the prophet's hands by dawud ali

Holding to the wheel, each mile closer to conclusion.
His knuckles and his strands of hair are slowly turning white.
As he studies all the lines, like highways on his hands,
he recalls how straight the road once seemed, as he is left wondering what’s right.
The paths all curve and bend, sometimes he thinks they’ll never end.
How much longer will he push on? How much more can he pretend?

:love: 
The Prophet’s hands, silken smooth and soft to touch,
sometimes he needs those hands so much,
to feel them clasp his own, let him now he’s not alone.
The Prophet’s hands, If they could take over the reigns,
if they could take away the strains,
guide him to the end with the patience of a friend.
Oh Allah, sometimes he needs the prophet’s hands.

:love:
Stepping out to work each day, come whatever weather.
Father of the house he holds worry in his hands.
While she stays home left all alone, hands warn from too much ironing,
T.V. churns out but illusions....claims to know but hardly understands.
They greet but hardly meet, upon an endless dead-end street,
while children break the stormy silence of the palms raised in defeat.

:love:
The Prophet’s hands, silken smooth and soft to touch,
sometimes they need those hands so much,
to feel them clasp their own, let them know they’re not alone.
The Prophet’s hands, can bind husband and wife,
remind them why they share a life,
clasp them both upon his heart, gently help them make a start
to hold each other as they’d hold the Prophet’s hands.

:love:
Standing in the market square, so alive but void of life.
We work and we sweat and we struggle through each day.
As our efforts scar our hands, this world stains us with demands.
It’s hard to see life’s humour in the business games we play.
As we gnaw our nails with stress, our fists and hearts pound so carelessly.
With every effort forward, how much more can we digress?

:love:
The Prophet’s hands, silken smooth and soft to touch,
sometimes we needs those hands so much,
to feel them clasp our own, let us know we’re not alone.
The Prophet’s hands, as we toil in the square, come up behind us unaware.
Playful palms across our eyes, teasing to help us realize,
We need the jesting, joking, calming Prophet’s hands.

:love:
The Prophet’s hands,
silken smooth and soft to touch
sometimes we needs those hands so much,
to feel them clasp our own and let us know we’re not alone.
The Prophet’s hands, If they could take over the reigns,
if they could take away the strains,
guide us to the end with the patience of a friend.

:love:
Oh Allah, sometimes we need the Prophet’s hands.
Oh Allah, sometimes we need the Prophet’s hands.
Oh Allah, sometimes we miss the Prophet’s hands.

The winding road

"The winding road that takes me home...
I'm going there someday, I know...
it's there beneath the shadows...
the winding road..."

I don't expect you to come and save me
all of you
I used to think about every one of you
yes
I don't deny it

even today
I still think about it

but now I realize
Who is the sustainer
and how short life really is
how short transition is

and think less about all of you

transition:
it's when you feel like it's long
but "in reality", is very short

you feel like it's an hour or two
when in fact it's 15 minutes

exhale...........
don't forget to breathe
and let go

Kampungku

I have decided to become part of my village. I have decided to make, where I live, 'my village'. In my village, my family is at the centre. Some of my villagers are very good, gold-hearted people who do self-less acts. On the other hand, sometimes some of villagers might "betray" me, while that's not really all that right, cool and fine, but to it I will push myself to say "c'est la vie" and "ad-dunya hakazha" and "hazha adiy". Sekian, terima kasih.
p.s since sekarang ni kita ada "global village", I accept the global village as my village and try to make my cyber-villagers my real-life friends.

ana uhibbukum, kullukum*

I love all of you, all of you*

Me; customer

Just my two cents as a "consumer".

Ok, as a hyper-sensitive consumer. 

The seller's attitude and warmth really-REALLY matters to me. 

Ok. Not all the time. Sometimes if i think they're just judging me based on how I look or my race or religion and that I need to "break the ice" (yes, I really do think this way even as me as a customer), I actually don't care about how they treat me and smile as I pay and inquire for my item. 

Example: I wanted to buy some Peng shar (a type of minarel used to clean and also make gooey slime) at a store and the man seemed pissed that i inquired, for some reason. He flung the packet of peng shar at me (to the countertop). I politely said thank you and paid. 

But at other times, I simply cannot endure people who aren't sensitive to mothers and/or have no netiquette or whatchamacallit. 

Example: 

Most programs nowadays uses whatsapp as a medium to register. So as i made my inquiry, the reply I got was "baca Dan fahamkan maklumat di bawah" without any Bahasa berlapik i.e "puan, di bawah ini disertakan maklumat yang di minta". Therefore I am totally put off by his behaviour and gives it a miss! 

Sellers who are too pushy, too forward and not sensitive to mothers also put me off. Then I realized that that simple "hello" even if just "forced formality" is very significant. PR is a big thing for me. Bagi kawan-kawan penjual Jangan terasa Ya, insha Allah anda semua bagus-bagus. Sekadar luahan dek Kerana penjual yang pernah di temui di alam realiti. 

Islam is NEVER. EVER. EH. VER. paternalistic.

watch this. Islam liberated women

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPJJmNlEGTo

After the anger

One day or less than one day
that's how long it is
that's how long my life is
from birth to standard one, to teenager angst
to college to marriage to birthing
through tears and laughter and whatever

yet you know what
when it comes to human relationships
there's so much tension and anger and disappointment and more
yet after all that
all I want to do is love.

All I feel is love.
I love you and I don't want to go to hell.
Yes you read that right.
I'll say it again.

I love you and I don't want to go to hell.

You may be a perfect stranger or an *ajnabi or the prime minister of Malaysia
or the president of USA who cares
I don't get reward points if YOU go to hell
and YOU don't get reward points if I go to hell either

So I'll say it again
whether you're a stranger or my brother
I'll say a prayer for you
that despite of all our failed attempts
you and I will enter Jannah
I love you and "I" don't want to go to hell

We all really don't
You don't deserve hell either
shaitan just makes you think you don't deserve Jannah

I want to tell you
that dunya life is ALL about having problems with EVERY SINGLE FREAKING THING
you either let it define you and feel bothered all the time
or,
you could say, "ah, c'est la vie" and smile a bittersweet smile
as you just move on until you hear them say,
**"peace unto you for that you persevered in patience!"
"Now how excellent is the final home!"

remember, just press the pedal forward
until you hear them say that......


__________________________________

*ajnabi: gosh, just realized I don't know how to properly define this word. a man to whom a woman is unlawful to (marry) (?) but isn't from her family.

** surah ar-ra'du, 13th chapter, verse 24

This piece is partially dedicated to my sister in islam Qistin :)

Hollywood's Joseph

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AH8ogpmGs5s