Writing

Mom: Do you know Cik Na (our relative) wrote books? Nenek told me she gave about bla bla to her, saying its from her book selling.
Me: Oh really. Can you ask her what book? I feel like buying one.

I wish I was, am one or will be a writer. So that I can say to her, pointing to the bookshelves, 'Mom, see! My books there!'. And I'm going to spend the money for her, buying whatever she wish for. Makes her happy.

You don't know how much my heart cries outrageously every time she mentioned any of our relatives, friends or anybody wrote good books.

Mom, it's one of my dream. And still remain as a dream. I want to write about Andalus.  

The bitter fact is. I'm NOT a writer.

I'm just... a me. With too many dreams. A someone who always and always forget to prioritized which one should be on the top, and which is the least.

But I keep this dream of mine in mind, heart, and here. I'll turn it into reality. I am going to find that lost part of jigsaw puzzle, one day. It's just... not yet. In the meantime.

You can't give, if you yourself don't have any provision.


Just, not yet.

الْعِلْمُ صَيْدٌ وَالْكِتَابَةُ قَيْدُهُ

قَيِّدْ صُيُوْدَكَ بِالْحِبَالِ الْوَاثِقَهْ

فَمِنَ الْحَمَاقَةِ أَنْ تَصِيْدَ غَزَالَةً وَتَتْرُكَهَا بَيْنَ الْخَلاَئِقِ طَالِقَهْ

Ilmu adalah buruan dan tulisan adalah ikatannya.
Ikatlah buruanmu dengan tali yang kuat.
Termasuk kebodohan kalau engkau memburu kijang, setelah itu kamu tinggalkan terlepas begitu saja.

~Imam ash-Shafie~

Someday, one day. Biiznillah. Just pray.