Category: Views on Life Page 2 of 5

Intelligence: Overrated Thing

Intelligence is overrated.

People think those who succeed in life are born geniuses. Let me tell you, no. If anything, you can tell me the exact same thing. Everyone started out the same, exact way when they were born into the world.

To be intelligent, first we must learn. Some started early, some much later. Some taught by private tutor, parents, and some had to be self-taught.

To learn, first one has to crave for education. When we live an easy life where education is given, we tend to take it for granted. More often than not, we start to see words and numbers as chores. This is where we drop.

Some of us understand the importance of it. Some of us understand how lucky we are to be able to eat and drink education. This makes us sit in class in silence. We take notes accordingly and ask questions when we don’t understand. Education become our first priority, and we understand the amount of money our parents spend for our studies.

We value, and the appreciation fruits succession.

Lastly, we need to dream.

When we crave so much in life, we will find a strong link between between our goals and the things we learn. This becomes the trigger to our succession, pushing us to work hard until the end.

No one is intelligent from point zero.

Some people simply understand, value, and dream.

And some people, they simply take it all for granted.

The Crown Weighs Heavy

I try and not look into the mirror too much lately.

To be exact, I try and not to see much of my reflection. When I clean up nicely and take a look at her, I see the girl that is far hidden from the world, and I am not talking about fake-face or wearing a mask like in one of those gloomy girl’s diary. My problem is simple.

It’s all physical.

What the world gets to see of me is always the me that is stripped out from my physical appearance. What I wear and how I dress forces people to judge me for who I am, personality and intelligence wise. They don’t see how baby doll dresses look when they hug my tiny figures. They don’t see the way my hair falls into a fair frame around my square jaw that sparks a fair amount of attractiveness.

Sometimes I want the world to see.

At times, I wish the world can see that I have so much more going on for me other than loose tops and long skirt. That I, too, have what the world standardize as ‘beauty’. I hate myself for even letting these thoughts crawl and get underneath my skin, and I hate that I allow myself to feel good when us girls play dress-up and I hear compliments when I wear sleeveless dresses that falls just above the knee.

I am never this self-conscious before. I am always proud with how I can feel good about myself without long locks and short skirts. These thoughts are dangerous place in the corner of my mind. I didn’t need this negativity now of all time, and so  I went into the salon without a second thought to get a drastic haircut.

I wanted to be ugly. Different. Something that makes me not want to show myself into the world.

I didn’t get to do it in the end.

At home, I stared into the reflection in the mirror some more.

Maybe I can post just one photo without Hijab. 

Maybe I can take off my Hijab at school and roll my sleeves for a day and see how people reacts.

Maybe people will see me different then if I dress like everyone else.

These thoughts pass through my mind in a frequent amount that I broke down and right down cried. God must be so upset with me right now. I don’t want to take off my Hijab. I can’t take it off after wearing it for so long.

I am so lucky, I try to tell myself. There are plenty of girls who wish they have the same courage to do what I am considering leaving behind. I am so lucky that I am taught to keep my honor and decency only to those who deserve it, I tell myself each time. Don’t let them get to me, I chant. Why do I have to be pressured to please the world when I can keep things to only those who matters and deserving, who won’t judge, and will see me first for who I am despite my physical appearance?

I am currently not in a good place with myself.

My environment and the people in my social ring don’t make things easier.

I try and tell myself beauty comes in all sort of different ways. If there are people who see bikini as an empowering clothing, then there must be people who see non-revealing clothes empowering as well.

I tell myself  that those whose views of beauty are different from mine are simply taught differently and have different beliefs on beauty.

People are just different that way, I tell myself.

I will believe this one day.

Respect Should Be For Men As Well

I am all for feminism, at a certain degree. I believe in women being able to stand in an equal ground with man. I believe in women having the freedom to do anything as much as men do. It’s a guilty pleasure to see women in a successful, strong, overpowering position.

However, I need to draw the line in where I hate to see women degrading men in doing so. The reason why I brought this topic up at all is because I see couples around me in which the women feel it is okay to degrade men, both in public and in social media. The moment I decided I want to become a wife, I always believed the proper manner I need to act as a soulmate is to first and foremost respect my other half. If I am dissatisfied or unhappy, it will be something to discuss behind closed doors and not for everyone to see.

