Wednesday, July 26, 2017

why oh heart

Why is it so easy to forget one's evil deed?

Be strong, heart. Be hard. Be firm.

Move on.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

you have my heart, at least for the most part

Perhaps because I appear somewhat flamboyant, choosing not to trust in my words is easy for some. Like how a man in whose hands I put my trust could tell every single person around me that I am a liar.

If anything, I am at times too bluntly honest. I might cherry-pick details, but I do not lie.

This time, I have my evidences. These bruises on my right shoulder, right arm, left wrist, right knee. This swelling on my back. This mark on my right arm outlining someone's palmprint. These are my evidences.

Like how someone yelled at me to shut myself up in front of the public as I begged him to stop and return my belonging. They are my witnesses. 

Like how I got dragged onto someone's car as I desperately tried to escape, but not without my possessions.

As I desperately sent desperate pleas for help from a fellow female acquaintance. Yes, acquaintance. A person I had known for barely a year but betrayed my trust in every single aspect. Woman to woman, if you were in my shoes and I were in yours, I would go to extents you could never imagine with one mission in my head. "Save her", but there you were. Just as your bloodline. You defended him while he violated me. He took away my sense of freedom. He made the only place I once experienced joy from constant adrenaline-rush, a hell for me. 

That night, Allah showed how much of a liar one can be. Perhaps he's good with words. So good to the point that I began to doubt myself. Am I really that horrible person he portrayed me to be?

That night, Allah showed me how much of a liar one can be. He knows that being soft-hearted is my weakness, but Allah always has better plans. As I read his lies, one by one, as much as I wanted to believe him, truth was put on the table. As naked as it could be. How three strangers and three friends became my witnesses. 

But these bruises. They will speak on my behalf. My evidences sent to numerous people for safe-keeping. Just in case anything happens to me. This post alone might spark rage unlike anything I have seen, but I am doing this to be fair to myself. Just in case anything happens to me. 

If something grave really happens to me, dear people who encouraged him and believed in him, my blood is on your hands.

To those who betrayed my trust... the afterlife awaits us. Preach righteousness all you want, but one should not underestimate the weight of being entrusted secrets. One should not underestimate evil deed committed on another fellow being. You shall forever be indebted to me for this.

Thursday, June 29, 2017

could it be any harder

"Like sand on my feet
The smell of sweet perfume
That sticks to me forever, baby"
- Could It Be Any Harder by The Calling

Self-restraint

Remember the pain

Remember the words

Remember the cusses

Remember the prison, the cage

Remember the treason, the ache




I close my eyes, hoping everything had never happened. Back when I had not tasted love.

Sleep doesn't come easily these days. I kept getting 4 hours of sleep or less these days. By midnight, I'd fall asleep. 4am my mind would be wide awake. The thought of having insomnia looms. How terrified I am to go through it all over again.

To hope is to risk being disappointed.

Remember that, Zahirah.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

pause

"Why don't we hit restart and pause it at our favourite part

We'll skip the goodbyes.."

- Tiger Lily by Matchbook Romance

A few days ago, as I was working beyond office hours, a few old memories came flashing back. Like how I used to look forward to seeing someone right after that. Or perhaps during on calls when no matter how tired I was, I would not mind seeing that familiar face.

I found myself sobbing over what's lost. It would not be right to get back for all the wrong reasons, when I know that I had given enough chances. To be hurt and recover repeatedly... to what extent can the heart bear such pain? To what extent can the heart repair itself? To what extent can the mind subconsciously block bitter memories so that new ones can be made and cherished?

It was just a couple of months ago that I dared bringing up the topic of marriage to my mother. And barely days after that, I was made to feel how terrible of a person I am. That marriage is something I fear. That how fearful it is to put your neck on that chopping board, hand a man a knife, and trusting in him not to slam it down. Threat by threat. Humiliation by humiliation.

At this point, I am giving it a rest.

I looked at my parents. I looked at my patients. At times, I'd feel so exhausted that to walk just another pace, to extend a limb just to reach those instruments, to reorganise my mind and plan my treatments, become such a struggle, my knees feel like they're about to give way.

