How Life Treats My Capability of Loving

I used to believe that marriage was one of the hardest thing to bear. I kept thinking, how is one supposed to fully understand the importance of dealing with a spouse they barely know for less than half of their lives, in hopes to recreate a perfect household with unpredictable number of children?

But then, at the same time, love poured its truth to me and got me showered with kindness and sincerity, on and on. Just when I was about to close my eyes, such unexpected memory blew its hope and rebuilt logic. Thousand clips of my life recapped in seconds; with my parents' shadow following in each step I took, and my brother's laughter as a comforting melody throughout my journey whichever way I went to.

Suddenly I became a doubtful person with optimism hidden in the back of my carved heart that said: que sera, sera. I considered to stop believing anything that could destroy my capability of loving, for I probably will find a pen to write a new chapter of my life with.

A Feminist, who Happens to be a Muslim

Selamat hari #Kartini! Keywords of the day; feminism, women, gender equality. Not that I'm such an expert (bah, not even close), the idea of being a Muslim feminist has come across this mind since day one and I like talking about this. No shame.

There is this concern on how feminism often contradicts with the fact that some life decisions among women are not seen as an empowering decision whatsoever.

I don't think forcing any women to comply to a particular standard of living defines how feminism should work. Because women have rights to do what she's good at, without prejudice or status quo overshadowing her path. Because, sometimes, choosing not to carry out women's rights the way other women do, is also human rights.

And this matter may sound even more interesting if we relate feminism with Islam, as women are often labeled as the inferior gender due to women position in family or marriage. Maybe this will sound merely as a justification that comes from a Muslim woman. Because I for one think that some limitations on Muslim women aren't considered as oppression, but merely a significant role given as rewarding and valued choice. And it is highly essential to stop comparing which life decision defines feminism the most as it can lead to misconception and counterproductive meaning.

Shout out to women in our lives.

Only Once in Your Life....

“Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement.

They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are.

The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you.

You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end.

Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.”

I was on my goodreads account, browsing for popular quotes for no clear reasons, and found this undoubtly beautiful piece of mind by Bob Marley.

This makes me feel hopeful somehow, yet again.

Father-Daughter

At first I wasn't sure how I would start this birthday-Instagram-caption for my Dad (yea prepare yourself for some touchy post that doesn't have anything to do with your life, mianhaeyo) but then I thought, I just have to start typing.

Let me tell you about some trivial things that make us father-daughter; perfectionist at the centre of our souls, super duper mega idealistic when it comes to our own principle of life, appear to look younger than our actual age *hehe*. Growing up adopting his traits grows numbers of gap between us. Other than the word ‘gap’ maybe I can safely mention it as ‘unshared interests’.

We don't talk about boys/men I like, or at least about how we agree on the ideas of finding a future boyf/hubb *cringewhiletypingthisiwannadie*. We don't talk about our political views, despite the fact that we both pursue(d) studies in politics. We don't talk about how annoying or how inappropriate it is for woman to be a victim of catcalling-men out there. We don't talk about how researchers predict that by 2050 earth will be populated by approx. 9 billion souls. Etc.

There are many things that we don't talk about. I bet at this point you, random Instagram-caption-reader, start to wonder, what are we talking about then?

Being Vulnerable

It was a really sensitive week for me by the end of last year. Everything just seemed to sound and feel wrong, that my eyes suddenly turned to be an explosive water banks. If I should put this on a poetic imagery, a huge burden was laid on my shoulder as I expected something bigger from myself.

I just cried and cried, with tears streaming down on my red puffy face.

With arms crossed on his chest and highly concerned face, my Dad said that he would find a solution and I needed to stop worrying. As simple as that.

I'm telling you that it's about some kind of 'weird' bond between a father and his daughter that's barely seen but simply felt.

As far as I'm concerned I had never intentionally cried in front of anyone to show how some conditions affect my vulnerability. I mean, to admit that you feel extremely disappointed about something up to a degree that you cry so hard takes real balls to do so. But with my Dad on my side, I just did. He didn't​ express the need to elaborate the problem from A-Z just to thoroughly discuss the 'why it happened' instead of 'how to solve it'.

