Lost: A Short Story by Muhamad Solahudin bin Ramli

The writer believes that a beautiful camaraderie makes life a wonderful journey.

She was lost in her thought, again. The pouring rain outside the window sang her a song of reminiscence that made her go down memory lane. This time, the picture was so clear and vivid as if she had finally given the priceless chance to be a time traveller. She was smiling with the hope that her mind would choose glorious days as its destination instead of those grievous moments she once had to endure. The sudden sound of thunder made her eyes blink and a happy girl with a paint brush in her hand appeared on her mind. The girl dreamed to be like Leonardo da Vinci, Pablo Picasso and Michelangelo. This ambitious daydreamer always looked forward and aimed high. This girl was her.

                Painting was her passion and she could never live without her palettes and painting boards. Imagination helped her forget her worries and weepy days as she could venture into a special space of her own creation. Fantasy made her build her desired world full with merriment and excitement. That was one of the few reasons a smile was flashed on her face. Deep inside her heart, she knew that the wonderful images lingering in her mind would not happen in reality and she would come back to being a quiet girl who kept all the untold feelings no one could unfold. Still, she never stopped hoping that she would be blessed with a new day when somebody could find her to listen to her stories of life. All she needed was empathy and not sympathy for she knew that the latter would just make her feel worse.

               

A lightning strike had surprised her as she was recollecting her past. Out of the blue, three friendly and familiar faces joined her recollection. They were her joyful and helpful friends who changed her life for the better and she could never be grateful enough for the three blessings she was given. God had listened to her prayers and her wishes too had been granted well. Sarah, Siti and Orkid were her laughter when she was down and moody. They were her medicine when she was not feeling well, and they were her solution when things went wrong. She personally loved the fact that Orkid was named after a beautiful type of flowers she truly admired and perhaps that was why she was closest to her.

                Their friendship was so strong that it just grew stronger on any day unlike the decaying leaves and melting snows. They never gave up and lost hope as they believed in the line, “Together We Stand, Divided We Fall”. Although all of them came from different backgrounds, they still managed to develop chemistry and camaraderie just like other close friends. Their great level of maturity and sensitivity had taught them that everyone was special in His eyes and there was nothing wrong to do something right. They understood that everything that happened to her in the past was not her choice but a fate she had to undergo. As true friends, they kept supporting her to go on with life and to survive the days with confidence and hope.

                She was surprised by another sound of thunder when her mind brought her back to her childhood days. She was a 4 year-old little girl who loved to sketch and read fairy tales. Everything was so perfect and wonderful until this traumatic tragedy occurred right before her eyes. Her family was a victim of breaking and entering and the horrible looks of the criminals were her nightmares for many years. Her mother was brutally hit by one of the three men and her father was stabbed seven times in the back when he was trying to save his struggling wife.

What about her? After her parents convinced the robbers that she was away at her grandmother’s house, they stopped searching for her. Hiding herself in a room, she was too afraid to scream and all she could do was cover her face with a story book hoping that everything was just a fantasy. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. She could feel the wet pages of the book touching her chubby cheeks. She believed she had dropped an ocean of tears that night. Her heart was palpitating and she could not stop perspiring in the dark room. After few hours, the men left the home with valuables and she was there, dragging herself out of the room in trepidation. She was breathless and helpless. Two dead bodies were lying on the floor and her eyes could only spot one colour. Red.

Starting from that day, red was the colour she hated most as it took away her loves. How ironical. Her heart had never stopped bleeding from the moment she saw blood flowing like a river during the unforgiving incident. After the day, she lived with her unmarried aunt whom she called Aunt Rose in a new house. With the help of her three friends, she continued her life with patience and strength until she became an artist. Her three classmates however ended up in different fields. Sarah became a teacher, Siti was a businesswoman and Orkid worked at a hospital as a nurse.

                One fine morning, there was an exhibition organized specially to publicise the work of 5 selected artists and she was thankful to have been chosen as one of them. She put on her best dress for the event and made herself look stunning in her brand new heels. It was her long time dream to display her paintings in a grand ceremony and she couldn’t help but feel overexcited about it. However, her euphoria caused her to get involved in a road accident when she was accelerating impatiently. Her car hit the divider before it crashed into a trailer.

                Her life was indeed a tragic tale. She was wondering why she was always denied life bliss when she was a step closer to it. She was now on her deathbed suffering from critical brain damage with severe injuries at other parts of the body. Siti and Sarah were still on their way to the hospital when the rain slowly stopped. Her eyes blinked just to drop final tears before she uttered her last two words, “Thank You” to me, Orkid.

The world had just lost a great artist but we, her three cheerleaders, had never lost her as she would remain in our heart and mind forever.

