I've been receiving SMS from friends (Malaysia and Egypt), that commented on my blog. Eh, kau ni nak guna Inggeris ke Melayu dalam blog kau ni? Macam takde pendirian je.
I laughed. I don't have pendirian? Sure I do! This blog, I'm going to use multiple languages. It's not a crime anyway, is it?
[laugh]
The Bloglord
- Mior Khabir Zikri
- Author, blogger, comic freak, designer, editor, gamer, hermit, photographer, reader, student, teacher, traveler, writer.
30 Jun 2007
29 Jun 2007
Han (arabic version)*
*Han, arabic version, has been submitted to Suara Kampus Edisi Kelantan, vol. 39
27 Jun 2007
It Just Keeps Getting Hotter
I looked at the weather meter on Yahoo! Messenger. Cairo, Egypt- lowest: 25, highest: 41. And it's in Celcius, I must note.
Last night, I had a terrible nasal problem. I just couldn't breath smoothly at the nose. I kept blowing and blowing and blowing my nose, and the end result; nosebleed. I quickly went to the toilet after taking along my handkerchief. Moments later, the piece was blood-stained.
This morning, when I woke up, I suddenly realized that I was having a bad cold. It was terrible. Could you imagine breathing one whole day with your mouth? Of course it includes inhaling and exhaling!
That was really mental. But thank God, it was just for a while. It's getting better at this moment.
Last night, I had a terrible nasal problem. I just couldn't breath smoothly at the nose. I kept blowing and blowing and blowing my nose, and the end result; nosebleed. I quickly went to the toilet after taking along my handkerchief. Moments later, the piece was blood-stained.
This morning, when I woke up, I suddenly realized that I was having a bad cold. It was terrible. Could you imagine breathing one whole day with your mouth? Of course it includes inhaling and exhaling!
That was really mental. But thank God, it was just for a while. It's getting better at this moment.
26 Jun 2007
Friendster? No More
I have tasted the sweet and sour of being in some websites, signing up in them, updating pages after pages, here and there, and so on. Preferrably Friendster. But nah, it doesn't make any sense to people like me to be in there.
Why?
Well, Friendster no longer captures my attention. I have, as well, deleted my account, so if anyone ever wants to enter my profile, get ready to be disappointed, ya!
p/s: I meant no offense to you Friendster users, okay?
Why?
Well, Friendster no longer captures my attention. I have, as well, deleted my account, so if anyone ever wants to enter my profile, get ready to be disappointed, ya!
p/s: I meant no offense to you Friendster users, okay?
22 Jun 2007
Forgetful :-?
I don't know. Something inside me is changing with the flow of time. Yes, I feel alive. But I feel a bit forgetful. I tend to forget some things these days; my extra classes, important people's birthday dates, many more. And oh, I sometimes tend to forget what I say to people, even just now. Yes. Now wait a sec. What did I just say?
19 Jun 2007
Tahniah buat bakal pelajar Madinah!
Saya ingin ucapkan sekalung tahniah kepada tiga orang sahabat seperjuangan saya yang telah terpilih melanjutkan pelajaran ke Universiti Islam Madinah di Madinah al-Munawwarah. Tiga orang yang bertuah tersebut adalah Mohd Ridzwan bin Abd. Razak, Wan Mohd Ikmal bin Wan Mohamad @ Adnan, dan Mohd Habib Mustafa. Semoga kalian dapat terus menuntut ilmu dengan penuh komitmen dan tabah meneruskan perjuangan demi Islam. Insya-Allah!17 Jun 2007
"Mangsa Kepingin Makaroni Goreng Tiga Malam Berturut-turut."
Selesai berbual-bual dengan seorang sahabat; salah seorang Badan Pengurus PMRAM yang bertandang ke rumah, saya masuk ke bilik. Kebetulan rakan senior saya, Adnan Zakaria, ada singgah ke rumah. Saya minta dia menceritakan perihal rakannya yang menjadi mangsa keadaan baru-baru ini. Dia mulakan mengenai ceritanya bersama allahyarham beberapa malam sebelum kejadian:
Beberapa orang pelajar di sana (Mansurah), beritahu Adnan, ada menetap sebentar di sebuah rumah. Termasuklah allahyarham. Mereka rapat dengan tuan punya rumah tersebut (Abang Man). Di rumah itulah mereka saling mengulangkaji bersama-sama. Pada tiga malam terakhir musim peperiksaan, allahyarham bersungguh benar mahu makan makaroni goreng. Dia sendiri pergi ke kedai membeli makaroni menggunakan wangnya sendiri. Pada tiga malam tersebut mereka yang ada di rumah itu sama-sama makan makaroni yang dibeli allahyarham. Adnan berseloroh, "Ni malam wida' ni. Lepas ni, entah bila pula boleh berjumpa macam ni. Musim periksa tahun depan pula kot..." Lebih kurang macam itulah. (Sebenarnya dialog tu dalam loghat Terengganu.)
Malam selepas hari terakhir peperiksaan, usai menjamu perut dengan makaroni goreng, allahyarham sempat berseloroh sambil ketawa, "Lepas ni kita lepak kat cybercafe sampai pagi."
Hari Isnin, 11 Jun, beberapa pelajar Mansurah termasuklah allahyarham datang melawat rakan-rakan di Kaherah. Keesokannya, Selasa, 12 Jun, allahyarham ada mendesak rakan-rakan, mahu pulang cepat ke Mansurah. Rakan-rakannya menolak dan allahyarham terpaksa balik seorang diri. Senior saya Adnan kepelikan. Selalunya jarang allahyarham balik sendiri-sendiri.