Maybe it sounds like it’s nothing for some people, considering that this case was all about a nature of a parent and his child. I took it seriously differently. Because the hardship and pressure that I was under, wasn’t even the actual matter, but the way I was bold enough to open up to somebody (who happened to be my Dad) was the time when I felt a sincere affection without unnecessary affection involved. And the way somebody (who happened to be my Dad) could do so much by doing less, is what really matters.

That night just passed with a huge relief and gratitude.

Reflection

I’ve never been scolded by my Dad, the last time he got actually angry at me was when I was 5 years old; my Dad was on the phone and I played along being super noisy, and then he slapped my butt hard until I cried to Mom. At least that’s what I can remember. Even if I make mistakes as an adult my Dad seometimes directly asks me what happened and exchange ideas on problem-solving.

Before the previous story I just told happened to me, I thought I was being princess-ed all this time. I kinda interpret it in slightly different way. My Dad has been protecting my feeling from any kind of harmful emotional ups and downs, that he would rather not scold me instead of making me feel bad whatsoever (hardest part to type….no….tears start flooding……).

To wrap things up, there are times when I don't feel like blabbing about the whole world on and on. By the end of the day, glancing to my Dad's presence means my whole world shaped in a human body, with thousand of unspoken words whisking away in silence.

Out of many old pictures with him, where I was being hugged or squeezed, I think this one suits the caption best. The noticeable distance appears while I'm looking up to things that my Dad teaches me, ensuring that I feel comfortable living life of blessings.

Happy birthday, Papa.

Originally my Instagram caption for my Dad’s birthday. Unfortunately there was words limit on caption box so I had to post this here.

Longest Day Ever

All last semester students in my campus, Universiti Utara Malaysia, are required to go for internship in a company or organization in order to enhance their soft skills and to make use of working environment. Of course, another purpose is to apply and practice numerous theories that we have been taught in lectures for at least 3 years. There is this exception somehow, that students take a chance for being an intern anywhere they want regardless of the relevancy between current study and the company, as long as they can write a practicum report as a partial fulfillment.

And here I am, a student pursuing for Bachelor of International Affairs Management and currently killing time my very first day of internship in CIMB Niaga. I believe the whole nation will wonder, why on earth in a bank?

Quite a Simple Rationale

I was looking for a company in Indonesia, as close as possible to my parents’ house, so that I did not have to pay for huge amount of money to rent a room or house abroad (for example, in a country where I’ve been studying which is Malaysia) or to go through ridiculous traffic jam mostly in Jakarta area. So, living in my parents’ house would be the best choice from financial point of view.

I was planning to apply to 2 different companies. All I can write here is the first company was one of intergovernmental organizations focusing in some type of labor issues. When I was going to ask for further information about the internship application deadline, I found out that their deadline did not match the date for internship registration in my campus. So my chance to enroll in that company was just gone is sudden.

The other company is where I am working now, CIMB Niaga. I applied with expectations that I could get used to working environment and its huge organization structure. I wanted to be able to learn how to communicate and solve real-life problems with everything I had learnt from university for these past 3 years. And of course, to be able to make use of this experience and networks to write my practicum report in relation with my major (at least I thought I would be able to, since CIMB is international banking company anyway). In addition to my choice, this company is located near to my parents’ house which is one of the best deal ever for me. And after sending application and stuffs I began my internship period in September 1st 2016, which is today.

Where I will be working at for the next 4 months. Credits to whoever let Mr. Google found you. 

Now it is currently 16:12, I am neither exaggerating nor complaining, but I feel like this is the longest day in my entire life, as I have been staring to my phone and to my laptop and then read CIMB Niaga News literally for a couple of hours. Maybe I am being passive and not aggressive enough to ask for immediate job to other employees around me, but my soon-to-be supervisor is not here yet so I feel like I have not been introduced formally to this company which makes me feel more awkward to decide what to do next (or to even move, or to even breathe). Thank God for Blogger. I can, at least, being a little bit productive while filling the longest day in my entire life.

