[Panggung al-Mamluk]; A Love Story, I Think

After the congregational prayer of Isya' at the Jame' Mosque, when the people started to shuffle back to their respective sanctuary or retreated to the dark corner of the space and supplicate, an elderly silhouette limped to the verandah of the Mosque. No one knows who he is or where he is originated. He was just there.

His body was short and skinny. His face twisted to a permanent scowl but still radiated a tranquilizing aura. He wore the same white robe or occasionally changed his outfit of yellow garments during the Eids, but aside from his cane and his small bagacy, he has nothing.

Children were running everywhere in the verandah, making full use of its great marble pillars to play "police and thief". The old man leaned against the wall and let out a long breath. His eyes are badly damaged; he can't see anything further from the length of his decaying hand. Yet, he saw four figures approaching him. Not with the devilish and mischievous manner of the village youngster, but rather a calm and confidence steps toward him. And, to his utmost surprise, they sat in a circle in front of him, like expecting a sermon from him.

"Kids, can I help you?', he spoke with an ancient grumbling voice, enough to make other kids scampering away.

"Sir, we heard remarkable tales about you", spoke a sweet and soft sound of a female child.

"Yes, indeed. Tales of adventures and the lands of the unknown!", said a confident voice of a boy at his right.

"Of wars, knights, saints and kings, too!", there goes another voice of a boy, with increasing excitement.

And, he flinched when a soft hand grabbed his old hands, and plead with a sweet voice as a canary, "Will you tell us some of them?". The old man leaned over to the girl, and he saw it clearly. The girl's eyes seemed dancing with excitement, and hope.

He exhaled a long sigh. "Alrighty, lads and lasses. Come on, near to me as I will tell you the tales of a distant lands, far from this stinking square of land. Come on now!!". The kids let out a merry hurrah, and the old man almost can feel their delightness in the chilly air of night.

"Now, my story is too long and it is impossible to narrate to you kids this night. They are boring, too. Which one do all of you want to hear?"

The kids retreated and formed a tight circle among themselves. The man chuckled slowly. Aye, he can feel the childish air around them. The kids giggled and then circled him again.

"We want to hear a love story!!", said one of them.

The old man let out a great laugh, which sound more like a bark. "Love story, eh?". Then, he dipped his head and his face darkened.

" One day, a great warrior was soon departing to war. Before he leave, he wanted to clarify a matter. He rode on his white horse and stop in front of a large manor. He politely asked the butler to fetch the lady of the house. Then, an angel with white garments walked towards him who at the gates. She has strikingly white pale skin,  covered by the hijab with hazel and shy eyes. Those eyes has made him out from the world and he made a drastic step; to propose  and take her hand as a rightful and legitimate wife.

He spoke of his wants and his good intentions, his promise to give her his life and everything to win her heart.His visions of a vast estate in the highlands, with gardens of rose and tulips. He expressed his hope to become the companion of her life, and to sculpture a fruitful life with her; and to die with her hands in his grasp. But, the hazel eyes still did not meet his. He extended his proposal with an exasperated tone and eyes started to burn with tears, as he was soon to depart for a war. He wanted for a hope, a beacon to help him in his next agonizing days. And, the angel continued to mute. Then, he left.

But, then he heard a soft voice from the luxurious gates,"I'll wait". He turned back with eyes flickered with hope and replied,'And, I'll be back".

The campaign was disaster. Half of the army freezed to death in the winter and they finally met the enemy in a plain called Khomis. He then served under General Akhtar, a gentleman who won the hearts of his man, the one who inspired him in his downs and fear of the alien world of warcraft. And,  pandemonium unleashed. The plain turned into a stalemate, and General Akhtar's company was badly pinned down by the army. Yet, the thirst of victory did not vanquished from the young general's eyes.. He briefed the remaining platoon in a trench and promised everything will be alright. He lifted the men's spirit and dashed out from the trench. His man followed and then was literally slaughtered. A bullet caught the General in his chest and he brought to the field hospital. The warrior faltered and he knew his end was coming. But, the images of his good cause and the images of the angel waiting for him back at home, he charged alone. He dodged the array of bullets, struck enemies down with his bayonet and reached the final trench before the enemy's battlement. He looked up at the sky and saw a giant green bird. The legends are true then. Fuelled by adrenaline, he marched forward and threw his grenade. The tiny sphere of explosion seemed to be guided by an invincible power and hit the battlement's explosive warehouse.

The world turned into a mayhem of deafening sound and he was thrown away about 40 feet back. His head was excruciatingly painful and the world was topsy turvy. He made it. He let out an agonized chuckle and tried to raise his left hand. But, he can't feel anything and was overwhelmed by the numbness. he looked at his left, and his hand was gone. The world was black.

