Dear Lecturer

I've been thinking about writing this post for quite some time, so here it comes.

Dear lecturer,
First of all, I want you to know that you are awesome. No, seriously. This is not me trying to kiss your butt up. I do find you awesome (and I know almost everyone in our class thought the same). I think you're aware that you're awesome, but I just need to let you know what I (we) think about you.

I'm always fascinated by smart people. Not just academic smart nor street smart; just smart in general. Like, people who actually think and utilize their brain. I aspire to be one someday. I kinda aspire to be like you, someday. You are that awesome.

I'm kind of confused though. Why do I get the sense that you think we hate you? I hate to think that I know what other people think, but here it comes. Every time you talk to us, both during good and bad times, I feel like you're kind of cornering us to say that yes, you are an awful lecturer. You declare yourself as the bitchy lecturer who force us to read the materials. Truth is, YOU ARE FREAKING NOT. Yes, at times your words can be harsh, but we can bear with it. We may not cry in joy when you point out that we have to read this and do that, but that doesn't mean we hate it. Do you know how much we (I) love getting new knowledge from you? Do you know how enlightened we(I) feel after leaving your class? Do you know how much we(I) like to refer to what you taught us in class? (Though this is against your standpoint, we should refer to the reading materials. But oh well...we're still learning, after all, so pardon us please? :P But I assure you, we're trying here.) We see your point and your good intentions and we're grateful for it. We don't hate you. We like you, we like the way you teach, we like the subject you teach, we're grateful for the knowledge you share. We may not show it, we're not perfect students, but yes, we, in general, we like you (cos love is such a heavy word). So please, don't ever think that we hate you when in fact, we like you so very much. 

(anyway, I said earlier how I hate to think that I know what other people think then I accused you right after. I totally see the irony. Duh me.)

Moving on.

I owe you an apology. Sometimes I forget that despite all your awesomeness, you're just a human being like us. Sometimes I forget that you're not a robot; you also have feelings. Sometimes I let my admiration to you cloud my judgement of you. I did, more than once, thought that such an awesome, open minded person like you should never, ever, act or talk in the way that you did. I forgot that you are human. You, I, us, we all are fluid. We feel what we feel.

I hope you don't find my (our) admiration to you as a burden. 

It broke my heart when you offered us to switch lecturer. I immediately asked myself; am I really that bad of a student? Then I thought, no. I'm not a bad student. I'm not a perfect student either, but definitely not a bad student. I prepare for your class (though I don't always get it), I never came late, I don't play with my gadgets (well, sometimes I swipe over the screen for a quick look but that's it I can't help), I speak my thoughts in class, I ask question though not always (and not a very good question, too). I'm definitely not a good student, but I am, not in any way, a bad student.

You once said that you accept us for the way we are, and in return, we have to accept you for who you are. Couldn't agree more. 

I think what we need is just...a thorough, meaningful, conversation. Communicate our feelings. I think. I think. I think once we get to see where each other stand...I think, I think. I think we'll do just fine. I think we'll get along. I think.

I know what happened last week was bad. I know what he did (I refuse to address it as a group's action) totally upset you. I understand. But I would like, very much, for you to not put aside the other 29 kids in the class who already prepared to come to your class. I understand you don't want to treat us differently. I understand your good intention, I really do. I just would like very much for you to not overlook us who really want to learn from you.

I am such a demanding student, I know. 

Pink

Pink is my identity.
My philosophy of pink: it is soft, sweet, bubbly, yet strong and present. A mix of boldness and purity. Eye-candy but has a firm presence.

Exactly what I want to be.

Eulogy

For she who left her imprints on the wind,
And he whose heart is taken away
As she never thought that this is the way
Their bond must come to mind;
As it is ending.
As the last air fade away
As the bond made by the ring;
Loses its glow and decay.

And he never thought
That love could be so cold
When she does not exist in the world
Anymore

Hypocrisy much?

Preacher.

I have learned the hard way that it is best not to argue with them about anything, let alone religion matters. They are preachers; they're shaped that way. Arguing with them won't give me any good anyway, so I learned to just bear with it. But this one thing really bothers me.

As I grew older, I realize that more and more people around me have come closer to their God; they become more and more religious as the day goes by. I don't really know what caused that; we're all in our 20s. Americans, in this case my American friends, do not get into that phase though. Well, maybe they weren't all that religious before, but so did many of my friends. Maybe it's the culture. I don't know, maybe.

As for me, I have my own relationship with my Creator, which I will not reveal in this post. It is extremely personal for me and I intend to keep it that way. But in general, I have never been a strong follower in practicing the rituals in my religion. Though, I believe it does not correlate with my beliefs; what I fundamentally believe in. I just don't practice the practical, that is all. One might think that it is impossible to truly devoted to the religion if one leave out the practical, but for me the level of relationship between God and His creation can not be defined in such a narrow view. It is extremely personal and intimate area in a human's life that can never really be measured.