Written by,

Muhamad Solahudin bin Ramli

May 16, 2014

The Challenging Road to Blessings

The Challenging Road to Blessings

          I am neither a frequent flyer nor an avid traveller to be honest. So, when I planned to take a trip out of Malaysia last March, I was visited by many kinds of feelings that made me rethink about my decision. At the end of the day, I still needed to thank God for giving me a chance to finalize a right decision as I actually proceeded with the plan to go to Saudi Arabia. The original plan was actually laid out by my third sister and later, my parents and my youngest sister came into the picture. As we were preparing ourselves for the pilgrimage, my paternal grandmother finally joined our family trip of six to the holy land, Mecca.

The writer believes that a beautiful camaraderie makes life a wonderful journey

          It’s indeed every Muslim’s dream to reach Medina and Mecca especially to get closer to God as well as to dear Prophet Muhammad S.A.W. But nothing is made easy. There will be great challenges that come and go throughout the process and everyone is given different ones to face and to bear. Since it is crucial and necessary for everyone to be mentally, physically and emotionally prepared for any future circumstances, I was following the crowd in this case. I tried my best to be a better servant of God by remembering Him more and being kinder towards others. I kept my patience and positivity close to me and believed that God only tested the ones whom He really loved.

          Six weeks before the day of departure, I was stunned by my unexpected sickness that challenged me in every way. I had never felt this painful and torturing before and I knew that my time and turn had come. The test was so great that I almost cancelled my Umrah trip and if I were to do so, all other five family members would have to follow suit. The sudden illness had really affected my routine and career as a teacher. The effects were gradually felt day by day till the point that I needed to stop staying at hostel since my condition got worse. I went across districts just to seek for treatment to at least reduce the pain with the hope that one day I would be fully recovered. I began to take medical leaves for the first times in my teaching career and it was frustrating to accept the fact that things didn’t get any better. I wasn't even able to drive and my energy was slowly washed away as days passed. I was a helpless young man who was stuck and speechless in a world no one would want to venture into.

          After a few weeks, I finally made the decision to still go on with the original plan in spite of having to struggle with my health condition. I had no choice but to fight it till we finished our 12-day trip to the holy land. With my family members by my side, I tried to be strong and left the rest to God. It was difficult at first but I believed that He would never test His servant something unbearable so I kept my faith stronger.

          The journey to the Kuala Terengganu airport was a tough one. I suddenly lost my confidence but I didn’t mention to anyone. The airport was indeed full with family members and relatives including ours who waved us goodbye and wished us a smooth sailing journey. I couldn’t respond much as my head was not in a good state. The headaches came back and I lost my focus, again. All I could do was smile and they seemed to understand my uncomfortable condition. I just couldn’t stop praying that everything would be fine and God would welcome us to be His guests.

At the airport with my grandmother

          The journey finally began when we boarded the plane to Low-Cost Carrier Terminal (LCCT) before taking the flight to Dubai on the next day. When we reached Dubai, we took a connecting flight to Jeddah and the real adventure was awaiting us there. The airport was crowded with people and the check-in procedures were slower than a moving tortoise. Everyone was forced to line up accordingly as they provided special lines for women and the elderly. A young man like me was instructed to stand in different lines for five tedious hours before I was allowed to pass through the first station. Some chose to be angry but I decided to be patient, miraculously. God sure had mercy on me that He gave me the strength I never knew I had. That unbelievable moment made me hope for the best and prepare for the worst even more.

          Before heading to Mecca, we spent three days in Medina as part of the overall plan. I was quite overwhelmed with the place as it was beautiful and peaceful in its own way. Masjid Nabawi or the Prophet’s Mosque was truly amazing in every aspect. People from many countries around the world filled in the area but you could still feel the calmness and tranquility deep within your soul. That made the place special and extraordinary.

After performing our first Umrah

          After three days, we continued our journey to Mecca to perform our long-awaited Umrah for approximately 8 days. We were lucky that the temperature wasn’t as high as it would be in May or June. But the place was a bit crowded with many devotees coming in big groups. Here, we had to be extra careful with our personal belongings as anything could happen when we were stuck in the ocean of people especially on our way back from Masjidil Haram to our hotel. Interestingly enough, it was quite a rare view for me to observe thousands of people of different races, skin colours, nationalities, ages and personalities to gather in one place to complete one similar mission. There were a million and one stories written on every strange face I came across. Some prayed in desperation while others stayed calm appreciating the golden opportunity only selected ones received.  

In front of Masjidil Haram

          Our days in Mecca were made more intriguing with the visits our group leaders planned beforehand. We had been given a priceless chance to witness many historical places especially the ones that told great stories about the lives of Prophet Muhammad, his family and his loyal companions. We were touring the city while sparing a moment to pay our respect to the great people who had gone before us. On our way back to the hotel, we passed by a few places where wars and fighting took place. It was like a dream for me to capture the moment with my own eyes as before this, I could only imagine the settings when I read the books and listened to the stories.

