“Whoever realizes faith is from speculative theology, or through abstract proofs, or academic provisions, is an innovator.” This is important because this is not what iman is. Faith is a light, it’s a noor that allah places in the hearts of his servants. It’s a gift, and it’s an act of grace from Allah SWT. The Prophet, peace be upon him, said “None of you will enter paradise because of their actions.” Faith is actually in the heart, not on the face. It’s impossible to express, ineffable. Sometimes it’s made stronger by a vision during sleep. Other times by witnessing the state of a righteous man: you don’t know why, but when you’re in the presence of that person, your faith gets strengthened.”


source


I like this! Because I was just thinking about how speechless I can get sometimes trying to explain, and in the end, I guess you can't really explain. One can only show as much proof and as many signs -- the last leap is just pure faith, and you can't force that on anyone.

Why is it that local theatres are hardly, if ever, playing the movies worth watching? -.-

I want to watch this movie! About John Keats and his real love story with Fanny Brawne, starring Ben Whishaw. And I only very recently discovered this intriguing actor when I 'accidentally' stumbled onto a very twisted movie called Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. I can't decide whether the movie is brilliant or insane, but Whishaw without a doubt was mesmerizing in his performance, and I immediately looked him up. My favourite actors are more often than not obscure and fame-phobic (just the way I love them) and their works, in accordance or not, become inaccessible to me. This happened when I became quite enamoured by Cillian Murphy a couple of years ago. I hunted high and low for his movies, and only recently, by pure luck, found The Wind That Shakes The Barley, while on my Scotland trip with Eunice -- we were trying to decide what to watch at The Rowans, Isle of Lewis (BEST GUESTHOUSE EVER; I should totally rave about it in another blog post or stg); they had like a whole shelf of dvds we could take our pick from and I found the movie nestled somewhere there.

So anyway, I'm wondering whether I can find this if I walk into HMV. Also, I want to watch Brideshead Revisited! I keep hearing of Brideshead, but never got around to really finding out about it.

Here's the poem:

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death. 

I can't stop feeling nostalgic about fangirling, help. (you have been forewarned)

It's not the same as fangirling itself, which I still indulge in occasionally thanks to my random downloads of Arashi's shows -- but I'm talking more of the fangirling high I had over Yamapi and Maki back in 2008 (the only feeling that managed to somewhat parallel my early teen years of HP madness) and the unstoppable devouring of Jdramas. I keep thinking back fondly of those times and trolling old clips like I did for Nobuta just a few posts back. And feeling all wistful and old about it -- meh. No matter how I may still squeal over Arashi now, nothing will match the high I had back then. Perhaps this is akin to that feeling of falling in love psychologists say some people are addicted to.

I feel like fandom is mostly dead or stg (or am I not frequenting the right places?). I keep feeling or imagining the massive jumping-ship happening from Jpop to Kpop (Arashi being the sole exception), what with Big Bang and KARA slowly taking over young Japan's music scene or stg. Taking over with quality songs, I might add. (I hear some people complain that even Arashi has had a case of bleh songs this year?) Also -- why are there no more fun Jdramas??? really. Gone are the days of Hana Yori Dango, Nobuta and Hana Kimi.

see -- even helloyourself (my favourite LJ community to watch back when it was alive) turned its back on Yamapi for Kim Jaejoong:

And I think, that was the trouble I'd been having with writing any Yamapi/Maki fic lately ~ I've outgrown that first crush and there's been other things - other, shinier, Korean and Naked An An shaped things. I mean, I don't rule out a future collaboration between Maki and Yamapi (Young Japan! Everyone knows each other!) rekindling feelings (but please, no more Kurosagi. EVER. I'm still not over hating the movie.) but it's pretty much a given that I left Team Yamapi a long time ago. I wish him well, I hope his hair gets better, really, because he's attractive, but he's not that attractive to rescue that hairstyle. Not even Kimura Takuya could save that hair, and speaking of which - KT's been drinking of the hair fug well as of late too. Seriously, Japan. Stop with the manperming. It's nearly as bad as when the women do it.

helloyourself cracked me up all the time! I miss them. 

Here's my absolute favourite LJ post by helloyourself; PLEASE READ this hilarious thing: The heart has its reason, of which reason knows nothing. It's their take on why yamaki rocks and just a little bit of nuttiness everywhere.