In my 20s, of course, the topic of marriage and wedding has come around to the table. Quite often, actually. My girl friends and I often wander off to those topics; from our dream husband until motherhood; from dating place to (our) future kids education. Such topics never really exist when we were back in High school and for me it's almost like a wake up call. You're a grown up now. Time to really, really think about getting your life together.

Anyway, back to religion. As most of my friends are quite religious now, I realized that it is also affecting their view on marriage and finding a life partner. Girls want guys who would be their Imam, leading the prayers before them. Guys want a shalehah girls, who would be devoted to their husband and their family. In this writing I want to point out the second, how guys are now craving for shalehah bride.

There is nothing wrong with it, of course. Totally understandable, after all who wouldnt want a devoted wife? One that is devoted to God, to her husband, and to her future children. One that knows how to carry a graceful manner, speaks softly, glowing face and smile, a feminine, delicate flower. Wearing hijabs and covering her body curves. A pure flower that is reserved to just one man. Oh yes, we can see why the idea is so tempting for men. Especially those who know how a devoted wife could be a way to get closer to their God, as a good man who can lead his family to the goodness in life is truly blessed and relatively has a good chance to go into Jannah. I don't know what the verses from the Qur'an are, but that is generally the idea.

I am so angry at this concept of perfect wife.

Oh please. Spare me the hypocrisy. Do not tell me that you guys all want a shalehah woman. What you guys want are beautiful woman that happens to be shalehah or the other way around. The point is, physical beauty still plays a huge part for men in making decision which one of the women they're about to get married to. And I find that such a hypocrisy. How dare you wish for a shalehah woman with a beautiful features. A really beautiful concept of shalehah is being collaborated with the shallow, artifical perception of beauty.

When there are two shalehah women being compared. With the same level of devotion to God, the same gracious manner, the same kind heart, over all have a similar quality. The one thing that is going to separate them from being some man's wife is now who is the better looking between them.

It is understandable. I want to say it is natural, but the fact is I don't know. But I can understand if a man chooses the more attractive one to be his bride. It leaves me feeling devastated, though.

If in the end, if your physical look is what matters...then why even bother? Why pretend like beautiful is not a major factor for a man? Why the hypocrisy? Why are you putting up shalehah as one of the traits, yet acting like putting up physical beauty would make you shallow when in fact yes it matters to you!

Beauty is relative, they say. Maybe not so much. There are standard of beauty. I am talking physical here, because I think inner beauty is a complete bullsh*t. It's an excuse, a treat to help one feel better about themselves.

In the end, what's going to happen then for the inattractive shalehah women?

This writing may seem...jumpy? I wrote it in my phone and it's annoying so I can't really explore my thoughts. Overall this is kind of a rant I'm having after seeing someone's post.

And men, please grow up.

Why can't we all

just sit around and smell the rotten roses?

bathing in the luxury of the living;

....especially the part which confirm our humanity...

                   the chance to be a broken one.

to feel how painful it is to breathe and not living;
         to savor the invisible bleeding in our skin
                  to walk the thin line between life and not a life
                        to be moot.

Fragile.

There are times when we just feel so fragile. So vulnerable. A simple blow of wind could knock you off. Making you wither and shiver. Sending a longing signal to your lonely brain. Forming a sharp thought of happiness that manages to tear you apart and leave you bleeding to your death.

Being a ghost, I imagine, must be a lot like feeling fragile. You are transparent. You have no real power. Don't even bother to try to reach for help when you know they can barely hear you.

Because you. are. a. ghost.

Your fragility does that to you.

Because when you're hurting

You are being reminded of your own humanity.

Of your own weak flesh.

Of your thick blood running in veins.

Of your soft skin grazing the air.

Of your lungs full of relief.

Of your heart beating in sync.

Of your brain muttering in silence.

Of your very existence on the surface of the Earth.

Beads of pearl.

...just ran down my cheek.

Over something inexplainable.

A melted pot of anger, jealousy, hatred, selfish wanton, ego, and loneliness.

Trapped.

It begins down there. Bubbling, stirring. In the depth of your gut.

When joy starts to drifting away, you have to grasp onto a surface.

When the surface starts to crumble, probably you need to grip it harder. Keep it together.

And when you're tired, you should be able to let go.

Because to let go is to be humane.

I feel like I'm drowning.

Mellow Melody

As I laid my head upon my pillows, I couldn't help but thinking;

How are you doing there?
Are you fine?
Don't be stressed out.
Have I crossed your mind today?

The Mind is A Multi Faced Bit*h

Have you ever felt betrayed by your own mind?

I have.