          After 12 days of travelling around the country, we were ready to go back to our dearly-missed motherland with the hope that we could slowly change into becoming a better person. The journey was fine until I slipped in the toilet in the Dubai airport that caused some uninvited cuts and bruises on the arms and backaches on the back. The challenge seemed to still continue and I was subconsciously blaming myself for committing too many mistakes previously to experience these ordeals now.

Aren't those camels adorable?

          Despite the injuries, I still enjoyed my flight with Emirates that provided the best service to their customers. The food was nice and the movies on the personal screen were not bad too. The long flight was indeed a treat and I hope I could board on it again in the future.

          After some ups and downs in the dark and bright sky, we eventually landed at Sultan Mahmud Airport, Kuala Terengganu on a Friday afternoon and there everyone was. The faces we saw and the hands we shook before our departure were all there again for our arrival. They heaved a sigh of relief as their loved ones had returned safe and sound.

Standing between my father on the right and my roommate on the left

          The memorable journey has left its significant footprint behind and it sure has taught me new lessons to live this life feeling grateful each day. It was a long read but there were still missing details I excluded on purpose just because some truths are better left untold.

"The writer learns that some lessons in this world need to be earned before they are to be learned."

Sounds of Love: A Poem by Muhamad Solahudin bin Ramli

SOUNDS OF LOVE

The writer believes that a beautiful camaraderie makes life a wonderful journey

Those mornings that woke me up

Those nights that kept me staying up

I had never given it up…

I remembered the worst lullabies I sang

That made me sleep before you rang

The time I would hear a bang

You would say something out of desperation

Explaining your bad action

I shook my head in exasperation

It was like a magic spell

You had grown up well

No more tales to tell

I sometimes missed the smell

When you were shouting like hell

But you rang me no bell

I longed for the lips

Landing on my cheeks

I longed for the body

Holding me close saying “Daddy”

I longed for those killing smiles

That drove me crazy

I longed for those healing smiles

That made me feel cozy

I needed neither Michaelmas Daisy on September

Nor a bouquet of red roses each year

I just wanted you to remember

Your words to your story-teller

Saying I would never leave you father

And I would love you ever after

Those words I would inspire

To live my life with no fear

Forgetting you, I never could

Even the moment I left for good

 "This poem was written in conjunction with Father's Day children celebrate each year."

The Chuckle

He made me chuckle for the first time after so many months. It was just a small laugh but it was indeed a miracle to my miserable life. I was having my dinner at the dining table when he suddenly came to me and asked, “Where’s your Maxis Breadbond? I need some internet right now. I’m so bored.” That was his magical line that put an impromptu smile on my face. “It wasn’t “Breadbond”. It’s Broadband and it’s inside my backpack.” I responded. That was Esmat, my only son.

The writer believes that every teacher is a parent to learners.

Three months ago in March, I was involved in a car accident and my wife had been seriously injured before the medical team announced her death right before midnight. My son and I suffered only minor injuries and we were discharged from the hospital after few days of treatment. The traumatic incident affected my routines as a father and an employee and my life had not been the same anymore. I kept on blaming myself for what happened and how I wished it was just a nightmare that would have ended when I woke up early in the morning. Unfortunately, it was not a dream but a painful reality for me to bear until my remaining days to live came to an end.

However, I just couldn’t be mourning forever for I still had my 11 year-old son who deserved my care and attention. If not because of two miscarriages my wife experienced earlier, I would have been blessed with three wonderful children by now. Still, I thanked god for not taking away everything from me as Esmat was still there to be with me through thick and thin. Being the only child, I didn’t spoil him by making everything easy on him. I always reminded him that he needed to earn every penny in order to receive the best satisfaction in life. Life was never easy and I myself once learned and lived the hard way.

Sometimes I had to admit that I spent less quality time with my family as I was busy with my career as an English teacher at a secondary school. Being a workaholic, I also contributed to a local newspaper by writing articles mainly about life, motivation and opinions on given topics. Not just that, I was an active examiner for public examinations for my extra income. I loved to give my all-out effort for anything I worked on without realizing that my family should also be my priority. Now, I could only sit on the couch thinking that I should have been a better husband to my patient wife who had hard times understanding a complicated man like me.