If my husband has a flaw, it will be something that he and I fix together.

So it surprised me when I found out not all women feel this way. I find certain girls badmouthing their partners on social media, to their friends, humiliating their partners’ pride in the process. I was too curious to let it go despite it not being my business. I approached a friend of mine, male, and asked him if he knew all the things his partner writes online about him.

“Yeah, but I stopped caring about it.”

The other day, a friend also said, “If she’s angry with me, she usually calls me nasty names.”

I was baffled, “And you let her?”

He shrugged, showing indifference.

It broke my heart that males have come to accept these treatments. They weren’t supposed to be okay. Girlfriend or not, they should feel obliged to stand up for themselves. Just like how abusing women is wrong, the same need to be said about men. To me, it wasn’t about gender anymore. Degrading someone was generally wrong and supposed to be looked upon.

So maybe the renaissance era isn’t too bad now, considering the ladies in that time respected their husbands to the fullest.

Here’s to respect

Here’s to Those Who Didn’t Make It

There are a lot of things that I can’t tolerate in life.

Cigarettes, bully, injustice, disrespect, disobedience towards God, and negativity in general.

The thing is, I never look at it as my job to do anything about it. It was in my daily policy to just shut up and do only as far as throwing dirty looks and that’s it. I already get enough trouble as it is with how I can’t seem to keep my opinion in a tiny box, so it was only natural that I try to let the things that irk me the most go.

Until two weeks ago.

My school is currently running tests to select great individuals to become the next student council, or OSIS, if you will. The first process was for the freshmen to collect their papers based on what was needed. Their grades, recommendation letters, certificates, everything that can show the authorities that they have what it takes.

There were sixty-four names that made the cut out of nearly ninety.

It was only natural for some people to not make it. That is simply how life goes,you fail and succeed, and then you move on. Except I realized those who didn’t make it were the kids that I wanted to be in the Student Council the most.

One man judgment was not enough to do anything, but it was never really only me. It was almost everyone from my year of Student Council. It took us days to repeat the same words, “Why the hell did they not make it?”, “How is the next student council going to be without them?”.

It wasn’t fair for those who did make the cut, it was as though we didn’t trust these kids enough to do well in the future, I admit that now. However, those were the honest words that came out of us during moments of desperation.

Until two days ago, we realized something had to be done. For whose sake, I’m not sure. We wanted the kids who didn’t make it for different reasons, and we plotted under emotional exhaustion to do something.

At the end of the day, it was all words, until I decided it could be more than just words if someone would do something.

That was perhaps the first time I did things that wasn’t my job or place but did it anyway. I met the vice principal the next day and asked to talk in private. I took out the papers that I’ve scribbled what I want to say in and started my small speech.

I understand that three of my leaders have come to you before along with the kids who didn’t make it, and tried to make an agreement with you and failed. The reason why I’m here today is no different than theirs.

OSIS, or the student council, is an organization, and most of all a place for brilliant students who can prioritize their own necessity to look for experiences that can teach them what teachers can’t offer in class.

To ensure the success of every organization, you need great individuals who have clean agendas to make due with all the lessons and organizational work, hence why you said there’s no excuse for those who have shady after-school agendas.

I understand why you said this. The previous student council didn’t really put up a very good example, perhaps us included. I understand that there are a lot of regret going on around the teachers, that when you take a look at us, you must wish you could have reformed us into an organization that will do more good than harm, and when you finally have the chance to do so, you chose the most brilliant students that you believe will do a better job than we did.

You chose individuals based on their academic brilliance and less on their social skill. I understand that perhaps you believe that these skills can be learned along the way, but when you are forming a herd of sheep, there’s got to be a lion to lead every pack, and we don’t see that from these kids. We being the current student council and the candidates themselves.

For students who are academically lacking, then I understand if you can’t tolerate them, but for students who are half decent but only intolerable because of their after-school agendas, then I’m asking you to give them a chance. There must be a way for these kids to prove themselves to you. At the end of the day, you don’t have to accept them, but at least please let them show you what they can do. You can test them however you see proper.

If something you fear happens, I believe the kids are fully prepared to have their position ripped off of them. Just because they made the wrong decision in their first year of high school, it doesn’t define who they will be for the rest of their high school career. Ma’am, I saw my brother. I saw how he was back in his tenth grade and who he eventually became when he walked away to Japan in that airport.

