Her Waffle

Utusan daripada seorang kakak, sepertinya tahu bahawa si adik sedang perlukan ayat-ayat cinta Angin itu membawa khabar bahawa dia sedang dalam sedih. Luluh hati siang dan malam, tak mahu bercerita. Biarlah dipendam terus dalam dasar yang paling dalam. Biar tak terkenang lagi luka yang lama. Namun angin itu sepertinya tahu bahawa seperti ada yang tidak kena. Tapi ada sahaja yang dapat membaca. Dan dia sedar yang setiap kesusahan yang ditimpakan bertitik pada sesuatu yang dirinya memang tidak betah untuk terima. Lalu kesedihan bertimpa-timpa, merasakan titik kelemahannya itu memang disandarkan pada sesuatu yang lemah. Mengharapkan bahagia berada dalam ingatan manusia. Mengharapkan kehangatan dalam dingin yang sebenarnya. Mengharapkan nafas hidup daripada yang nanti akan mati juga. Padahal dia tahu, hatinya tidak wajar dibiar terpasak pada yang tidak sempurna. Padahal dia tahu, saudara yang di tanah sana lebih gagah menempuh ranjau dunia. Padahal dia tahu, kesedihan pic

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. Cengeng. I am that. Berhati tisu, selembut tisu Kleenex. sharing our bittersweet childhood together, 1996 (maybe) Jadi, si abang seorang sudah selamat menjadi suami kepada isterinya, Kak A, alhamdulillah. Terasa baru semalam dibuli oleh si abang. Abang seorang itulah yang selalu temankan adiknya berehat bersama-sama ketika masih berhingus dulu. Si abang seorang yang memang Allah dah beri sifat keabangan kepadanya, tak mahu adik-adik susah lalu dia pun memilih untuk hidup sederhana saja. Tak pernah meminta-minta hingga ibu ayah terasa susah dengan dia. Dialah abang saya, abang saya yang seorang. Eid 2012 His graduation day, 2011 His way of saying goodbye at KLIA before my departure to Manchester, September 2015 Tapi hari ni, dia bukan sekadar seorang abang. Abang seorang sudah punya tanggungjawabnya, yang ingin dibawa bersama ke dalam syurga. Kerana kasihnya kepada Kak A pasti ingin dibawa hingga ke sana juga

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. Kak Saadah went back to Malaysia for good last 19th January. Kak Aini might have just arrived at KLIA by the time we woke up this morning.  The sadness you will feel initially may be quite unbearable, to be honest. You will start condemning your loneliness and a feeling inside you will grow bigger; a dire wish to end your studies here in the UK as soon as possible so that you can go back home for good too, like the rest of the people you know. It is always lovely to see breath-taking sceneries on Facebook timeline and Instagram feeds of pictures that people living abroad may post to update their whereabouts. Yep, truly mesmerising, the photos and so-called cool lifestyle they have here. (I am talking about the UK people because I don't know what types of life do others have in other countries) I am amazed sometimes and I often wonder to myself -  "Why do they look so happy? Why don't I feel the same?" These questions arose based

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. Funny how I can now refer to myself as a 22-year-old 'woman' since 2017 has finally arrived. Though I only turned 21 last December (but have always been that old since 26 Rejab every hijrah year - yawns), it is still fun to be 'feeling 22'. I don't know how to define the adjective fun for you here. Maybe it's fun in the sense that you enjoy having the freedom to decide things for yourself after weighing the pros and cons, consulting few people about that and finally being brave in simply jumping into making that decision a reality? Do all of these count as fun ? But it is not ALWAYS fun, if you know what I mean. In slowly becoming an adult, you can't escape from making mistakes along the way. And the fear of making more mistakes afterwards? That's even scarier. For example, being offered a certain kind of positions in some student bodies and you have to give your final say before the end of the month, while having fi