I will stay on my own. Sacrifice my life for people I might not even see a few weeks later. Sacrifice my life for my parents. I don't have much good deeds, but I know that God is All-Just. May these little ones bring peace in me.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

carefree

It feels good to have all my siblings under one roof. The last time we had such opportunity was during our Cairo trip. Before that, we last saw our youngest brother, Ahmad, almost 2 years ago.

I feel at ease.

Trying to recall the times I felt like this...

Perhaps during those night drives with my two juniors, Acap and Ziyad. Roaming aimlessly in Kelantan, listening to metal music, occasionally stopping at random beaches, just enjoying the sea and good food. Our jamming sessions at a mediocre studio near the university. Lower lip pierced. And I was the batch leader. I had people staring at me disapprovingly but really. Like I cared.

Or maybe when I was a kid, playing in a monsoon drain because normal children slides were overrated. Sliding down a slope on a paperbox sounded like a great idea. It still does now.

Or maybe during highschool, when it felt cool to skip classes and flee from our late-discipline teacher. I can still remember his faded jade green Toyota Unser, a cane in his right hand. Coming to school at 8am like it's no one's damn business.

Perhaps when I was offered a place at this OMF surgery department. Finally, free from school treatments, workplace politics, and paperworks! Free from a cheater and all his baggage too. Life felt so good at that time. I was up for an adventure I had little idea about. I knew it'd mean chucking my personal life aside, but, it's so worth it.

Or maybe now that I can do whatever and whenever I want. For myself. Not for anyone else. Like how I knew it wasn't an urgency to change the under tray cover of my car and yet, I prefer every part of my car to be intact, so I straight away drove to the service center and submitted its payment. Paid and ordered myself 3 pairs of my usual powered contact lenses because I hate waiting for the order to arrive every damn month. It feels best when you do something for your own sake.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

mixed signals

A few months ago, I would not be able to hold back a smile when I receive a surprise.

And yet today, I received unexpected gifts, but I felt no desire to smile. I felt no amusement. I felt no joy. I did experience agitation, though.

How can so many mistakes be fixed with gifts? No gift can bring me to forgiveness.

Damage is done. Damage is done.

My brain works wonders this time. I seem to have forgotten memories which were once precious at heart. I seem to forgot how he looks like, but I can still certainly feel the heartache. Like it was just yesterday that I was hurt so badly. Disgraced like my dignity worth nothing. Threatened as if I was an archenemy. Accused like a murderer, found guilty before I could stand up for my defence. Belittled as if I possess neither intelligence nor logic. At one point I actually believed myself to be the devil he portrayed me to be - until my good old friend, Hanif, said, "Taklah. You're a good person". There's something about this lad that somehow, can calm me down no matter how bad a storm I am trapped in. Jangs for laif, brah. Jangs for laif.

At the moment, I just want to meet as many people as I can. Make new friends. Broaden my horizon. Feel free and soar high into the sky.

It's time for me to move on.

thoughts

Lying on my bed. Thick blanket wrapping my body, giving false sense of comfort. Looking at my reflection on the ceiling fan. Thoughts running through my mind.

How did it get to this?

How could a person change like this? It only took a distant third party with almost zero significance.

How could a person on whose shoulder I sobbed over my sad past, to whom I revealed my deepest troubles, be the very causative factor of this long-forgotten misery?

Betrayal, comes in many forms. Of all, emotional betrayal is the most painful.

Two days ago, after holding back my conflicting emotions, trying my best to appear as strong as I could, I found myself again sobbing over something that is beyond repair. Damage is done.

I gathered every ounce of courage I could to open my heart once again. To love a soul sincerely. And yet my sincerity is being doubted, despite having nothing to hide. Accusation by accusation, this heart I mended with all my might shattered into pieces. Pieces so micro, I can't seem to pick them up with my two hands, I sensed anxiety looming over me yesterday.

Be strong, Zahirah... believe in others' kindness. That one evil soul does not represent the whole population.

Have hope. Have hope. 

To my three guardian angels, Kurol, Hanif, and Murni... thank you for protecting me. Thank you for keeping my sanity intact.