He found himself in the infirmary and  the way to home was long. It took 3 mor years to complete the campaign, and they succeed even without Akhtar. Finally, he came home. He went straight to the manor and found a child was crying with a cut at his heels at the compound. The warrior approached him and was stunned seeing the boy's hazel eyes. The mother came for the boy's aid and to his surprise, she was his angel. In the manor, Akhtar waved him with a broad smile and invited him to enter. He can't believe this sight. He scanned the women's face but he can't find her eyes. And, she seemed disgust for his amputated arm. With devastated heart, he left.'

"What a sad love story indeed", the girl snapped, cutting the old men from his stories.
"Hey, let him finish his story!", said his brother.

" Allah knew how his heart ached and he wants nothing but death. then, he travelled to the Lands of Saint. There, he learned from the clerics and lead a hermit life. Pledged for celibacy, he never set his eyes upon women again. One day, he heard a lecture which aroused his interest, as the presenter was a woman. He was startled seeing a woman about his age delivering sermons to the public. He later  discovered that the woman was the daughter of the city's greatest scholars.

The fire in his heart was rekindled with new spirit and vigor. He followed the she-cleric and courted her. But, the damsel simply rejected him, making him more and more driven to her. One day, he heard something unbelievable with his own ears. The she-cleric shunned him in front of the public and accused him for a Man of Lust. The mob picked up pebbles and started to stone him. He then departed from the city with again broken heart. All of this caused by a paper."

"What paper?' the girl asked.

The old man reached his left hand with his right and unstrapped the artificial left hand. He winced of the pain and brushed his cheek from the tears. He sighed.

"The name of his future sons and daughters. During the War, the warrior almost died of the cold. But, he took a piece of parchment and a burning coal and wrote on it the names. The names has kept him warm and supplied him with ample spirit to return home. When he was disappointed by The Hazel Lady, he threw it away. And, when he was fall in love to the Saint Lady, he miraculously found it in his bagacy. The parchment has rekindled his hope and assured him that Allah might has given him another chance..."

"I am sorry, but can we know the names, please?', said the eldest among the chldren.

"I..I..I almost forgot about them..But, the name are clear to me now. Umar. Muhammad. Safiyyah and Mardhiah.", the old man recalled. Beads of pearls were running down like a stream down his cheeks.

"Sir, our name is Umar, Muhammad, Safiyyah and Mardhiah!", the band of children exclaimed together.

"Curious. how curious. Such a coincidence. Children, I think that now has past my sleep time. I have to rest. It will be a long day to crawl tomorrow..."

"Please, don't sleep yet, Father. We came here to fetch you home", said one of the girls. Suddenly, the old man's sight was restored and the images of the children are clear and solid. All of the children were smiling with pure happiness. This can't be happening...

The Old Man stiffened. Yet, he leaned over them and kissed their foreheads.."My children. My sons. My daughters. My hope. You have come for me.".

"We have waited long up there,"say Umar.

"Now, He lets us to have you closer with us," said Mardhiah.

"Will you come with us, please?", plead Safiyya, with eyes dancing with hope.

"Of course, my dearest children. I have long waited for this. To reunite with all of you. Eventhough you did not exist in this world," the Old Man now smiled after ages of misery and agony.

Muhammad grabbed the old man's hand and lifted him by his right hand. Safiyya and Mardhiah hugged him by the hips and together the family walked out from the Mosque towards eternal happiness..

Sacrifices are an obligations in this world. In the process, we might lose too many. But, Allah is The Most Fair.

Warmth and companionship of women, the innocence and sincerity of children complements a man's life. It is everyone's dream. But, some of us, who fought for a greater cause, sacrficed this dream. For the greater good.

They are better than me and you. I am not talking about luxuries and wealth, as all of you are very rich (Alhamdulillah) and extravagant. But this Men, they are the best men. They are the Men of God. They are the Martyrs.

May Allah blessed the brave youth of Syria, Egypt, Afganistan, Pattani, Bangladesh, Burma, and all the rest of the world who sacrificed their dreams for a better world for you and I. And, for the women and children they always loved.

al-Fatihah..

[Diari al-Mamluk]: Mampukah Kita?

Bismillahirrahmanirrahim..Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh..

Okay, ambo bukan peramal mahupun pesimistik. Namun,jadikan tulisan ini sebagai renungan. Kalau terasa, ambil insiatif untuk berubah dan  bukannya mengobarkan api pemusuhan. Adab kita sebagai manusia yang ada fikiran ialah, apabila melakukan kesilapan, kita cari penyelesaian. Dan bukannya menjadi seperti Joyah yang ingin orang yang menegurnya meminta maaf kepada dirinya yang khilaf.