Kembali di Mansurah, Selasa, 13 Jun. Petang itu, allahyarham berada di rumah pelajar Malaysia, di pasar Dirasat, Mansurah bersama seorang rakan. Adnan memberitahu, rakannya itu ada mengatakan mahu bergunting dan didesak supaya pergi cepat. Rakan tersebut pun meninggalkan rumah itu. Tinggallah allahyarham seorang.
Kemudian, kejadian yang tidak diingini itu pun berlaku. Saya cuba bertanyakan Adnan tentang sebab musabab kejadian itu, namun beliau sendiri tidak mengetahui sebab yang tepat. Ada yang mengatakan suspek menghadapi tekanan perasaan yang terlalu kuat. Sedangkan senior saya Adnan yang tinggal di Mansurah tidak tahu, apatah lagi saya yang tinggal di Kaherah. Bukan dekat Mansurah-Kaherah, tahu!
Senior saya itu ada menceritakan tentang keadaan allahyarham ketika ditemui oleh orang Arab. Ulasnya, yang hanya sempat melihat gambar yang dirakam melalui kamera telefon rakannya: "Teruk. Darah merata. Macam di tempat sembelihan lembu!" Saya menggeleng kepala. Sampai begitu sekali.
Setiap kejadian ada hikmahnya yang Allah mahu tunjukkan. Marilah sama-sama kita berlindung dengan nama Allah dari syaitan yang direjam, agar hati kita dijauhkan dari dicemari daki-daki permusuhan. Dan supaya kita tergolong dalam golongan husnul-khatimah. Ameen, ya Rabb!
Beberapa orang pelajar di sana (Mansurah), beritahu Adnan, ada menetap sebentar di sebuah rumah. Termasuklah allahyarham. Mereka rapat dengan tuan punya rumah tersebut (Abang Man). Di rumah itulah mereka saling mengulangkaji bersama-sama. Pada tiga malam terakhir musim peperiksaan, allahyarham bersungguh benar mahu makan makaroni goreng. Dia sendiri pergi ke kedai membeli makaroni menggunakan wangnya sendiri. Pada tiga malam tersebut mereka yang ada di rumah itu sama-sama makan makaroni yang dibeli allahyarham. Adnan berseloroh, "Ni malam wida' ni. Lepas ni, entah bila pula boleh berjumpa macam ni. Musim periksa tahun depan pula kot..." Lebih kurang macam itulah. (Sebenarnya dialog tu dalam loghat Terengganu.)
Malam selepas hari terakhir peperiksaan, usai menjamu perut dengan makaroni goreng, allahyarham sempat berseloroh sambil ketawa, "Lepas ni kita lepak kat cybercafe sampai pagi."
Hari Isnin, 11 Jun, beberapa pelajar Mansurah termasuklah allahyarham datang melawat rakan-rakan di Kaherah. Keesokannya, Selasa, 12 Jun, allahyarham ada mendesak rakan-rakan, mahu pulang cepat ke Mansurah. Rakan-rakannya menolak dan allahyarham terpaksa balik seorang diri. Senior saya Adnan kepelikan. Selalunya jarang allahyarham balik sendiri-sendiri.
Kembali di Mansurah, Selasa, 13 Jun. Petang itu, allahyarham berada di rumah pelajar Malaysia, di pasar Dirasat, Mansurah bersama seorang rakan. Adnan memberitahu, rakannya itu ada mengatakan mahu bergunting dan didesak supaya pergi cepat. Rakan tersebut pun meninggalkan rumah itu. Tinggallah allahyarham seorang.
Kemudian, kejadian yang tidak diingini itu pun berlaku. Saya cuba bertanyakan Adnan tentang sebab musabab kejadian itu, namun beliau sendiri tidak mengetahui sebab yang tepat. Ada yang mengatakan suspek menghadapi tekanan perasaan yang terlalu kuat. Sedangkan senior saya Adnan yang tinggal di Mansurah tidak tahu, apatah lagi saya yang tinggal di Kaherah. Bukan dekat Mansurah-Kaherah, tahu!
Senior saya itu ada menceritakan tentang keadaan allahyarham ketika ditemui oleh orang Arab. Ulasnya, yang hanya sempat melihat gambar yang dirakam melalui kamera telefon rakannya: "Teruk. Darah merata. Macam di tempat sembelihan lembu!" Saya menggeleng kepala. Sampai begitu sekali.
Setiap kejadian ada hikmahnya yang Allah mahu tunjukkan. Marilah sama-sama kita berlindung dengan nama Allah dari syaitan yang direjam, agar hati kita dijauhkan dari dicemari daki-daki permusuhan. Dan supaya kita tergolong dalam golongan husnul-khatimah. Ameen, ya Rabb!
16 Jun 2007
Al-Fatihah Buat Rakan Seperjuangan
Petang itu semasa saya sedang ralit bermain-main Photoshop, saya termangu seketika usai dikhabarkan seorang pelajar Al-Azhar di Mansurah telah dicederakan dengan teruk oleh rakannya yang juga seorang pelajar Al-Azhar dan sedang menjalani rawatan di hospital dauli. Saya mendapat berita tersebut daripada seorang rakan senior yang mengaji di Mansurah, yang kebetulan mengenali mangsa. Saya terfikir seketika. Betul kata abang-abang. Benar, Mesir bumi Anbiya', tapi jangan lupa, ia juga bumi Firaun, Qarun.
