Archive for the My daily dose of blogging Category

A runner notes

Posted in My daily dose of blogging on February 15, 2010 by chicken little

I am always a runner..

That’s my thought when I witness the Rotterdam Marathon of 42 kilometers.

This year’s participants is 13.000 people, most are Dutch.
It last like 6 hours and I can see that these people are running not only for the money.

Some of the runners are physically handicapped, some are very old, some are women and some are very, very late. But they did not stop and decides to take Metro subways or tram.
They just want to finish it.
I somehow understand it. They have their own mission.

I am not good in sport, no matter how hard I try.
For example, my serves can never pass the net in volley ball.
I could stand playing badminton less than ten minutes and tennis even less than that.
I could not swim and I get the worst score in my athletic class.

My sport teachers give up and made me do some clipping and sport reports instead.
But I am always a runner. I like running and I respect people who keep running even they know they are outperformed.
My running is not the fastest, nor the longest.
But at least I could force my legs to move.

I guest this is why I still running until now. I have been a natural runner since childhood.
It bring back memories, most are bitter and childhood fear. But beneath it I could always leave those memories behind, until I could see nothing but lights and hear nothing but my heartbeat.
After that, I feel like reborn.

I don’t remember my first run, but my mother told me that the first time I could walk, I don’t walk. I just run. At that time, my mother used to tell me not to run because it is dangerous, but mostly I don’t listen to her and I end up bump into anything.

I remember running in my junior high school.
Not in the running track, but along the school hall to buy the exam papers for my class (in that school, to follow exam, you should buy exam papers).
I was the smallest, and once the dumbest.
My classmates are a bunch of rich and the richest who value other by their cars, branded stuff and possessions. So, in order to fit in, I just have to do as they told me. I have to buy the exam papers for the class while others are busy reading the last minutes exam material.
Did I feel sorry for myself?
I run very fast so they have no time to read anything anymore. Later I think, perhaps I did run to rebel from their tyrant.

I was always running when I come home from school. My school is far from my house and I have to walk to get there. Along the streets, I see many things. Animals and people, both are mostly unfortunate. I think of them and question myself. Are they wasted?
Are these people wasted? Are they live they 50 years of life, or more, to become poor?
Allah is not sleeping, said my mother every time I asked her this.
This answer is indeed able to comfort me.

Lately, when I run, I remember my father.
Before I go to Netherlands, I always run with my father during weekend. Not far, just in my residential area, around Lebak Bulus stadion.
My father..
I guess in my eyes, I will always see him as a runner himself. Not as a champion or anything, but in a kind of sad ways, more like a defeated hero.
My father, he tries very hard in his life, but this world has been cruel to him. That is just the perfect words to describe him. I guess, this is why sometimes I picture him as a beaten soul. To me, he is like a stubborn looser, in a kind of heartbreaking way.

Only when we run together, I sometimes could catch that flame in his eyes, his faded dreams, hidden somewhere in his fragile pride. He will tell me about his magna cumlaude, his Nestle and Stanpac interview. He will tell me about his jobs and presentations. The one he could achieve long time ago before his series of dark ages.
In his life, he has nothing to be proud of, but only me and my sister.
He told me this again and again. Again and again.

My thought aren’t renewed, I will always see him as the little fragile thing of mine.
But my running contemplation sort of changed me, for now as I grow wiser, I slowly accept him wholly. As the matters I didn’t knew before, now as clear as crystal.

People always run in their life.
What matter is whether they are running from something, or running to achieve something?
This philosophical side of me sometimes dramatizes my running process, as If I see drama through my eyes while running. I see couples in love, I see hatred and i witness sadness. I see people younger then me, older than me.
I watch the leaves are falling from the trees, i see clouds in blue sky. I see life.

I then begin to questioning the end.
Do I run to Allah?
Do I selfishly running from Allah?

You can say that I am such a melancholic person, but I am the kind of person who always feels lonely. I am not spoiled that I feel miserable with this feeling. In contrary, I do ‘use’ this loneliness to get me out of any kind of dependence, humanly bond, or possession over something or someone.
It is not eternal, anyway.
Nothing is matter but Allah.

By running I contemplate this feeling, my fear, and my hopes.
By running I constantly remind myself, that I am alone.
When my runnings are faster and faster until I hear nothing but my heartbeat, I am becoming a loner in the crowd. Like it’s just me and Allah.
Then I pray to Allah when I run.


will i feel sufficient when i am loved?

Posted in My daily dose of blogging on January 29, 2010 by chicken little

i just want to be loved.

and sometimes i feel all alone.

i am so alone

Here i’m staying with my friends, most of them already found their loved one, and some of them are confident enough to say that they’ve met their destiny. While me.. i got many more YM and shout in my chat box, i have more friends than anyone here, but no one from them were actually my lover.