Ambo, selaku penulis tulisang ini, juga tidak terlepas dari silap. Ambo manusia biasa. Ambo tidak minta untuk dihormati, dan memang ramai pun yang menentang ambo dari sejak mula lagi. Tetapi, wahai sahabatku, wahai musuhku, duduklah satu meja untuk berfikir seketika apa yang ambo ingin kongsikan ini. Di sebalik tawamu, di sebalik ke-lagho-anmu, kami mendengar banyak perkara tentang kita.

Antara percaya untuk mencipta sejarah.
Antara percaya untuk mencipta sejarah buruk
Antara mencela dan mengutuk.
Antara memandang negatif dan pesimis.
Namun, masih ada yang memegang harapan.

Nama Pencipta Sejarah itu satu sumpahan. Ya, dalam mana-mana cerita Disney ataupun cerita rakyat, sumpahan itu berbaur negatf tapi mampu untuk dineutralkan sebagai satu kesempatan yang positif.

Batch sebelum kita, diberi nama Penebus Maruah. Itu satu tugas dan beban. Semua orang memandang mereka sebagai satu kumpulan yang akan menaikkan nama SAMURA. Mereka juga memandang itu satu cabaran dan mereka berjaya.

Nama kita Pencipta Sejarah. Tidak ubah seperti menggelarkan seorang tukang masak pelatih dengan gelaran Masterchef. Pendek kata, kita memperoleh gelaran ini tanpa setitik peluh pun tumpah! Ini membuatkan kita selesa, terlampau selesa.

Apakah perasaan kita apabila keputusan SPM diumumkan, dan ianya tidak seperti gelaran kita? Masih adakah air muka untuk datang kembali ke sini? Untuk mereka yang berjuang untuk perut sendiri dan bersikap individualisme, ini semua tidak menjadi masalah kepada mereka. Tapi, hakikatnya, kita sedang membina bangunan untuk ke puncak kejayaan dan ia boleh runtuh dengan kesilapan kecil seorang pembinanya.

The worst is, SAMURA ada 331 pembina bangunan itu dan sekolah ini dinobatkan antara calon SPM 2013 yang paling ramai. The principle is, too many cooks will spoil the broth. Apabila ramai sangat tangan, dan ada yang tidak memberi komitmen penuh (kubur sendiri, mereka kata!), bangunan yang dibina dengan air mata, peluh dan darah ahli-ahli yang lain akan roboh.

Kata mereka, hidup ini untuk suka-suka. Wahai orang yang memiliki akal, adakah dunia ini hanya tempat untuk bermain-main? Mulut yang lancang itu akan tiba satu masa pada zaman mereka, di mana muka mereka akan berkerut dan suram dalam kesedihan, kerana hakikatnya dunia luar sana TIDAK MAMPU memberikan keseronokan, kegembiraan JIKA  mereka bersifat acuh tidak acuh. Majikan mana yang ingin mengambil mereka yang telinganya seperti batu, tidak mendengar kata. Tidak ubah seperti keldai, apabila disuruh jalan, tidak ingin. Apabila dicemeti dengan hukuman sebab melanggar peraturan, mereka akan mengamuk dalam kesakitan.

Kata mereka, waktu masih ada dan cukup untuk bertaubat. Katakanlah kepada mereka, adakah Allah itu buta dan bodoh? Adakah Allah ingin menerima taubat "untuk SPM" mereka? Adakah Allah tidak nampak, buta akan kepura-puraan mereka itu? Nasihat saya, contohilah senior kita. Mereka berubah untuk masa depan bukan untuk SPM. Apa yang Batch 30 tidak nampak pada Batch 29, ialah mereka datang kepada ambo dan meminta nasihat. Mereka berceritera akan kisah mereka, dan ambo memberikan jalan penyelesaian. Dan, hasilnya menakjubkan! Berapa ramai daripada mereka kini di negara atas angin ataupu sudah melanjutkan pelajaran dengan jayanya!

Beza mereka dengan kita ialah, mereka menghormati guru dan pemimpin. Sedangkan kita, tidak pernah berhenti untuk memberontak menentang pemimpin. Berapa kali ketua ambo dijadikan bahan fitnah oleh mereka yang menyalak tetapi tidak berani menggigit?

Kata mereka, orang yang lalai juga bole berjaya. Apakah mereka tidak mendengar kisah Firaun, dan Qarun? Firaun itu kaya, dan tidak pernah sakit sepanjang umurnya. Qarun itu kunci gudangnya dibawa oleh sepuluh orang kerana besarnya pembendaharaan dia. Tapi, akhirnya, mereka dimurkai Allah. Firaun ditneggelami air dan Qarun ditelan bumi. Ini namanya Istidraj. Ambo sudah memperoleh cerita tentang beberapa orang yang genius tetapi perangainya ke laut melalui lisan guru dan taulan mereka. Nyata, kehidupan mereka itu dalam paradoks. Duduk di negara atas angin, tetapi terseksa. Senyum di bibir tetapi menangis di jiwa. Menunggu masa untuk direntap syaitan.

