the guidance

we met in secondary school, this guy whom i call brother. it so happened that we were the only 2 Muslim guys in the class with couple of few girls. his wayward past makes mine seem modestly inconsequential. nevertheless, i trust my intuition and i’m glad i did.

he was then in the mid of renaissance from the old misbehaving, often in a uncanny way to more mellower and wiser person, what he is today. i felt we are one of a kind as we share lots of similiarity and yet our differences are complementing one another. unconciously, we had past the phase of friendship… where it no longer makes any difference if we are able to recall each other favourites colour but rather to be there for each other be it in time of difficulty or joyous occasions.

brother, was never a good teacher yet he was forthcoming to share his thoughts and knowledge in both religion and academics studies. seriously, i enjoyed spending time together, as we were always debating, embracing new ideas and enlightening each other. this rare encounter, was the key to the pandora box.

the sign

it was on the mid-month of Ramadan. being a ten old lad, Tarawih prayers was the least on my mind. every night, after the end of Isha’a prayers, it was ‘catching’ time with friends. we would fully utilized the whole 2 hours to ourselves before recess back home in pretext returning from the late-night prayers.

after a game or 2 of ‘rumah dayak‘, only God knows why, i volunteered to help retrieved a friend’s uncle bicycle which was parked outside the mosque. naively, i trusted him to the every last breath. as i recalled the incident, it was almost surreal to be true. i was ambushed as i rode the bike out. deserted and terrified… i was left to fend for myself. thanks God, my plea of innocence does not fell on deaf ears. the culprit (whom i used to call friend) was caught and the rest was history. clearly, all this while dad was trying to watch my back. baffled, sadden and frustrated from the incident, i began to distant myself.

much to the wiser from the old dimwited me, i grew to appreciate and fathom the true definition of friendship… i was ready to forgive but never forget.

the beginning

from a pious and devoted muslim family, i was exposed to Islam in the early days of my life. however, the cross road began during my mid-adolescent years, where i met ‘my brother’ and soon began to exhibit the curiosity of my faith.

dad was the ‘king of the pack’, who is a no-nonsense man. his strict demeanor, means no girlfriend while schooling, and making sure that i hanged out with the right group of children which he deems desirable etc. mum, who was then a religious teacher in a nearby mosque was my source of inspiration and knowledge. in other words, she was my role model. this does not implies any perfection, but rather the good traits which i’ve learn from them. lol, maybe some of the bad ones too…

apart from the secular academic which i attended everyday, it was a dreadful period as i was also balancing my time between madrasah classes and tuition. anyway, neither i took these lessons too seriously then. it was nothing more than an everyday activities. my attention was religiously making friends, catching fishes in the canal, trapping spiders, skipped classes etc whichever i distinctively term as fun. too soon, reality eclipses the fun-loving me.

the dna crisis

born to parents from two different races, my very first ordeal was to address the identity crisis. yes, i was seeking that sense of belonging. by default, the state profess my race whom my dad belong to. apparently, the heir of paternal ties seems to be more profound or easily characterized by most countries i can think of. undoubtedly, it does ease the confusion.

gradually, it was no longer matter whichever group i belong to. rather, i was appreciative and contented that both of my parents practice the same faith. literally, i was free from the non-existence tussle deciding whose faith should i be observing. albeit, there are parents who are open minded, allowing their children to practice the religion they are comfortable with, in asian context most parents are observe to be less tolerance and forgiving.

racial identification was insignificance in Islam. it’s a faith which does not belong to any group, tribe or race. i reckon, it was faith that distinguish individuals apart.

i’m a believer

‘O Ya Allah, the Almighty One. I seek that strength which you had bestowed to the one you blessed. Please do not deprived me the ‘Nur’ which you light up the heart of the one you had bestowed upon. O my Lord, please accept my plea. I seek that guidance as i’m weak without your ‘Nur’ and strength… i‘m like a leaf gone with the wind.’