Perhaps, I thought, there's a reason to why Yamapi's drama characters never get any action.  It's karma -- when you've got to beat them off with a stick in real life, the only way to make sure the universe is balanced is if your fictional counterparts never get the girl.

And I shall sign off my fangirling hour now -- Ja!

I started reading Arundhati Roy's award-winning The God of Small Things, and came across a passage that made my heart stop; I have no words for how dismal it made me feel.

He was exasperated because he didn't know what that look meant. He put it somewhere between indifference and despair. He didn't know that in some places, like the country Rahel came from, various kinds of despair competed for primacy. And that personal despair could never be desperate enough. That something happened when personal turmoil dropped by at the wayside shrine of the vast, violent, circling, driving, ridiculous, insane, unfeasible, public turmoil of a nation. That Big God howled like a hot wind, and demanded obeisance. Then Small God (cosy and contained, private and limited) came away cauterized, laughing numbly at his own temerity. Inured by the confirmation of his own inconsequence, he became resilient and truly indifferent. Nothing mattered much. Nothing much mattered. And the less it mattered, the less it mattered. It was never important enough. Because Worse Things had happened. In the country that she came from, poised forever between the terror of war and the horror of peace, Worse Things kept happening.

So Small God laughed a hollow laugh, and skipped away cheerfully. Like a rich boy in shorts. He whistled, kicked stones. The source of his brittle elation was the relative smallness of his misfortune. He climbed into people's eyes and became an exasperating expression.

I believe my God is of big things as well as of small things. And whatever perceived personal misfortunes I encounter in my brief life, is actually of benefit to me, though I may not know it, and wholly intended by God. Not as collateral damage, or at the expense of big things. We do have a right to mourn personal tragedies -- because none of us is inconsequential. But as long as we keep it all in perspective? Everything has its rightful place, eh?

Please remind me not to drink coffee at 10 pm if I intend to sleep before the morning comes. -.- Last night, went out for dinner with Marli and Hudy (which unfortunately or not, turned out into some super-long debate/discussion about religion and Sufism in particular; I think we must learn to be more light-hearted) and after that, we just wanted to sit and chat, and I succumbed to a mug of caramel macchiato (I have missed its awesomeness) while we parked ourselves at Starbucks. And later in bed, when it was almost 3 am and I could feel my brain screaming for rest, I still couldn't get any shuteye because the coffee was working its mojo on me. And then the headache started. Horrible, please. And in the morning, I had to message Mendaki to say that I wasn't coming to help today because I had barely had any sleep. D: I hope they don't learn to hate me, really, because of the way I keep bailing out.

But nonetheless, today, I have decided to be productive and started to clear my hard disk space (which has only 800+MB of free space left!) and of course came across some nice old things, like this write-up of myself I had to give to Albert Teo at the beginning of Human Relations class; here's a bit of it:

One of my personal goals in life is never to bow down to difficulty; I have discovered that nothing makes me more upset than acceding defeat. Every time I find something about work or school that intimidates me, I recall the times when I was younger and I hated roller coaster rides; we’d go to a theme park and I’d bail out on a few rides (all the girls did), but then I’d realize how disappointed I became when we left the park. I’d decided then that the regret in having not braved through the ordeal was far worse than the ordeal itself. So from then on, I’d make myself take all the scary rides; the more scared I was, the more I made sure I’d take it. I suppose, in essence, it’s true what they say: there’s nothing to fear but fear itself. And roller coasters have now become more a joy than a fear; and I want to believe that all the obstacles I encounter will turn out similarly.

There really is nothing more agonizing to me than hearing me tell myself, you are a coward. Which is why, I really do think I belong in Gryffindor, haha! You know those silly personality quizzes that try to sort you into one of the Hogwarts houses? I once got Gryffindor and then I once got Ravenclaw, but I am certain Gryffindor would be where my heart lies, eheh.

hello, I miss days of this:

* When Akira was accosted by the Truth Man.


* How do you get power!


And ohmygod, I probably might go mad deciding on a favourite scene from this show, but this one just might be it. <3

* AKIRA SHOCK! I love the three of them to pieces.