Wahai kawanku, maafkanlah kerana baru menegurmu setelah hari hanya berbaki 25 hari, tapi bukankah ku memberikan amaran dari sejak tahun yang lalu?

Kamu berubah dengan begitu pantas, Naqib mahupun Naqibah, Pengawas ataupun yang tidak, sehinggakan aku menggeletar betapa senangnya kau menjual agama. Aku dahulu sesat dan mendaki hidayah dengan begitu payah. Tapi, kamu yang beruntung dilahirkan dalam keluarga sempurna melepaskannya, begitu sahaja?

Aku malu berjumpa dengan Tuhan dalam solatku, kerana aku membawa jemaah yang sikit. Aku takut bertemu Tuhanku dalam tidur kerana betapa ramai rakanku yang umpama kelawar. Aku mahsygul ditatap Tuhanku ketika jaga kerana rakanku bermaksiat. Aku menangis, menegur dan merayu tetapi tiada siapa yang mendengar.

Tercapai ataupun tidak, itu terletak dalam tangan anda.

Ada yang tidak kisah,
Ada yang mahu kahwin awal,
Ada yang mahu bersuka ria,
Ada yang malas berusaha.

Bagaimana pula dengan rakan kita yang,

Berjumpa pengetua, ditempelak,
Berjumpa guru, disinis,
Berjumpa rakan, dicela,
Berjumpa Tuhan, dia malu

Adakah golongan ini meminta bayaran? Atau adakah anda yang lalai yang sebenarnya memohon untuk mereka bayar atas hukuman yang setimpal atas anda?

Ular, kerasukan, ribut.

Allah mengirim ular kepada penduduk neraka,
Allah mengirim jin untuk membinasa manusia,
Dan Allah juga mengirim ribut untu menghukum Aad, Thamud

Apakah ini tidak cukup menjadi petanda untuk diukur??

Perlukah anda untuk terus mencabar dan mencabar sehingga Allah jelmakan dia di sana, dia di situ dan dia di sebelah kamu??

Luar sana, mereka mengesan potensi kita. Aku dan rakan-rakanku mendengar kesemuanya. Kita diibaratkan gergasi yang sedang lena. Ataupun, singa yang sedang mengasah kukunya. Kerana potensi yang sedia ada.

Sekali lagi, ambo mungkin ditempelak setelah anda semua habis membaca entri ini. Dan ada beberapa golongan yang akan menempelak ambo.

Golongan sempurna yang "bebas dari kemunafikan": Dia ni bukanya bagus sangat, nak nilai orang. Hipokrit!!"

Golongan yang "rajin berusaha": Dia ni buta ke? Kitorang dah hadir kelas siang malam, dah kira bersyukur dah?

Golongan "berjimba" : Habis, hidup ini hanya untuk belajar, belajar, belajar ke? Albert Einstein tak habis sekolah pun terima Nobel Prize tau!!

Golongan "cool" dan "kubur sendiri" : Emosional dan ego tinggilah dia ni! Duit pembelajaran ke sekolah ni aku (?) yang tanggung sendiri. kau kisah apa? Woi, kubur sendirilah jaga!! Kau tak tahu ke nanti aku mati, aku kapankan mayat aku sendiri dan timbuskan sendiri(?) ?

Wahai dunia cakaplah apa saja. Daku hanyalah penyampai berita dan penganalisa manusia.

Memang, memang saya hipokrit. Dan, semua orang hipokrit kerana semua orang ada sisi buruk masing-masing yang ingin disembunyikan.

Ya, saya memang buta. Buta melihat ini semua.

Ya, Albert Einstein ialah seorang genius kerana dia masih memilih untuk berjaya walaupun tidak tamat bersekolah. Tetapi, anda bodoh kerana anda memilih untuk gagal walaupun diberi peluang untuk tamatkan sekolah dengan gemilang.

Ya, duit itu duit anda. Tapi, bukan sepenuhnya milik anda. Tetpai, milik ibu bapa anda. Aku sudah acap kali tengok ibu ayahku menangis kerana daku, dan aku tidak sanggup untuk melihat ibu bapa anda menangis.

Tuntas.

Potensi tetap ada. Peluang tetap ada. Pintu taubat tetap ada. Masa tetap ada.

Cuma

Pilihannya terletak pada tangan anda.

Ketepikan semua penghinaan, celaan dan diskriminasi.
Lupakan segala ego dan permusuhan.
Hancurkan setan yang menghasut untuk jatuh.

Dan,

BANGKIT DARI KEGAGALAN. Sesungguhnya semua negara, bangsa dan individu berjaya datang dari kegagalan, kerana mereka SEDAR dan KEMBALI pada PENCIPTA sebelum semuanya TERLAMBAT.

Realisasikan,