Keesokan harinya, saya mendapat SMS yang dihantar oleh seorang kakak di Mansurah tentang kes di sana. Khabarnya, mangsa telah menghembuskan nafas terakhir pada jam 2 pagi. Saya tak terkata apa-apa, terasa sedih dan terus berkongsi mesej tersebut dengan kawan-kawan serumah. "Apa? Betul ke?" Itu antara perkataan yang keluar dari mulut mereka.
Saya tidak bisa melontarkan pendapat tentang kes tersebut. Sudah banyak berita mengenainya yang terpapar di dada-dada akhbar. Biarlah ia jadi iktibar dan pedoman buat kita. Moga-moga Allah melindungi kita semua dari malapetaka yang bisa timbul dari amarah, dengki, dan dendam yang dinyalakan syaitan laknat di dalam hati manusia.
Mangsa adalah Mohammad Ishak, berasal dari Terengganu, pelajar tahun pertama kuliah Usuluddin. Takziah buat keluarga allahyarham. Al-Fatihah.
Keesokan harinya, saya mendapat SMS yang dihantar oleh seorang kakak di Mansurah tentang kes di sana. Khabarnya, mangsa telah menghembuskan nafas terakhir pada jam 2 pagi. Saya tak terkata apa-apa, terasa sedih dan terus berkongsi mesej tersebut dengan kawan-kawan serumah. "Apa? Betul ke?" Itu antara perkataan yang keluar dari mulut mereka.
Saya tidak bisa melontarkan pendapat tentang kes tersebut. Sudah banyak berita mengenainya yang terpapar di dada-dada akhbar. Biarlah ia jadi iktibar dan pedoman buat kita. Moga-moga Allah melindungi kita semua dari malapetaka yang bisa timbul dari amarah, dengki, dan dendam yang dinyalakan syaitan laknat di dalam hati manusia.
Mangsa adalah Mohammad Ishak, berasal dari Terengganu, pelajar tahun pertama kuliah Usuluddin. Takziah buat keluarga allahyarham. Al-Fatihah.
06 Jun 2007
Diari: Memori Memento Spektrum ‘07
Ketika melalui jalan balik dari Shoubra ke Hayyu Sabie’, Kaherah, saya terpandang bangunan Nadhi Riyadhi. Tersenyum sendirian. Teringatkan masa lalu. Di situ Memento Spektrum. Di situ ia berakhir.
Petang itu, masih saya ingat, hari Isnin, 26 Mac 2007 bersamaan 7 Rabi’ul Awal 1428, kami bersiap-siap menuju Nadhi Riyadhi menaiki teksi. Dekat saja, tidaklah mahal sangat kalau menaiki teksi. Kalau destinasi jauh, alamat kering poketlah saya!
Kerja-kerja persiapan dewan masih belum siap disebabkan tertangguh. Orang-orang tua ada menyebut, kerja bertangguh tidakkan siap. Namun perlu disebut di sini, pertangguhan ini bukanlah disebabkan ahli gerak kerja sendiri, tapi kami berhadapan dengan orang arab. Kami dah begitu mafhum dengan fe’el perangai orang arab. Begitulah, kerja kami tertangguh disebabkan mereka. Bukan saya mahu menuding jari kepada orang arab. Iyalah, manusia ni rambut sama hitam, hati lain-lain. Tak begitu?
Berbalik kepada scene di Nadhi Riyadhi. Kami bertungkus-lumus, membanting tulang untuk menyiapkan dewan. Alhamdulillah, walaupun terlewat sedikit, program malam itu dapat berjalan dengan lancar tanpa sebarang gangguan.
Ops, tercerita kesudahannya pula. Kita rewind sedikit, ya. Lupa pula nak beritahu. Entah macam mana saya ni boleh terpilih menjadi salah seorang ahli kumpulan nasyid yang akan membuat persembahan malam itu. Entahlah [senyum].
Kumpulan itu terdiri daripada enam orang vokalis, dan lima orang percussionists. Abdullah Fahmi, juara Akademi Al-Quran adalah ketua kami, walaupun tidak kami lantik secara rasmi, namun saya rasakan dia memang sesuai memegang title ketua.
Semasa kami berlatih beberapa hari sebelum Memento Spektrum, berlaku sedikit perselisihan faham. Sedikit saja. Namun, kerana sedikit itulah kami hampir-hampir tidak jadi membuat persembahan. Mahu saja tarik diri. Tapi selepas kami berbincang dengan baik, membuang jauh prasangka jahat, saling memberi teguran seadanya, dan bermuhasabah, kami kembali bersatu sebagai satu kumpulan. Tidak kan terhidu haruman mewangi andai tidak dinyalakan setanggi, tiada pula manisnya kehidupan jika tiada ujian sebegini. Betul, bukan? Waduh, kok berkias pula! Hehe…
Malam itu, selepas solat Maghrib, kami bersiap untuk rehearsal. Tapi entah macam mana, tak jadi juga. Rehearsal sebenarnya akan dilakukan di atas pentas, untuk mencuba-cuba mikrofon, mendapatkan posisi yang baik dan lain-lain, namun memandangkan pentas pun dalam pembikinan lagi pada masa itu, terpaksalah kami batalkannya. Rehearsal hanya dibuat selepas solat Isya’ di bahagian belakang dewan tanpa menggunakan mikrofon. Kemudian, doa dibacakan oleh Abdullah Fahmi, mengharap agar persembahan kami dapat berjalan dengan lancar. Ameen! Kemudian dia berpesan kepada seluruh ahli kumpulan: buatlah yang terbaik dan apa-apa kecacatan yang berlaku, redhalah! Lantas, kami berenam bersalaman dan berpelukan. Ukhuwwah fillah abadan abada.