I am thinking lately, whether it is better to get attention from one close person, such as boyfriend or husband, or being this busybody and people need me; but with no one that will love me as a woman?

Love is a funny thing indeed. Why am i often have to suffer in order to become worthy of the one to love yet i couldn’t trust it when it comes.

I don’t ask for an uberman, someone who’s perfect. I just want someone who are similar to me.  Yet it seems that i am not worthy enough to be loved.

Well probably i’m feeling like this because i’m now turning 25 years old and i’ve seen my friends married one by one.

However, could i ever feel satisfied when it comes, love?

I am so similar with Bidam, one the character in Queen seon deok.


He’s unwanted from the beginning, feared by his teacher for his swordfighting ability, nobody cared for him yet he’s raised just to fulfill other’s expectation. He fall in love with Princess Doekman, and stays beside her until she become Seondeok the Empress of Shilla. He’s always in between Seondeok and General Kim Yushin and he always feels Seondeok trust Yushin more than him.
Bidam always feels lonely and insecure. Even when Seondeok finally fall in love with him and engaged to him. Cheated by his mother (Mishil) people, Bidam thought the Queen Seondeok try to kill him. So he lead the rebellion against the Queen with a broken heart. He find out that the plot is not Queen’s and that Queen Seondeok always love and trust him till the end. However it is too late.

He died in front of Queen Seondeok and she dies three months after.
Bidam is just like me, alone and insecure.
To achieve Korean dream (to rule), Doekman need all the love and trust from everyone; in contrary, to be loved by one Doekman, Bidam willing to rule Korea.
How weak is human heart..just like Nasr bin Hajjaj or Majnun..Bidam is one that die because he’s consumed by love. I sometimes feels that too. I am so want to give my everything, just to be loved.  If to be loved means that i have to be wanted, i want to be wanted!

However, i found my choleric side forbid myself from this tendency.  I found this concept when i am in my junior highschool.

See, everyone knows that love consumes people. And even the young me knows it.

Being bullied in junior high, i have a bunch of spoiled brat classmates who finds it is amusing to hurt others. At home, my mom and dad were quarrellings day by day over my dad’s bankruptcy.  They even goes to psychiatrist. My sister were the sweet child, unlike me. And i find it difficult to adjust in everywhere. So i goes alone and insecure. I feel mostly insecure and i couldn’t trust anyone anymore. What is it to be loved when every time there’s a possibility for that love to be vanished.

A mother could have died, a sibling could have died or hate each other. Lovers could drained out of love and human’s heart is unpredictable and love could have present in many forms.  So i decided that i should suffice myself from the need of love except from Allah.

How dangerous it would be if we rely on human’s heart..? i mean, seriously, i’m the type of person who demand perfection in loving and being loved. On top of that, i am all sided with the nature of human’s love, it could trifle easily.

During that time, i spend my times in reading people’s biographies, Lincoln, Gandhi, Einstein, Hatta and many others. I realized that these people perhaps have been loved, or not. But who cares. People know them.

So i think, lets dream about something bigger, bigger than love or any domestic feeling it could absorb all my energy. Bigger than me, so my entire life is dedicated to fulfill it. So i made my own dream.

I am dreaming that one day Islam will truly being practiced by humankind, bringing peaceful and order in this world. Be the leading civilization, once more. Reviving the glory of our past Caliphate. No war, no poverty, other religion are protected by the muslim ruler and every living thing on earth will feel grateful that Islam is there to protect them.

I could die in the process, i could be written in the history or not, i could feel down sometimes but i will soon regain my spirit.

That is bigger than love or to be loved.

If i couldn’t be remembered by one person, why not be remembered by thousand, or million people. If i am not worthy enough to be loved as a woman, then i could be loved as a guardian for people, as their defender.

Sound’s a bit pathetic.

Yeah people might’ve said, ” Nix when you find that special love, you will soon forget those dreams and begin to feel secured..”

I might as well ended up as a mid aged housewife, concerning about tonight’s dinner while ironing my children clothes. Hahahaha.

I am not sure about that, perhaps if i feel happy when it comes, i will not be bothered much. But as for now, i know.

Even if that love comes, i could never feel satisfied. My skeptical thoughts are always the winner, and i will begin to questioning?

“when will his love fade..?”

“when is the time he decided to leave..?”

“what should i prepare so i will not feel much pain when he hurt me..?”

things like that constantly echoing my mind and i nurture this insecure even more. I don’t know if any of the people i know will feel the same.

For now on, i’ll just stick to my dream. It is safer, and a bigger boat for my fragile heart. If somebody find me and love me, i could probably rest a while,but deep down inside i know that i’m not just longing to be remembered. I need to be remembered by many people so that i will feel secure when one man walks out my life and decide to forget about me.

I even pity myself reading this.