“Let bygone be bygone, daddy.” A soft voice was heard from behind. My son dropped his head on my lap when I was still relaxing on the long white couch. He was done surfing the internet and it was his sleeping time as the clock struck 11. Closing his two sleepy eyes, he muttered, “It’s a school holiday tomorrow so can we go to the lake? I miss the tortoises there and I know that they miss me too.” I was just silent. “Dad, you can look for your inspiration for your next articles too. Don’t you think that it’s mutually beneficial now?” I finally joked, “I guess it was my fault to name you Esmat. I never thought you’d get smarter than me when you’re just 11.” Starting to sound naughty, he replied, “Dad, I am a smart boy because I have a smart father like you.” He made me chuckle again and I planned to end his sweet talking by saying, “Okay, we’ll be at the lake tomorrow and now please stop talking and go to sleep.”

“Daddy…” The little voice was heard again and before I could even say anything, he slowly uttered the three beautiful words that made me almost burst into tears, “Happy father’s day.”

Life: A Short Story by Muhamad Solahudin bin Ramli

LIFE

                What is life? Some people say that it is about the ups and downs we go through each day. Some agree that it is about experiencing different stages in life from childhood till the day we grow old. Some even think that it is about making a lot of money as money is undeniably, for some, everything. Everyone is free to define the meaning of life and there is actually no right or wrong answer. This is because humans are born with different talents, skills, special abilities and ways of thinking. I believe that no one is better than others as God has created all of us equal. That was what my grandmother used to say when she was still breathing while enjoying her lovely life. She is now gone but I’ll always remember every single story she told me especially when she was young.

                It was early in the morning that I saw her sitting alone on a wooden bench outside her house. It was her usual place to recollect all her beautiful memories she once carved with her charming prince and their happy children. She was scanning all the colourful flowers she planted long ago. Daisies were her personal favourites and she always claimed that they were the most beautiful flowers in the world. When she was lost in her own thought, I approached her slowly, trying not to startle her. “Good morning, grandma. Have you had your breakfast?” I said. She was not responding and I thought I needed to speak a little louder just to get her out of her fantasy world for awhile. “Grandma?” She turned to me and gave me her inspiring smile. “Yes, my dear. I had some bread and butter just now. The black tea your mother prepared was as great as ever.” She then invited me to sit next to her and I would always love to accompany her while listening to her stories.

                “Do you know why I became a teacher?” She asked me while covering her body with a blanket the husband once bought her as a birthday present. The morning was cool and calm and I was in my green cardigan to make myself feel warmer. “I think it was because teaching is a noble profession and you want to impart some knowledge to all your students.” I answered her question. She was just smiling and slowly parting her lips to reply what I had just said. “Yes, my dear. You’re right. But it’s actually more than that. Teaching is a beautiful profession and you’ll never know how beautiful it can be until you become a teacher yourself.” Her words were always full with hidden meanings that never failed to make me curious of the figurative details. I requested for further explanation and she would be more than happy to share what she kept inside as for her, sharing was what made her feel better and free.

                “Being a teacher is being special. Regardless of what subject a teacher is teaching, there will be a beautiful human connection every teacher will develop. This connection allows love, affection, care, understanding and empathy to take place. Most importantly, a real teacher creates a wonderful camaraderie with the learners who learn more about life than about how to score well in exams.” I was stunned by her long words of wisdom but I could not deny that what she said was true. Teaching helped her deal with learners with different personalities, learning styles and intelligences. She believed that real teachers would not just help students get excellent results but they should be taught how to face the reality in this challenging world. Not to forget, there would be the ugly truths that would make us go back to the slogan, “Expect the Unexpected”.

                Spending time talking about her unforgettable days with her students brought her back to life again and she was as passionate and energetic as ever as she took a stroll down memory lane. She really enjoyed her teaching days as those days taught her how to be strong and patient, the two life elements everyone needed to survive the ordeals. She was proud that many of her students had succeeded in their lives as individuals who stood tall and appreciated life values. Some of them still even paid her a visit and their conversation would never end if not for some other business they had to attend to. I, for many times, had always noticed a different kind of happiness shown on her face whenever they met. Sometimes their reunions had caused some tears to drop, not just theirs but mine too.

                I remember on the very last day before my dear grandmother passed away. She said that everyone was a teacher and a learner at the same time. She advised me to never stop learning new things and spreading good knowledge to everyone I came across. Lessons are meant to be learnt, appreciated and passed to the next generation. Forgiving and giving are essential and we will someday realize that the two practice would miraculously make us feel better when we least expect it. She totally agreed with the classic line, “To err is human, to forgive is divine.”

                Her last few days were full with beautiful words as if she already knew that her life would be over soon, and I promised I would keep all her advice and reminders as they were the best wills I could ever receive from somebody that never had regrets in life and never held grudges against anybody. She was a wonderful woman with a sincere heart and I would surely tell my children the inspiring tales my grandmother told me once. I loved her so dearly but I needed to accept the fact that her time to say goodbye had come and I needed to move on and live my life.

A short story by,

Muhamad Solahudin bin Ramli

March 31, 2014