And that bit of Shuji narrating about the bittersweet nature of happy moments, saying "I don't want to get closer now." -- gorgeous. Really happy moments only make partings that much more painful, eh. But like they say and Shuji will later learn, it's better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.

“If you feel love in your home, you don’t look for it anywhere else.”


This is such an amazing article on the home and raising the family in Islam; and point number two about making Rasulullah s.a.w. as a breathing, living entity in the lives of children -- hit jackpot with me. Reminds me of stories of the children of Dandara who flat out refuse any offerings of money or sweets whenever they assist in something, for fear that they contaminate their intention to solely please Nabi. It took me a long time to get it; to understand what compelled them so. It's like, even today, when I tutor Humairah or Aishah and then I'm offered some money as form of thanks, damn, I still want it okay. I can't push the money away easily like those amazing kids can. There's probably something about the early nurturing years that is absolutely receptive to the makings of great character.


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2010 is slowly rolling to a close, and I feel like my blogging gears are also slowing down in tandem. This year has been a great marker for growth, and... it feels like I'm reaching the edge of something. Every chance I get, I ask for more strength, more courage and guidance; especially guidance cause without it it's like groping blind in this world.

I just finished rewatching the movie adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (just felt like it; or perhaps unconsciously bidden by recent events haha) and I like this scene. I have come across quite a number of people who are very much averse to Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennett (is it because she's a bit too... aggressive as Elizabeth? I don't know.), and this includes my sister somewhat, but as I've ascertained just now, I don't mind her portrayal at all. In fact, I quite like it. I quite like the movie overall -- the way, it's been directed and kind of summarises the story in a fast-paced manner. Austen novels, if I may be frank, tend to be unbearably draggy (I tried to keep reading Emma and didn't get past the halfway mark, and I skipped chunks of Sense and Sensibility; Pride and Prejudice remains the only Austen novel I have successfully read cover to cover) and this adaptation makes the story more palatable to the general audience, I feel.

Anyway, this scene is full of tension and drama and wonderfully-charged language. And oh, poor Mr Darcy's heart shattered to smithereens. I think Darcy just had horrid timing about confessing his feelings; she was very angry at this point. And of course his insulting her before saying he loved her did not help, haha. How can the man be so stupid.

And then I kept trying to figure out who had the pride and who had the prejudice -- Mr Darcy too proud and Elizabeth too prejudiced? Then again, weren't both of them guilty of both? Because doesn't pride engender prejudice? Or is it vice versa.

We are all fools in love. I think that can be a very comforting platitude.

And here's the BBC version of the same scene for good measure.

I cannot believe what I accidentally gave Eunice, on behalf of all birds, for her birthday. (I really truly am sorry. All I wanted to give you was a relatively decent romance novel.)

XD JOKE lah!!! I really thought public bookstores were free of the vices of the world of fanfiction, but apparently I thought wrong. This incident is both horrifying and hilarious.

I miss Supernatural; this has been the longest we've gone without the next season. Usually, it's like a 10-month wait. But now, it's more than a year and we still don't have Season 5, and I'm sure the US is already running Season 6. -.- My brother had the great idea of ordering it online (I'm not sure where from) and it has been ages. He claims it's already in the country, but is being held up for censorship reasons. whaaaaaat. I hope it comes soon. Before 2011 rolls around at least.

Found this from deviantart; too cute: what dean loves...

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Also, I had a different photo planned for the quote on the header of my blog; but the photo size created problems with regard to layout, so I had to scrap this:

Editing can seriously do wonders, and turn amateurs into pros. This was an unplanned shot taken at Dal Lake, Kashmir, 2007, while I was riding the shikara (i.e. sampan). I remember in RG, just before the time digicams entered the mainstream, and our instructor Barnabas Hong (oh dear, I'm not sure I'm remembering his name right) talked about how he spent hours with like ten rolls of film, trying to photograph a single rainbow. Nowadays, you can have a random shot like this, and use a free online editing application, and voila! All pretty. It really cheapens the whole skill sometimes, I feel. The painstaking effort of waiting for the perfect sunrise and just the right mix of colours in the sky -- who appreciates that anymore? That's technology for you, I guess: making things far too convenient. To our detriment in some way, I'm sure. We just don't exactly know how yet.