Akhirnya, saat yang ditunggu jelang tiba. Kumpulan kami dipanggil untuk tampil ke atas pentas. Saat ini, ketika saya sedang menaip diari ini, masih terasa lagi debarannya. Saya masih mampu bayangkan bagaimana saya merasai jantung saya menendang-nendang.
Percussionists mengambil tempat dahulu. Senyap. Audience ternanti-nanti persembahan kami. Semuanya senyap. Berdebar sungguh saya pada masa itu!
Muzik intro dibunyikan menandakan para vokalis perlu naik dan mengambil posisi masing-masing. Saya adalah yang pertama naik ke pentas, diikuti rakan anggota yang lain. Ditakdirkan saya berdiri betul-betul di hadapan bahagian akhawat! Aduh…semakin berdebarlah si jantung hati ini! Bukan apa, kalau hal-hal yang berkaitan dengan wanita ni (kecuali keluarga sayalah…), saya memang tak dapat excel. Tak biasa. Iyalah, faham-faham saja, hampir enam tahun di MTAQ Pulai Chondong, tak pernah bergaul dengan perempuan. Memanglah pergaulan bebas tu haram, tapi dalam hal-hal seperti berpersatuan, berprogram, dan lain-lain, interaction and communication diharuskan asalkan menjaga batas hukum. Tapi part ni pun, saya geleng kepala. Surrender.
Kembali ke situasi di hadapan audience. Saya mengambil mikrofon. Testing, one, two, three. Baik. Mula!
Memang pada mulanya saya rasakan begitu berdebar. Sampai saya terbayangkan bahawa kot hitam yang saya pakai ni terkoyak di bahagian jantung! Begitu hebat sekali debaran yang saya rasa malam itu.
Tipulah kalau saya katakan saya tak ada rasa gementar langsung berdiri di hadapan ratusan penonton. Malah wakil kerajaan negeri Kelantan pun hadir! Datin Sabariah, isteri YAB Tuan Guru juga ada. Bayangkanlah sendiri jika anda di tempat saya. Tentu tak terbayangkan.
Alhamdulillah, selepas satu lagu habis didendangkan, saya sudah mampu mengawal rasa gementar. Dua lagu selepas itu, alhamdulillah, mampu saya habiskan dengan selesa.
Syukur, persembahan kami selesai tanpa ada apa-apa kejadian yang tak diduga. Kami turun dari pentas, menarik nafas lega. Segala puji bagi Allah!
Acara diteruskan sehingga akhir. Spektrum ’07 berakhir dengan baik. Seperti yang saya katakan tadi, tiada sebarang kejadian yang tidak diingini berlaku. Bagi saya, malam tersebut adalah malam yang paling best sejak saya sampai di Mesir sehinggalah saat saya menaip diari ini.
Namun, tidaklah saya katakan persembahan kami pada malam itu adalah perfect. Tidak. Banyak cacat-cela, dan kami tidak nafikannya. Kami hanya mampu lakukan yang terbaik, dan kelemahan yang ada, kami harap mampu kami perbaiki jika masih ada Spektrum pada masa akan datang.
Jumpa lagi, SPEKTRUM!
Noktah.
Petang itu, masih saya ingat, hari Isnin, 26 Mac 2007 bersamaan 7 Rabi’ul Awal 1428, kami bersiap-siap menuju Nadhi Riyadhi menaiki teksi. Dekat saja, tidaklah mahal sangat kalau menaiki teksi. Kalau destinasi jauh, alamat kering poketlah saya!
Kerja-kerja persiapan dewan masih belum siap disebabkan tertangguh. Orang-orang tua ada menyebut, kerja bertangguh tidakkan siap. Namun perlu disebut di sini, pertangguhan ini bukanlah disebabkan ahli gerak kerja sendiri, tapi kami berhadapan dengan orang arab. Kami dah begitu mafhum dengan fe’el perangai orang arab. Begitulah, kerja kami tertangguh disebabkan mereka. Bukan saya mahu menuding jari kepada orang arab. Iyalah, manusia ni rambut sama hitam, hati lain-lain. Tak begitu?
Berbalik kepada scene di Nadhi Riyadhi. Kami bertungkus-lumus, membanting tulang untuk menyiapkan dewan. Alhamdulillah, walaupun terlewat sedikit, program malam itu dapat berjalan dengan lancar tanpa sebarang gangguan.
Ops, tercerita kesudahannya pula. Kita rewind sedikit, ya. Lupa pula nak beritahu. Entah macam mana saya ni boleh terpilih menjadi salah seorang ahli kumpulan nasyid yang akan membuat persembahan malam itu. Entahlah [senyum].
Kumpulan itu terdiri daripada enam orang vokalis, dan lima orang percussionists. Abdullah Fahmi, juara Akademi Al-Quran adalah ketua kami, walaupun tidak kami lantik secara rasmi, namun saya rasakan dia memang sesuai memegang title ketua.
