Sunday Ritual (No More)

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Aku tak paham.. Tiap-tiap hujung minggu Mak aku mesti beli Berita Mingguan ngan Utusan Mingguan. Dah berapa minggu dah ni, cerita yang sama keluar, cerita cinta tiga segi Mamat Sepah-Fida-Adda. Minggu satu, keluar kenyataan si polan, gitu gini. Minggu depannya, kuar statement si hamba Allah tu pulak, counter yang si polan cakap. Minggu ni keluar statement si polan counter si hamba Allah. My question is, perlu ke?

Okay, so you all can say, if you're this angry about it, why read it at all? Actually aku pun tak pasti kenapa aku baca. Actually bukan baca sangatlah, more like skim the headlines, tapi aku sentap, sebab weekend paper reading ni jadi ritual hidup aku sejak aku kecil lagi. I read page after page, almost each and every word (sometimes ads are even included, I was that sangap), sebab when it comes to newspapers, aku ngan mak aku serupa, kalau dah lambat (around noonish), baik tak payah baca dah paper tu. Hari biasa of course dulu-dulu aku sekolah and nowadays, kerja, celah mana aku nak baca paper pagi-pagi. So weekend je la yang dapat jadi spot aku teruskan ritual aku...

You see where I'm going with this?

Ni belum masuk cerita wedding sponsor tu lagi. Come on lah, perlu ke cover macam tu sekali? I can feel my brain cells dying just by looking at their pictures, belum lagi aku baca cerita-ceriti yang disempilkan.

Okay, dah, dah, tak payah lah baca... Masalahnya, tak baca pun aku still nampak, and remember the ritual I so cherish my whole life? That ritual is now has to be replaced with another one, I guess... Takkan aku nak keep on doing something yang membunuh brain cells aku?

Can anybody suggest an equally fulfilling and mentally-challenging Sunday ritual?

A More Loving Place

Aku ni dah la emo tak tentu hala (mungkin PMS) dua tiga menjak ni, dengan busy tahap dewa dewi langit ketujuh kejar deadline lagi, dengan baju raya anak2 yang tak siap jahit lagi, dengan kuih yang dah buat tapi belum raya dah nak abis lagi, dalam-dalam aku ingat nak gelak2, aku jenguk blog brader Hazrey ni. And guess what's the latest post that he has? It's about three very, very young siblings who were murdered by their father.

I instantly cried.

It is important to note that my cubicle is very much hidden from the rest of the office and I will see people approaching my area long before they are at my area. So memang kegiatan nangis-nangis tengok video sedih, baca cerita sedih (macam story "Mana Mak?" yang dicirculate macam gila akhir-akhir ni) etc, adalah terlindung. In fact, kalau aku makan masa tak puasa pun terselindung lagi. But that's not the point of this entry.

The point is those three kids. They were two, three and five year old.

Little Hero is three, so there's an instant image that I can project in my mind, when imagining the horrifying last breaths of those children. How scared were they. How none of them could've understood what was going on. Apa sangat yang diorang tahu?

I'd like to think that ar-Rahman was there protecting them that day, was there in some form or way to comfort them, to ease their passing, tapi sebagai seorang emak, sebagai seorang manusia, hati aku merintih sedih. Mata aku menangis for those unnamed children. Pada aku, mereka juga anak-anak aku.

But it's okay babies, you are in a much better place, in a much, much more loving place. A place where you deserve to be. I am so sorry that the adults around you failed you. I am so, so sorry that we failed you, angels. Rest in peace, loves.

Next Time

The next time we think, "Ish, aku tak tahu nak buka apa hari ni,", think of them. And be thankful for whatever little that we have, because THERE ARE people who are WITHOUT any.

The next time our children throw away the food they didn't finish, tell them about these children. And tell them that the scraps they throw away is practically a king's lavish dinner (and breakfast and lunch, probably) in those childrens' eyes (and stomachs).

And the next time you think about our brothers and sisters in humanity and in Islam, send a little prayer of hope their way.

We've gone without food 8 to 10 hours a day. Diorang?

Hasbunallah wa ni' mal wakeel.