The student council are all willing to give them a chance, to take our day off and test them. All we need is for your approval, please give them a chance.

That’s what I said.

I should have known it wasn’t that simple.

The vice principal then told me all the things she believed I needed to hear about the time during the making of that decision. She was a very fair and just person. She, along with the principal and the other vice principal already thought very carefully about it. It wasn’t just about the after school agendas. It was about behavior, general supports, grades, and religious records. She asked me on whose behalf I was there, and I told every truth I had with me.

I tried, let me tell you that.

In every reason she told me no, I found a reason that it can be a yes. We threw all we had back and forth, with me constantly looking for a way and her shutting that door.

At the end, I asked her, “Is there really no way?”

I already knew the answer before she said it. It was just the two of us in her office, and her eyes were full of regret when she said a decisive, “No, and perhaps I will be proven wrong in the future about these kids’ potentials, but for now, I have to make a decision, and this is my decision.”

“I understand,” I told her, and I really did.

I don’t hate her for that.

She was a wise woman and I respect her dearly. She is the kind of person I want to be when I grow up. Graceful, poised, smart, and looked upon. She apologized, though she didn’t have to, and I dismissed myself back to class.

I tried.

I did, and I’m sorry if it doesn’t change anything.

I really am.

Here’s to you.

He Who Comes First

I can’t love you
no, good sir
not when your path
strays from God

He matters 
far more than you
i have strayed
away too far

it’s not that 
I’m not in love
it’s just that
you’re too far gone

in that 
paradise of yours
there is no God
to be found

in the end
I am His first
the heart beats
to His desire

so with this
I let you go
to sort out
what matters more

may we find
the other one
in His holiness
good grace.

Torn’s Interpretation

In the spirit of #freekesha, I thought I’d come up with another song interpretation post that spins around the theme sexual abuse. This is the song Torn by Natalie Imbruglia and how I see it.

I thought, I saw a man brought to life
He was warm, he came around and he was dignified
He showed me what it was to cry

The man mentioned here is no stranger to the woman. This man is someone close, a lover or a family, even, and she saw him as a man she trust enough to teach her things about life.

Well, you couldn’t be that man I adored
You don’t seem to know
Seem to care what your heart is for
But I don’t know him anymore

Which is why she is in a denial when something terrible happened. The man that she adored suddenly turned into a man who uses what he has for all the wrong reasons, and she realizes she no longer know who that man is.

There’s nothing where he used to lie
The conversation has run dry
That’s what’s going on
Nothing’s fine, I’m torn

This can be interpreted as literal empty bed, or a man who loses the warm soul and turns into an empty heartless shell that she thinks he is. She becomes unaware of who he is, and the happiness in the past is nothing but little conversation now. She’s not okay.

I’m all out of faith
This is how I feel
I’m cold and I am shamed
Lying naked on the floor

She no longer trust the man, and this can be interpreted as the moment where she becomes the victim to the sexual abuse, which is shown by the verse cold and ashamed, lying naked on the floor. The man she loves uses her for sexual pleasure that she gives no consent of whatsoever.

Illusion never changed
Into something real
I’m wide awake and I can see
The perfect sky is torn
You’re a little late, I’m already torn

She denies the rape, of course, and she wishes for everything to be nothing but a dream where everything will be okay again once she opens her eyes, but alas, the truth is the truth, and she can’t change the fact that she is, in fact, a rape victim. When she asks for help, it is already too late, because she is already pieces of rough edged puzzle that doesn’t fit with one another anymore.

I remember interpreting that when I was mere thirteen or fourteen, and my view has not changed even once about the song. I can not bother to look for the real interpretation, and I don’t think I can ever see the verse lying naked on the floor without thinking it’s a song about rape.

What happened to Ke$ha is an unfortunate event, and in a way I am glad that it is publicized, because now we all know the entertainment life isn’t the prettiest world, and I am happy that she tried to defend herself instead of cowering in fear inside her room. I am proud that she chose to tell and let everyone see that she is not becoming a victim forever, that she will be a survivor and leave a ton lighter with the burden off her shoulder. She deserves the applaud that everyone has to offer, and she deserves to feel accomplished and better for deciding to do something about it.

Now all we need to do is free her and let her walk away as a survivor with repaired pair of wings flapping on her chain-free back.