Semasa kami berlatih beberapa hari sebelum Memento Spektrum, berlaku sedikit perselisihan faham. Sedikit saja. Namun, kerana sedikit itulah kami hampir-hampir tidak jadi membuat persembahan. Mahu saja tarik diri. Tapi selepas kami berbincang dengan baik, membuang jauh prasangka jahat, saling memberi teguran seadanya, dan bermuhasabah, kami kembali bersatu sebagai satu kumpulan. Tidak kan terhidu haruman mewangi andai tidak dinyalakan setanggi, tiada pula manisnya kehidupan jika tiada ujian sebegini. Betul, bukan? Waduh, kok berkias pula! Hehe…
Malam itu, selepas solat Maghrib, kami bersiap untuk rehearsal. Tapi entah macam mana, tak jadi juga. Rehearsal sebenarnya akan dilakukan di atas pentas, untuk mencuba-cuba mikrofon, mendapatkan posisi yang baik dan lain-lain, namun memandangkan pentas pun dalam pembikinan lagi pada masa itu, terpaksalah kami batalkannya. Rehearsal hanya dibuat selepas solat Isya’ di bahagian belakang dewan tanpa menggunakan mikrofon. Kemudian, doa dibacakan oleh Abdullah Fahmi, mengharap agar persembahan kami dapat berjalan dengan lancar. Ameen! Kemudian dia berpesan kepada seluruh ahli kumpulan: buatlah yang terbaik dan apa-apa kecacatan yang berlaku, redhalah! Lantas, kami berenam bersalaman dan berpelukan. Ukhuwwah fillah abadan abada.
Akhirnya, saat yang ditunggu jelang tiba. Kumpulan kami dipanggil untuk tampil ke atas pentas. Saat ini, ketika saya sedang menaip diari ini, masih terasa lagi debarannya. Saya masih mampu bayangkan bagaimana saya merasai jantung saya menendang-nendang.
Percussionists mengambil tempat dahulu. Senyap. Audience ternanti-nanti persembahan kami. Semuanya senyap. Berdebar sungguh saya pada masa itu!
Muzik intro dibunyikan menandakan para vokalis perlu naik dan mengambil posisi masing-masing. Saya adalah yang pertama naik ke pentas, diikuti rakan anggota yang lain. Ditakdirkan saya berdiri betul-betul di hadapan bahagian akhawat! Aduh…semakin berdebarlah si jantung hati ini! Bukan apa, kalau hal-hal yang berkaitan dengan wanita ni (kecuali keluarga sayalah…), saya memang tak dapat excel. Tak biasa. Iyalah, faham-faham saja, hampir enam tahun di MTAQ Pulai Chondong, tak pernah bergaul dengan perempuan. Memanglah pergaulan bebas tu haram, tapi dalam hal-hal seperti berpersatuan, berprogram, dan lain-lain, interaction and communication diharuskan asalkan menjaga batas hukum. Tapi part ni pun, saya geleng kepala. Surrender.
Kembali ke situasi di hadapan audience. Saya mengambil mikrofon. Testing, one, two, three. Baik. Mula!
Memang pada mulanya saya rasakan begitu berdebar. Sampai saya terbayangkan bahawa kot hitam yang saya pakai ni terkoyak di bahagian jantung! Begitu hebat sekali debaran yang saya rasa malam itu.
Tipulah kalau saya katakan saya tak ada rasa gementar langsung berdiri di hadapan ratusan penonton. Malah wakil kerajaan negeri Kelantan pun hadir! Datin Sabariah, isteri YAB Tuan Guru juga ada. Bayangkanlah sendiri jika anda di tempat saya. Tentu tak terbayangkan.
Alhamdulillah, selepas satu lagu habis didendangkan, saya sudah mampu mengawal rasa gementar. Dua lagu selepas itu, alhamdulillah, mampu saya habiskan dengan selesa.
Syukur, persembahan kami selesai tanpa ada apa-apa kejadian yang tak diduga. Kami turun dari pentas, menarik nafas lega. Segala puji bagi Allah!
Acara diteruskan sehingga akhir. Spektrum ’07 berakhir dengan baik. Seperti yang saya katakan tadi, tiada sebarang kejadian yang tidak diingini berlaku. Bagi saya, malam tersebut adalah malam yang paling best sejak saya sampai di Mesir sehinggalah saat saya menaip diari ini.
Namun, tidaklah saya katakan persembahan kami pada malam itu adalah perfect. Tidak. Banyak cacat-cela, dan kami tidak nafikannya. Kami hanya mampu lakukan yang terbaik, dan kelemahan yang ada, kami harap mampu kami perbaiki jika masih ada Spektrum pada masa akan datang.
Jumpa lagi, SPEKTRUM!
Noktah.
03 Jun 2007
Desifer 2.0
Ni dok musykil ni... nak wat komik, novel, or... novel grafik?! Buntu betul lah...[sengih]. Kalau nak wat komik, kena lukis banyak, kalau nak wat novel, kena menulis pulak, dan kalau nak wat novel grafik... mampuih... kena lukis dan menulis at the same time!!! Tabik spring kepada Ust Ubaidillah Alias kerana dengan jayanya berjaya menghasilkan novel grafiknye yang pertama: Sekudus Nur Ilahi! Tahniah, mabruk! [senyum]
02 Jun 2007
The Magical Coin
“Can you believe that this RM 0.10 can make a big miracle to us?” asked Mursyid to his friends. The tiny coin glittered as the ray of the sun striked. He smiled as none can answer. Or maybe none believed.
Mujahid came with his pals, and he overheard Mursyid.
“Bla, bla, bla, enough with your chat, Mursyid,” said he, not looking at the group.
“And you guys, can’t you do any better things rather than hearing his gobbledygook talk? Ten cents can’t change your life. Really.”
Mursyid shook his head. “It may, Mujahid,” insisted Mursyid.
