days ago I had a long chat with a person whom I am extremely fond of. One of the inspirations for this blog. We talked about lots of things. Our lives, the start of the new year, how last year was, how we hope this year will go and even some deeply emotional, challenging events and experiences that even though separate for both of us, the understandings towards them is quite similar. In the midst of the conversation, rather accidentally I suppose, we came to the topic I'm writing about this time.

Mind you this is not an entry to praise anyone in particular, just that I feel the need to share this somewhat common concept with everyone. At the end of this entry, you may well just leave with  "Owh, I didn't know it had a name !" but I certainly hope that we can all learn a lesson from it.      

Have you ever felt, that other people are not fair towards you? That you try hard to accommodate to everyone else while others don't really seem to take that much of an effort to return your generosity? That you laugh rather unnecessarily loudly at a lame joke your otherwise quite friend had just told, or you clean up the dishes after a friend 'forgot' to clean up theirs, that you took time to cook a nice bowl of rice porridge for your friend who was down with fever, that you fold your friend's laundry after you've picked them up just before it started to pour, that you prepare a huge surprise birthday party for a fellow friend...even though it  seems that no one else really bothered to do the same for you?

I believe, that you, dear reader, probably have felt that way before. If not a little, a lot of times. And you probably have, at any time of your life undertook some great endeavor to please someone even when you knew, somewhere deep in your heart, that your efforts may not be returned to you the way that you would have liked it. You stay positive though, because it keeps you going.

You try your best for the other person because if that 'other' is you, you would have loved what you have done for yourself. (Haha this is so confusing). Its not that you actually expect anything in return (although I must admit, it would be nice), but you just feel that if you are on the receiving end, you would really like it.

If this is the case, you probably believe in and clutch tightly onto the Golden Rule. An ethical code that in principle demands that you do unto others what you would like to be done to yourself.

The Golden Rule is as you might expect, contained or assimilated into many religions and philosophical creeds since a very very long time ago. I think it is simply because us humans, in nature, choose not to hurt others. That our essence, as human beings is to submit to the command of God, that is to love others and be good to them.

The Golden Rule is really a manifestation of great empathy and understanding of others and yourself. And also about yourself willing to take the extra effort to make sure at least someone (if not both of you) is happy with what you do for them. And this would apply greatly to all aspects of our lives. Example being,
- you smile at the cash register lady and ask them how their day is going when you see them bagging your groceries in sadness because you would like someone to ask you about how you are when you display signs of sadness
-  listening to a person's problem although its long winded and cracked up because you know how comforting the occasional nods and 'hmms' of someone listening to yours are. And sharing your problems with them too, to reciprocate the understanding that its okay to be vulnerable and trust someone with your problems. 
-  waking someone up with relentless gentle nudges because you hate to be woken up harshly and you would hate it if someone didn't wake you up at all
- teaching a person something to your best of efforts and knowledge, because you yourself would like to learn only from the best (refer to a previous entry for this)
- buying a present for a friend that you would really like for yourself
and I'm sure that you clever readers know a lot more examples to the Golden Rule. You probably practice it every day.

This concept really is not a matter of impossible empathy and ridiculous self sacrifice, and thus it is hugely disappointing to see that less and less people are practicing it nowadays. I mean, just walk around in a huge city or better yet, drive around a huge city and you'll see what I mean.

The thing is, people seem to think that surviving involves only the safety of themselves personally, that the wants of others can be sacrificed just as long as what they themselves desire is cleared and safe. And its a sad thing really, because if they survive by themselves, what will they survive to? Who, will they survive to? Wouldn't it be better if everyone sacrificed a bit of themselves so that everyone survives? It's really like Goldilocks and the three bears. Goldilocks uses up everything she can, neglecting the owners of the beds and the porridge and finally Goldilocks literally wakes up to being the main course meal for the bears (well I'm sure this is not the real version, but I have always thought of it that way after I first read the story). 

So I, herein invite everyone of us to practice the Golden Rule to our best of efforts. Because from my point of view, it is contentment in itself to see those smiling faces. And as I've said before (in a previous entry), no one else, save your Lord and you, may know about it, but I believe that is always good enough.

I'm sure this has been, an "of course...that's obvious man ! what are you writing about? are you expecting people to say that you are wise just because you're stating the obvious?" read for you, dear reader. However I believe that constant reminding of ourselves about these obvious things is indeed necessary because us, being humans tend to always neglect the more obvious and readily available things in life. We tend to prefer looking for and remembering the more queer and rarer things.

I mean, why choose chocolate ice cream when the flavour of the week is available only during this week... right?

Peace
Azfar