organised chaos

A few days back, Lutfi asked me this question:

“Say you’ve been assigned to conduct a CSI in a suspect’s house. Where would you look to get an idea of what the suspect has been recently up to?”

Before I could answer, Luqman interjected with “Check his Facebook status?”

We had a good snort over that one, although on a serious note, I think his answer is not that far-fetched, considering we’re at the height of social networking at the moment. How long will this last do you think?

(The answer is dust bin, by the way.)

Enough said here.

This is beautiful.

I spent the 3 day weekend doing all things unrelated to work, and although there will be hell to pay later this week, for once I don’t care. Every minute was spent in all things domestic, family and community-related and I feel wonderful. I’ve discovered I have little patience for Facebook these days, which is liberating, in a way.

I was at a mosque last Sunday after we sent my sister back to her campus. Sitting on the lined carpet after prayers, I was struck by how much I missed being able to just lean against the cool wall of a masjid and listen to the Imam speak, as I did as a student back in uni. It has this effect that fills in all the gaping holes within yourself, wraps you up like a warm blanket around your cold soul.

I know I need to slow down. I’m trying hard to get a grasp on things, before eventually gaining control Insya Allah. That’s the plan anyway. I don’t know how I fooled myself into thinking that more time at the office meant more productivity. I suppose I felt like I had something to prove, but now I’m recognising that I need to readjust my pace. At the same time though, I want no compromise on the quality of work I’m required to deliver, so it’s going to be a little tricky. I’ll get there though, Insya Allah. You will pray for me, won’t you?

I found this lovely poem over the weekend; how it speaks to me right now.

Love After Love by Derek Walcott

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Enough said here.

Currently Playing: The Perishers - Trouble Sleeping.

It used to be that I’d spend more time writing than actually living.

Then it was having too much to do, so I’d escape here to talk about other things rather than think about all that had to be done.

Now I don’t even have that kind of luxury any more. Now it’s life racing ahead of me and every day is a battle trying to keep up. Hidup sekarang rasa macam sentiasa tercungap-cungap. And when I wake up in the morning, I can’t even remember how or when I slept in the first place. Lets not talk about resting and reflection - I schedule those in when I can, and then I time myself. I don’t have time to think, or time to even panic when everything becomes overwhelming. I just hyperventilate periodically throughout the day, and then move on. I wish I could write something a little bit more stimulating, for example perhaps on the latest ruling on the “Allah” ban, but I can’t even do that because I haven’t read enough to give a qualified opinion on the issue. Life moves too fast for me to stop.

- it’s day to day living that wears you out.” - Anton Chekov.

Enough said here.

Have you ever worked so hard that tears involuntarily come out, even when you’re not crying?

It is impossible that Allah isn’t helping me get through this.

How I know this is because nothing on the face of this Earth can help save me from falling into a pit of despair.

And yet despite how my bones scream, how my pulse throbs, and how my veins feel like they’re going to explode, I’m still hopeful and I can still get on with it. I’m strong enough to still function, (albeit a little on the mad side).

All that strength has to come from somewhere.

No one else but Him.
Enough said here.

Currently Playing: The Black Atlantic - Reverence For Fallen Trees

On New Year’s Eve 2 days ago, The Boss (the one in the office, not at home) went around our tables to wish us a Happy New Year before he went home. Everyone else had already left; it was supposed to have been a half-day, but since there’s a hearing up coming up this Monday, and another client is pushing for advice, we had to stay back to work on it. If you think about it, considering the usual time I go home, 5.30pm IS half-day.

But anyway.

The Boss asked my friend and I where the party was going to be that night.

I presume he assumed we were going to go out.

Oh at home, I replied.

He stared at me for a bit with this incredulous expression.

“Wow, how sad.”

I was incredulous.

“I’ll be with my family,” I insisted.

He just smiled.

And it made me think about supposedly significant days and how people celebrate them. These days it’s so predictable that it takes a bit of an effort to not roll my eyes whenever someone suggests booze and music. I think we can be a bit more creative than that.

Just because I’m young and like to have the occasional fun doesn’t mean I need to go to a party to have a good time. And just because my celebrations are a little quieter does not make them any less explosive, if only internally. A New Year is always an apt time for reflections, but personally my New Year was Awal Muharram. Let’s just roll with this one for the Gregorian calendar’s sake, shall we?

On New Year’s Eve, I worked til evening with a friend before we called it a day. This time last year, I was still a university student, trying to predict what on Earth would be the job prospects of such an impossibly distracted creature such as myself. Now I can count my blessings Alhamdulillah. It was also this time last year when Gaza was pounded non-stop by the Israeli forces. I’ll always remember how ironic a friend and I found it, that fireworks should be lighting up our skies while bombs flew down theirs.