Mujahid sighed lazily, turning to Mursyid. “No, poor boy. Well, OK, sometimes it makes the whatsoever miracle. But only on some penniless boy,” grinned he, and added, “like you.”
Mujahid and his buddies laughed an irritating laughter.
“Now come, my comrades,” continued he. “We have some more works to do. I don’t want to hang with these impoverished childs.”
Their irritating laughter faded as they walked away. Mursyid only looked at them with a sour look.
“It’s OK, Mursyid,” said Mujaddid, one of his friends. “We are on your side.”
“Yeah,” agreed Murabbi and Muaz simultaneously.
Mursyid turned to his friends, smiling. “I’m all right. It’s just a small matter.”
The next weekend, Mursyid helped her mother in their nasi lemak stall like usual. It was a sunny morning. He could see birds happily chirping in a nearby cherry tree. Sometimes he dreamed to be like them, living happily with his family, having many friends, living an affluent live and able to buy anything he liked. Yes, he once saw a remote-control car. It was Mujahid’s. And he had a heart onto having one. But he swiftly realised that he’s what he used to be. There’s no need to be longing for something which is unworthy. He had a life to live on, and he will make his family live better. He just has to struggle and strive in his study whatever it takes. Then he will go abroad to further his study. Once he has graduated, he will guide his own family to a better life. At that time, his mother should have been proud of him. Proud to have a child like him. And he will hug her for all she had showered to him since he was born. Love, sacrifice, hard-times, illness, and all the things she had faced for such a long time.
Yes, such dream is better. Better than dreaming of a toy or any unworthy things like having many many money. Big bucks. Such dreams won’t lead to a better living. After the realization of the dream, greed and desire will follow. Both will only ruin one’s future. No future for dreamers of these.
A boom of an engine broke the peacefulness of the morning. Mursyid jumped. It was a black Chevrolet passing by his stall. The luxurious car stopped with a screech of the tyres and reversed. It stopped at the front of the stall. The side window slided down. A teenager with a familiar intimidating smile was inside, while his pal, Mumtaz was at the driver’s seat.
“Ah, what a coincidence to see you here, Needy,” greeted Mujahid boastfully.
“I have a name, Mujahid,” crossed Mursyid.
“Oh, well,” sneered Mujahid. “Gotta go to the City. Hop in. I can fetch you there and we can—”
“No thanks,” crossed Mursyid.
Mujahid and Mumtaz looked at each other with a devious grin.
“Oh, I forgot. How could I?” laughed Mujahid. “Still waiting for the tiny little coin to do some kinda magic tricks, eh?”
Mumtaz laughed like crazy, inside.
“Oh, oh, look at the time. You kept me long, Needy,” laughed Mujahid again. “Smell you later!”
And with that the Chevrolet scuttled away, leaving behind some gray dust. Mursyid felt his shoulder being touched. He turned his head. It was his mother.
“That’s life, my son,” said she soothingly. “We learn from many things. Majorly from mistakes, done by our own selves or others. I know you feel terrible, but remember, He already told us that after the trouble comes the tranquility. After the sadness comes the joy. Allah won’t brake His promises.”
Mursyid looked deeply at his mother’s face; a wizened old face, but filled with the enlightenment of Iman. And her smile was the thing he would never forget till the end of time.
The next day was Monday. Mursyid went to school like usual and there was nothing special that day save the increasing effort of Mujahid’s to sneer and make fun of him. Like always, Mujahid hanged with his ‘comrades’. And like always, Mursyid never ‘countered’ their efforts. He did not feel irritated anymore. Besides, he also had his own ‘comrades’ but not like Mujahid, he treated his friends just as fair.
During recess, Mursyid went to the school’s feast hall to buy some drinks. He saw Mujahid bullying the juniors, trying to brake up the cue. Mursyid did not bother to act. He already had his and he did not want to be late for his next physics class.
Mujahid stood for a while and stuffed his pouch into his pocket. As he took his hand out, a tiny RM 0.10 slipped together and fell with a ching. It rolled for a while and hit a shoe.
It was Mursyid’s.
He saw from whom did it fell and he took it right away. Just as he reached Mujahid, he stretched out his right hand with the coin in the palm.
“You dropped it,” said Mursyid. “Take it back.”
Mujahid closed in and stared at Mursyid. His eyes were blazing.
“Don’t humiliate me with that,” growled Mujahid. “If you want, just take it. Miracles shall happen.”
Mumtaz and the other Mujahid’s buddies were enjoying the ‘show’. They clapped thunderously as Mujahid came to them. They even praised him for the spectacular ‘performance’.
“Don’t mind him,” assured Mujahid. “He’s just taken away my RM0.10 to make some miracles. Let’s just hope he won’t do a Charm or a Curse to us.”
Again they went away with their demonic laughter. Mursyid only sighed heavily. He shook his head for seeing such a wasting attitude. Slowly he looked down upon his palm. The tiny coin seemed different. Was it a miracle…?
Mujahid felt uneasy. His heart began to swirl. He quickly took his bag and stormed to the nearby bus stop.
No, I’m too late. There will be no more bus to my house!
Mujahid suddenly stumbled and fell onto the mud. It dawned on him that it already rained. His heart began to churn.
Argh, dammit! It can’t be! There must be a bus! There must be one!
With all the strength he had, he dashed to the bus stop. Once arrived, he sat on the bench with a heavy sigh. His body gave a slight shiver.
“Mujahid?”
He was jumped. Just next to him sat Mursyid with his old bicycle. He was on his way back from selling kuih-muih when it started to rain and now he was sheltering at the bus stop. Pride began to take over Mujahid.