Despite the fact that I have no idea what will happen next, I am so excited to experience working from 9 to 5 and to learn more about banking.

Now continue reading CIMB Niaga News.

*This blog post was written on September 1st 2016. I thought I had to post it in celebration of 42 days being an intern.

Taste of Delusion

Social media reflects certain sides of ourselves, guess it's true. What turns out to be the pain in the ass is users tend to unconsciously ask for approval about whatever they want to be, and the activities of sugar-coating presence is endlessly continued.

The example is this brutal honesty. I was about to post a selfie in Instagram because I thought I looked good. I thought so, and I wanted people to be on the same page with me. Doesn't it sound like a 21th century mental illness?

After deleting some of my social media accounts (path, twitter), the thought of quitting the other ones kept coming to me. Sometimes it's exhausting to be dependent to something delusional. But the temptation to chase some kind of satisfaction and relieved feeling of 'being accepted', sadly, is hard to resist.

#nohate #nobutthurtpeople #doesntmeannoselfie #still #longliveselfie #freedomofspeech

Are We All Lost Stars?

I have been listening to Adam Levine’s Lost Stars from Begin Again the movie covered by BTS' one and only cutie pie, 전정국. To be honest, I never knew that the song was exceptionally beautiful. Not because of another handsome guy from magical K-pop industry singing it, the lyric is just flawlessly melancholic that can even make you cry either if you are philosophical-minded or you have a cotton-candy heart.

I am not going to do a song review. Some lines of the lyric just had me treasuring the bottom of my heart.

“Reaching out for someone I can’t see”

I am a kind of person who debates with myself, keeps on arguing and concludes it for my own satisfaction. I do brainstorm to my closest ones pretty often, but keeping things alone is sometimes much more preferable. I do understand if there are many people out there who think that ‘my own thought is the most comfortable place’ because that is what I do to comfort me. Sounds so self-centered, doesn’t it?

In contrast, when this soul finally reaches the peak of loneliness, I realize that I long to meet an unknown figure to talk to about stuffs; meaning as deep and intimate conversation that is priceless and irreplaceable (I can never thank mellow novels and dramas that grow this stupid and cheesy delusion in me, it just happens).

There are times when I feel lonely as hell, no matter how crowded the bus I am walking into or how many times my cell has been beeping for message notification. There are times when I just want to sit for hours with a one-of-a-kind companion, exchange thoughts by talking and listening to each other, and be blinded by adoration of eyes that see world in different ways. There are times when I sing to reaching out for someone I can’t see probably because I keep expecting an imaginary companion to take a look at my individual side, instead of me trying to bravely offer my whole soul to anyone.

“God, give us the reason that youth is wasted on the young”

A classy situation of blaming others will always happen when we cannot get our goals, purposes, expectations, hopes, and wishes perfectly achieved. Sometimes a cruel life is just an excuse for us to keep nagging and complaining. Sometimes it is a waste of time to be naïve and act positively like nothing is wrong. Sometimes you nag not only to a person, but to God as well.

“Who are we, just a speck of dust within the galaxy?”

We tend to think that we know everything just like Sherlock believing that he owns a Mind Palace, though in the end we have to admit not knowing something. This world is just so extremely huge.

It is really easy to lay on the ground under a starry night sky to prove how big this universe is by counting the stars. Same goes to the effort to even try counting hair on your head.

Dealing with the situation when you have to admit that you are invisible or incapable to show your existence, is just the hardest. I believe that most of the times we tend to heal our wounds and vulnerability with arrogant pride, and looking up to the unpredictably huge galaxy instead of looking down to closest ground we have always been stepping on.

Maybe most readers will think that nothing is really superb in this song lyric. But some parts of the song just makes me feel sad sometimes while listening to it, as these parts brought me goose bumps and moved me from my bed to sit and write about this song.