Here’s to all rape victims in the world.
Tell someone, it gets better.

Teen Marriage Q&A

The closer I get to 17, the more anxious I become about the actual topic of getting married. Like every single girl out there, marriage and wedding is the one thing in life I wish to be made perfect. Perfect groom, dress, venue, food, ring, and just about everything. It’s this one day in the life of a girl that just has to be completely perfect, excuse the repetition of the word. And the nearer I get to the date, the more photos of different men are being showed and the more my friends are questioning my sanity as a teenager. These are the most frequent questions they ask that I feel the need to make it clear for everyone.

Q: Why so soon? Aren’t you rushing it?
A: Because I want to feel love the way you can, just in a Halal way. I want to go to movies, make funny videos, talk about life, cuddle, and do all those stuff without feeling guilty about sinning and all that, you know? I want to enjoy my youth while it last with someone I love.

Q: What if you don’t love him?
A: I will have to, eventually. I’ve always dreamed of marrying the person I love, but I suppose now I just need to work on loving the person I’ll marry. I believe that love is a feeling that shows its head when two work for it.

Q: Who’s the guy?
A: I don’t know, we’re still looking.

Q: Is he going to be the same age as you?
A: I’m a dominant person, so I’m hoping for an older guy, the gap of age can make me respect him better. I’d also prefer it if the guy is not someone that I know before. I like the idea of having a new start with someone who doesn’t know me so we can start that ‘getting to know each other’ process together.

Q: Don’t tell me you’re going to become a teen mom!
A: No! God, I’m not planning on getting pregnant so soon, I still have university and career to think about. I’m not getting married to raise a family, I’m just getting married to have a proper relationship.

Q: What if he wants to?
A: These things can be negotiated, right? I’ll only be 17 after all.

Q: Who’s going pay for university if he’s still the same age as you?
A: His parents and mine, at least until the two of us can get a proper career—or I’ll have scholarship to afford my daily needs.

Q: If you find someone you click with, are you going to text back and forth with him?
A: No, I don’t think so, not until marriage at least.

Q: How are you going to know his personality and all that?
A: If things are fixed, his family is supposed to come to my house to get to know each other and all that before the actual engagement.

Q: What if he treats you badly?
A: When I find someone, I’m going to pray and wait for Allah’s answer if he’s the one. I have faith that whoever Allah choses for me is the perfect one, and hence no such thing as marrying the wrong guy.

Q: When’s the wedding?
A: Depends on where I’ll go to university, but I’m hoping for the ceremony to be a simple thing at home soon after the engagement, just to make things Halal. That way I can have pre-wedding photos and plan for the wedding together.

Q: Aren’t you scared?
A: I am! Hahaha, I am. What if he can’t speak English? What if he doesn’t like traveling? What if he wears baggy pants? What if he won’t go to musicals and forbids me from singing altogether? What if he won’t take selfies and such?

Q: Is this because you’re not allowed to date?
A: I don’t want to date. It’s my choice.

And I suppose that’s what I need everyone to understand. That everyone has a choice, and I’m choosing mine. Please respect that.

Picking the One

I spent 2015 thinking I could forget about love and chemistry and just find someone, anyone, to be my future husband. He could be five years older or two years younger, as long as he was ready for marriage, I didn’t care.

It was easier to think about marriage without doubts when you don’t care about the whole equation and just focus on the results.

Then we hit 2016, and uncertainty started crawling their ways through my current stone-cold heart.

Aside from religious, what if he’s not witty enough? What if he can’t understand how I think and see the world? What if he can’t follow my jokes and laugh at scandalous idioms? What if he’s shy and won’t be willing to make memorable vlogs of our marriage together? Oh–What if he can’t speak English?

The thoughts are never-ending, twisted things. It’s like sinking deeper and deeper into a never-ending ocean without finding ways of coming up for air.

It’s January 2016 and I’m horrified at the idea of finding the wrong one. Funny thing about love is you know exactly what you don’t want but have no single clue of what you want. It’s a cycle of let’s try and see if we click, and sometimes two are just not meant to click.

And gone is now the thoughts of anybody as thoughts of somebody specific reappears. Thoughts of man I crossed out from the calculation for being too distant and non existent–

–Oh, and there’s also thought of one other man too, smart enough to joke and have fun with, who is currently laying in hospital for being sick. If only that man is capable of English–

–and willing.