“What did you do? You’re all drenched with mud,” exclaimed Mursyid. “You dozed off in the class again?”
“None of your business, Mursyid!” Mujahid snorted angrily. He stood and took out his cellphone and began to dial his father’s driver.
There wasn’t a tone. No credits.
Mujahid cursed under his breath. He saw there were still some taxi. He pulled out his wallet.
And there wasn’t a cash.
Dammit! It’s all spent!!!
Mujahid eventually sat on the bench, defeated. He was hopeless. He wouldn’t go home today. He would sleep in the coldness. He hated it. Mujahid hated coldness.
His parents were not at home. They were at the US for some business. He had nothing to do now. All he could was shedding tears.
Tears of defeat, fear, and loneliness.
The rain seemed to be raging. Thunders cracked aloud, as if rejoicing Mujahid’s defeat. Wind howled as if there would be a tempest soon.
“You still can go home, Mujahid,” said Mursyid softly.
“DON’T FOOL ME, NEEDY!!!” barked Mujahid, tears still streaming.
Mursyid showed him a coin. A RM0.10.
“YOU STILL WANT TO FOOL ME WITH YOUR MAGICAL COIN?!!!” roared
Mujahid. His inner was engulfed in wretchedness and fury.
“Listen, Mujahid. Even that this coin has a low value to you, but at times like this, it proved to have raised it. You dropped this coin and now you need it.”
“Shut your mouth! How can it be possible for a RM0.10 coin to take me home?”
“There’s a public phone. Take this coin and call your father’s driver. He may take you home.”
Mujahid looked at Mursyid. He suddenly realised that he was wrong all this long. He shouldn’t have wasted his wealth so recklessly. Even a RM0.10 has its value.
Slowly he took the coin and called his father’s driver. As he ended the call, he went to the bus stop. He looked at Mursyid. Tears still streamed down his cheek. And slowly he gave a hand to him.
“I was wrong, Mursyid,” he cried. “I shouldn’t have wasted the coin. And I’m sorry for all the dishonest deeds I have done to you.”
“It’s OK, Mujahid,” replied Mursyid, shaking hands with the one who always made fun of him because of his poverty. He smiled. “I don’t even mind if you try to make fun of me again.”
Mujahid grinned and whiped the tears. “Will it make a big miracle again?” joked he.
Both of them laughed cheerfully, even in the coldness.
And from that on, both became friends.
Mujahid came with his pals, and he overheard Mursyid.
“Bla, bla, bla, enough with your chat, Mursyid,” said he, not looking at the group.
“And you guys, can’t you do any better things rather than hearing his gobbledygook talk? Ten cents can’t change your life. Really.”
Mursyid shook his head. “It may, Mujahid,” insisted Mursyid.
Mujahid sighed lazily, turning to Mursyid. “No, poor boy. Well, OK, sometimes it makes the whatsoever miracle. But only on some penniless boy,” grinned he, and added, “like you.”
Mujahid and his buddies laughed an irritating laughter.
“Now come, my comrades,” continued he. “We have some more works to do. I don’t want to hang with these impoverished childs.”
Their irritating laughter faded as they walked away. Mursyid only looked at them with a sour look.
“It’s OK, Mursyid,” said Mujaddid, one of his friends. “We are on your side.”
“Yeah,” agreed Murabbi and Muaz simultaneously.
Mursyid turned to his friends, smiling. “I’m all right. It’s just a small matter.”
The next weekend, Mursyid helped her mother in their nasi lemak stall like usual. It was a sunny morning. He could see birds happily chirping in a nearby cherry tree. Sometimes he dreamed to be like them, living happily with his family, having many friends, living an affluent live and able to buy anything he liked. Yes, he once saw a remote-control car. It was Mujahid’s. And he had a heart onto having one. But he swiftly realised that he’s what he used to be. There’s no need to be longing for something which is unworthy. He had a life to live on, and he will make his family live better. He just has to struggle and strive in his study whatever it takes. Then he will go abroad to further his study. Once he has graduated, he will guide his own family to a better life. At that time, his mother should have been proud of him. Proud to have a child like him. And he will hug her for all she had showered to him since he was born. Love, sacrifice, hard-times, illness, and all the things she had faced for such a long time.
Yes, such dream is better. Better than dreaming of a toy or any unworthy things like having many many money. Big bucks. Such dreams won’t lead to a better living. After the realization of the dream, greed and desire will follow. Both will only ruin one’s future. No future for dreamers of these.
A boom of an engine broke the peacefulness of the morning. Mursyid jumped. It was a black Chevrolet passing by his stall. The luxurious car stopped with a screech of the tyres and reversed. It stopped at the front of the stall. The side window slided down. A teenager with a familiar intimidating smile was inside, while his pal, Mumtaz was at the driver’s seat.
“Ah, what a coincidence to see you here, Needy,” greeted Mujahid boastfully.
“I have a name, Mujahid,” crossed Mursyid.
“Oh, well,” sneered Mujahid. “Gotta go to the City. Hop in. I can fetch you there and we can—”
“No thanks,” crossed Mursyid.
Mujahid and Mumtaz looked at each other with a devious grin.
“Oh, I forgot. How could I?” laughed Mujahid. “Still waiting for the tiny little coin to do some kinda magic tricks, eh?”
Mumtaz laughed like crazy, inside.
“Oh, oh, look at the time. You kept me long, Needy,” laughed Mujahid again. “Smell you later!”