Later that night, I went to Widaad’s house for a little get-together and barbecue. It was a small gathering, but the company was wonderful, with Murni there whom I hadn’t seen in months and of course the lovely Daad who lives not 10 minutes away from me, yet we barely get to see each other because our schedules always clash. Daad’s other friends were there as well, and chatting is easy when people are nice.

That was my ‘party’, and my ‘booze’ was fresh lemonade. It was incredibly spirit-uplifting, and even better that I could drive myself home with no painful hangover the next day.

I went home in time to see the countdown on the telly, and even after the clock struck midnight, I was indifferent. Greeting 2010 really didn’t have that much of a bearing on me, I suppose. It still doesn’t.

As I said, New Year is an apt time for reflections for the year before.

I’ve discovered I only completed reading 11 books in 2009, and am now on my 1st for 2010. Maybe instead of counting the number of books, I should start counting the number of pages I finish. Jostein Gardner’s Sophie’s World and Jodi Picoult’s Perfect Match are quite thick to digest in a short time; it’s quite an accomplishment that I finished them at all. (By the way, don’t bother with Perfect Match - Picoult fails in it, in my opinion.)

I’d continue to examine other things I may or may not have improved on or accomplished in 2009, but it’s very late, I’m tired, and class begins at 9 tomorrow before I go back to the office to prepare for the blasted hearing.

There is one thing that warrants a mention though.

I’ve noticed that I’ve grown accustomed to swearing a lot at home now. Not that F-word; it’s the tamer S-word, but it’s become so habitual to say it when I’m angry that I’m becoming the worst role model as the eldest. My siblings were first shocked when they heard me say it; now that it’s become so frequent they silently reprimand me with their eyes. I can’t bear that look. I’ve also noticed that I tend to snap a lot easier now and it’s a harder battle to control my temper.

I don’t want my work to turn me into this. I don’t.

I’m sure there’s a perfectly good way to not be this high-strung person I’ve become, always paranoid when the phone rings and checking emails even when away on holiday. There’s got be a way to address work in a calmer fashion, and to bring down my blood pressure a few notches down.

I don’t really have a resolution for 2010, only a wish.

A wish for more time.

More time to rectify my mistakes, to beg pardon for my sins, to pray my deeds are accepted.

More time for my family and friends.

More time for deeper conversations and stronger connections.

More time to catch up with news and current events.

More time for reading pleasures.

More time for long walks.

More time for breathtaking moments.

More time to look for new, undiscovered music, and to enjoy them.

More time to listen.

More time to observe.

More time to think.

More time to laugh.

More time to travel.

To be lost and to find my way back again.

And more time to start exercising again. And when I mean exercise, it doesn’t include running around court. It might help in bringing that BP down.

Have a promising year, everyone.

Enough said here.

ps. The Black Atlantic is my latest find. If you’re into slow accoustics, come, ambik ni, pegi main jauh-jauh.

I’ve been falling asleep before Isya’ these past few days, and Luqman’s been having a hoot trying to wake me up to pray, mainly because of the things I say in my semi-conscious state. Yes, I’ve gone back to talking in my sleep again.

The first time he tried, he told me that I pushed him away and said: “We are the plaintiffs, it’s the defendant’s job to enter appearance, not us! Don’t worry about it.” Then I went back to sleep.

Which was weird, yes.

The other time he tried shaking me awake, I told him to make an appointment and muttered something about the Employment Act.

Right now, these little incidents don’t surprise me any longer. I’ve only been back from my break less than a week, and already my nerves are fraying and my hair has started falling out again.

I can do this I can do this I can do this

This mantra doesn’t seem to work for me these days.

Astaghfirullah..

Prayers are much welcomed.

Enough said here.

To my fellow brothers and sisters of the Deen:

When asked “What is Islam?” Shaykh Muzaffer replied, “Islam is everything beautiful.”

I reread this again tonight, thought it’d be a nice share, and a good start to the week. It was once said that Muslims today don’t deserve Islam. Prove this saying wrong.

Islam is beautiful, so be beautiful for Islam.

Enough said here.

Currently Playing: Nat King Cole - Quizás, Quizás, Quizás

I’ve got that Sunday night feeling, and all effects of having gone on holiday is slowly wearing off, largely owing to the fact that I’ve just spent the last 3 days spring-cleaning my butt off at home. This song is helping ease the dread of going back to work tomorrow though, and this tea tastes quite good.

If you didn’t know that spring-cleaning can be a taxing exercise, it is in my household. My parents are clean freaks, and if a spot isn’t removed, you don’t move from your spot til the spot’s removed. Geddit? Yeah, lawak yang sangat lame because right now I’m so tired I feel like picking off all my limbs and soaking them in a tub of hot water (rasa macam pernah je guna ayat ni).

To make things worse, I didn’t know that going on a jet-ski and having your body thrown about due to choppy waves would mean waking up to a very sore body the next day. I’ve been aching all over since Thursday, and it’s getting a bit ridiculous. Every step I take sends a sharp pain to my feet (like Hans Christian Andersen’s mermaid when she turned human) and I’ve been waking up with my bones throbbing for the past few mornings. I hope this doesn’t last; I’m back in my heels and lugging files around in 6 hours’ time.