Look how pathetic I’m being.

I suppose even I can’t just say  yes to anybody breathing Islam. I just wish people who do aren’t so primitive and stuck in a different era completely.

Here’s to looking and finding.

You Had It Coming

This won’t be one of those long blog post where I complain about humanity, being myself, or people being generally fake. This is just one of those things in my life that I’d like to remember forever, and hence why I’m writing this to make sure it stays as part of my memory when I’m older.

Yesterday, my friends and I went to this boarding school to do some little renovation to the library for our student council’s project, and us girls got into talking while we were waiting for the painters to finish repainting the library. It was small talks of marriage and what ifs, mostly. It was around four in the afternoon, and they were asking questions about how serious I was about deciding to marry at such young age. I told them the reason why I chose to do so and eased their curiosity a tiny bit.

I was about to head to the boarding school’s mosque to pray when a friend asked, “How can you be such a believer?”

Despite the busy noise, it felt like everything buzzed into distinct voices far away as everything focused only to her and I.

I chuckled and answered as honest as I could. “It’s my family, not me. I was born to it and just gone along with it.”

She frowned, “But have you ever wanted to become like those girls out there?”

This time I laughed, because oh how dearly I wished to wear graceful strapless dress, curl my hair, and wear tight skinny ripped jeans. How I wished to show off all the curves and skin to satisfy men, as degrading as it was.

“Yeah,” I nodded without second thoughts in my amusement. “But you know what makes me not go down that path?”


I smiled, I wanted her to understand. “My mother didn’t say I can’t. She simply said that I was old enough to understand what’s right and wrong, and so the choice is in my hand. It’s up to me. You know, your life’s your choice, and god, how can you not choose what’s expected when said those words to?”

She seemed to get it, as a fellow hijabi.

Because that was what truly happened probably five years ago. I remember sitting in my bed in my old bedroom before the renovation, and I didn’t want to cover my hair. I asked her to please just let me, she spoke those words to me.

I was already a big enough girl to understand.

And when you realize the choice to go down in the hell was in my hand just as much as the choice to fly up to the heaven was, and you just don’t want to be responsible for sins that still can be avoided. You don’t want to be that person who regrets later in the afterlife and think, “I should have done this sooner while I still had the chance,” or “If only I hadn’t done this.”

Because at the end of the day, if they decide I belong in hell, it will be my own doing and nobody else. It’s because I caused my own pain and I’d be fully responsible for the torture they’re prepared to hit me with.

And that is not something that I wish to be responsible for.

And so, yeah, as half-assed as a believer that I am, I’m trying to avoid that painful hammer of judgement. It’s what I chose, and you can choose whatever you want for yourself. You’re all big enough to understand the rewards and the consequences, and you should be fully content with knowing that you have the freedom to choose. No one is forcing you to do what you’re comfortable with, but just one thing that you should remember.

It’s your own doing.

Here’s to freedom,
Here’s to choices.

In response to: Reason to Believe

Love is (Vanishing) In the Air

So I was sorting through my documents the other day and found a doc under the title of ‘What the hell’. Since I couldn’t really remember what I wrote in there, I checked it out and laughed once I recalled what it was about. I made a view changes here and there so it’s a bit friendlier than when I first wrote it. Enjoy!


What the hell.

That’s practically the only sentence I got to express how I feel with all these ridiculousness. When did romance become such a childish ‘Look, he texted me!’ crap? Where are love letters, honest conversation, and deep look filled with transparent intention of wonder struck moments?

Maybe it’s just me feeling all lost and wronged without them, but surely the rest of the world feel the same?!

I’m a hopeful romantic, I give you that. I’ve always been that person who believes that romance should be about honest conversation and getting to know one another in a sincere way. With electronic communication on our asses, it certainly became a difficult situation for us to live with honesty and respect toward the opposite gender.

I believe in men chasing after the ladies of their lives for years, with all attempts of wooing the lady into opening up their heart with respect. I believe in ladies having the space they need to make proper decision, I believe in men not giving up on their dream ladies just because of one simple rejection, and I believe in men showing the effort that they are actually the men of their words.

Where has that gone into, really, or is it really only a movie thing?

Damn, I wish we were in the ages where romance was being treated seriously.

Yeah, I wish.

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