And with that the Chevrolet scuttled away, leaving behind some gray dust. Mursyid felt his shoulder being touched. He turned his head. It was his mother.
“That’s life, my son,” said she soothingly. “We learn from many things. Majorly from mistakes, done by our own selves or others. I know you feel terrible, but remember, He already told us that after the trouble comes the tranquility. After the sadness comes the joy. Allah won’t brake His promises.”
Mursyid looked deeply at his mother’s face; a wizened old face, but filled with the enlightenment of Iman. And her smile was the thing he would never forget till the end of time.
The next day was Monday. Mursyid went to school like usual and there was nothing special that day save the increasing effort of Mujahid’s to sneer and make fun of him. Like always, Mujahid hanged with his ‘comrades’. And like always, Mursyid never ‘countered’ their efforts. He did not feel irritated anymore. Besides, he also had his own ‘comrades’ but not like Mujahid, he treated his friends just as fair.
During recess, Mursyid went to the school’s feast hall to buy some drinks. He saw Mujahid bullying the juniors, trying to brake up the cue. Mursyid did not bother to act. He already had his and he did not want to be late for his next physics class.
Mujahid stood for a while and stuffed his pouch into his pocket. As he took his hand out, a tiny RM 0.10 slipped together and fell with a ching. It rolled for a while and hit a shoe.
It was Mursyid’s.
He saw from whom did it fell and he took it right away. Just as he reached Mujahid, he stretched out his right hand with the coin in the palm.
“You dropped it,” said Mursyid. “Take it back.”
Mujahid closed in and stared at Mursyid. His eyes were blazing.
“Don’t humiliate me with that,” growled Mujahid. “If you want, just take it. Miracles shall happen.”
Mumtaz and the other Mujahid’s buddies were enjoying the ‘show’. They clapped thunderously as Mujahid came to them. They even praised him for the spectacular ‘performance’.
“Don’t mind him,” assured Mujahid. “He’s just taken away my RM0.10 to make some miracles. Let’s just hope he won’t do a Charm or a Curse to us.”
Again they went away with their demonic laughter. Mursyid only sighed heavily. He shook his head for seeing such a wasting attitude. Slowly he looked down upon his palm. The tiny coin seemed different. Was it a miracle…?
***
Mujahid woke with a start. He turned around. There’s no one left in the classroom. He looked at the sky. It was awfully dark. Then he looked at the watch. It was 6.30 pm. He had dozed off the class for a… WHAT?!!!Mujahid felt uneasy. His heart began to swirl. He quickly took his bag and stormed to the nearby bus stop.
No, I’m too late. There will be no more bus to my house!
Mujahid suddenly stumbled and fell onto the mud. It dawned on him that it already rained. His heart began to churn.
Argh, dammit! It can’t be! There must be a bus! There must be one!
With all the strength he had, he dashed to the bus stop. Once arrived, he sat on the bench with a heavy sigh. His body gave a slight shiver.
“Mujahid?”
He was jumped. Just next to him sat Mursyid with his old bicycle. He was on his way back from selling kuih-muih when it started to rain and now he was sheltering at the bus stop. Pride began to take over Mujahid.
“What did you do? You’re all drenched with mud,” exclaimed Mursyid. “You dozed off in the class again?”
“None of your business, Mursyid!” Mujahid snorted angrily. He stood and took out his cellphone and began to dial his father’s driver.
There wasn’t a tone. No credits.
Mujahid cursed under his breath. He saw there were still some taxi. He pulled out his wallet.
And there wasn’t a cash.
Dammit! It’s all spent!!!
Mujahid eventually sat on the bench, defeated. He was hopeless. He wouldn’t go home today. He would sleep in the coldness. He hated it. Mujahid hated coldness.
His parents were not at home. They were at the US for some business. He had nothing to do now. All he could was shedding tears.
Tears of defeat, fear, and loneliness.
The rain seemed to be raging. Thunders cracked aloud, as if rejoicing Mujahid’s defeat. Wind howled as if there would be a tempest soon.
“You still can go home, Mujahid,” said Mursyid softly.
“DON’T FOOL ME, NEEDY!!!” barked Mujahid, tears still streaming.
Mursyid showed him a coin. A RM0.10.
“YOU STILL WANT TO FOOL ME WITH YOUR MAGICAL COIN?!!!” roared
Mujahid. His inner was engulfed in wretchedness and fury.
“Listen, Mujahid. Even that this coin has a low value to you, but at times like this, it proved to have raised it. You dropped this coin and now you need it.”
“Shut your mouth! How can it be possible for a RM0.10 coin to take me home?”
“There’s a public phone. Take this coin and call your father’s driver. He may take you home.”
Mujahid looked at Mursyid. He suddenly realised that he was wrong all this long. He shouldn’t have wasted his wealth so recklessly. Even a RM0.10 has its value.
Slowly he took the coin and called his father’s driver. As he ended the call, he went to the bus stop. He looked at Mursyid. Tears still streamed down his cheek. And slowly he gave a hand to him.
“I was wrong, Mursyid,” he cried. “I shouldn’t have wasted the coin. And I’m sorry for all the dishonest deeds I have done to you.”
“It’s OK, Mujahid,” replied Mursyid, shaking hands with the one who always made fun of him because of his poverty. He smiled. “I don’t even mind if you try to make fun of me again.”
Mujahid grinned and whiped the tears. “Will it make a big miracle again?” joked he.
Both of them laughed cheerfully, even in the coldness.
And from that on, both became friends.
Langgan:
Catatan (Atom)