I think you would’ve been able to guess from my last post that the so-called ‘undisclosed location’ was none other than Penang. Alhamdulillah, sans the non-stop house-scouring project, all events prior had its intended relaxing effect. My family, we’re usually an adventurous bunch when we go on vacation, every day always jampacked with activities with Abah spearheading everything, but last week was more of a recuperating period. Lagipun Abah wasn’t really on holiday; he had a Global Higher Education Forum thing to attend. The rest of us just tagged along.

My youngest brother was complaining about the lack of exploring the island, and I was a little miffed we didn’t get to see Fort Cornwallis. Abah kept on nagging at us for not going out more and said we should be doing more with our holiday, but Ummi said it didn’t matter what we did, as long as we were doing what we wanted, and that included not doing anything at all. That’s the point of a holiday. I liked that idea, and even if you could do nothing at home at no expense, a change of scene does do wonders.

Ummi says the time we had away from home and all the duties that came with it was the only time she could sit and hear herself think. I can understand that.

I’m on the edge right now, about to jump back into crazy again, starting tomorrow. Alhamdulillah for the time away, I think it’s helped me refocus on my direction and get back in touch with myself. I didn’t realise I’ve had all my senses blunted to the state of near numbness until I saw the sea, and a weight suddenly lifted. I’d been subconsciously carrying that weight around without my noticing. It felt good to feel again, and I mean really feel. I hope that memory keeps me moving for a long while.

I’m not sure what to expect tomorrow, but I’m already on a deadline for something so that’s first on the agenda. Work’s work, it’s no big deal really. It’s just fun to complain sometimes (unless I’m really pissed). I’ll write more about the experience one of these days. Lutfi also starts his summer job tomorrow, so we’ll be commuting together daily now for the next couple of months. I hope that goes alright Insya Allah.

Lets just get back to it, come what may.

(First though, I need to find a way to stop aching.)

Have a good week ahead, ya’ll!

Enough said here.

I’m home safe and sound, Alhamdulillah.

It’s hard to imagine that around this time last night, I was outside staring up at a sky graced with more stars than I can ever hope to see when I’m in the city. I had had a late night scalding shower after a midnight walk around the flea market near the place where we were staying, and was nicely bundled up, smelling nice and feeling cosy. Knowing that moments like this don’t come by often, I decided to step out on the balcony for a bit to take in what would likely be the last night of real tranquility before I go back to the hectic city life.

It was incredible, a truly Subhanallah moment. All my senses came alive.

I could smell the salt from the sea in the air, hear the waves crashing into the beach below. A light breeze kept the temperature cool. There was a lighthouse in the far distance, its beam sweeping around. Other than that visible activity, everything else was still, save for the swaying palm leaves.

And that was when I looked up.

It literally made me fall back into the chair behind me. I stared and gazed and tried to take it all in as much as I could. I stayed out for so long that eventually I fell asleep outside.

It’s amazing how a lit-up sky winking back at you can make you feel so small and insignificant. It clears your head, soothes your mind, fills your heart and gives you breathing space. It makes you aware of so many things, like how vast the universe really is, how strange it is that you’re staring at the same sky you see every day back home and yet feel so different, how mind-boggling it is that you should be sharing the same stars with so many other people when it feels as though they’re shining just for you.

You’re reminded of more important things too. You come to see that it’s not all about you, that the world doesn’t exist just for you alone. There are far bigger events with deeper meanings that you need to wake up to. That I need to wake up to.

My family and were talking about life after death over breakfast yesterday morning, when my youngest brother asked if we would be meeting each other on Judgment Day. I said we’d be too preoccupied with worrying over whether our own deeds would be enough. He said he knew that, but he wanted to know whether families would be able to live together if they all received Jannah. We said yes, Insya Allah.

It makes you look at your family in a different light, doesn’t it?

Would we see them again on the other side? Would we be able to recognise each other? Are we all of us good enough for that? We always take it for granted that we’ll enter Paradise on the basis of being Muslim alone, but really how do we know for sure? Islam isn’t just a noun; it’s a verb.

I’ve come to see that stars make me ponder more, beyond the shallow superficial shell I’ve been reduced to in the past few months.

What a lovely gift from Allah SWT to end the year.

Speaking of Stars
By my brother, Lutfi
16th December 2009, Penang.

It is now 1st Muharram 1431H.

Alhamdulillah that we’re still here to greet it.

I believe that every day/night we get through alive is a second chance from Him to set things right again.

All that I said at the beginning of last year still applies.

May I be better for it, Ameen.

A blessed Awal Muharram, dear readers.

Enough said here.

Ps-Incidentally enough, this entry marks my 500th post. What a long way I’ve come.