Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Random

In the name of Allah, The Most Gracious and The Most Merciful

3rd May 2011.

I was organizing my desktop just now, and deleting some unimportant stuffs in the laptop when I found this. I have no idea on when did I write this, but I feel like sharing it here. My own life story, so that whenever I read this again, it will remind me on how much my father means to me. Don't read if you don't feel like reading, after all..it's all about me and myself.

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I cried when I first admitted that I grew up in a broken family. So, if anyone ever happens to read this, this is a part of my life story.

What best, is what Allah has chosen for us. Allah let me be the way I am right now, because that’s the best for me. Sometimes, I was too blind to see the reasons and wisdoms of everything that has happened around me. I was too absorbed with the worldly materials that I forgot all of those will not help me in facing the life hereafter.

Allah even reminds us in Al-Quran, that family and wealth can also be the enemies to us, because there were times when we love those things more than we love Allah and Islam. Nauzubillah. Sometimes, we don’t even realise that. We overlooked those tiny things. But Allah takes account of everything. Allah explains everything in Al-Zalzalah, clearly. Allah knows best what we know not. Allah knows us better than ourselves, for Allah is our creator, and Allah is even nearer to us than our own jugular vein!

As for me, I have no right to ponder upon my own life. I have not the slightest right to question everything that has been happening to me. I am not even in the right position to compare myself with everyone else around me. For I am who I am, I am whom Allah has made me into. My life is my journey. Allah has His reasons for making things this way, not that way. It’s just that we sometimes are too lazy to look deeper.

I’ve read somewhere, that there is no coincidence in life, because everything happens for a reason. Coincidences are just reasons made by human beings to reject the fact that things happen because of fate, because Allah made it that way. And there are no coincidences that I happened to be the way I am right now. It is absolutely because Allah wants me to be this way.

I cried today. I haven’t called home for nearly a month. I called last Sunday, and I heard my father’s voice. It was just; I didn’t have the guts to talk to him. I listened to him saying hello over and over. Listening to the creaky voice of his, I was touched. Even though he didn’t hear anything from the other side of the phone, he refused to just ignore the call. He was afraid that I might be on the other side struggling to make the line clearer. He waited patiently, hoping to hear my voice.

My father is not a man of words. Well, whose father is anyway? Fathers always show their love through their action. Not even once I’ve heard him saying that he loves and misses me. Never. But, I can feel his love through his action. You tell me, which children will not feel touched and sad when your own father has to go borrowing some money because you wanted to buy a laptop?

My father is a man of pride. He studied only until standard two. But he taught his children never to rely upon others. He taught us to be independent. He taught us never to expect anything in return when you offer a help. A good father was thought to always be there for their children. Despite the fact, I’ll be more than happy to say that my father was never there for me.

When my mother passed away, it was my aunties and cousins that consoled me, not my father. When I had to choose between two vital choices of life, my father didn’t even offer an opinion, I was left alone to make the choices myself. When I got the first place in the mid-term exam, everyone’s parents came to see their children receiving presents from the Sultan of Kedah, but not my father. When I succeed with 10 A’s in SPM, I celebrated it with my friends, because my father went working. When I needed to finish all the preparations for furthering studies overseas, I did it myself, not even once my father was there with me to help scanning through all the forms.

He was never there for me. He’s not that typical type of father, which actually made me into an untypical type of daughter. To be honest, sometimes I did question his way of growing us up. Nevertheless, if he was just like everyone else’s father, I will grow up being just like everyone else.

Because of him, I became sensitive. Because of him, I became emotional. Because of him, I only knew to express my anger and sorrow through tears. Because of him, I looked at the world in a negative point of view. Because of him, I learnt not to expect more from other people. Because of him, I am this current Narshiela Saad.

My father might not be there for me physically, but in his prayers I know I am absolutely included. I became sensitive, emotional and I cried even in the stupid and silly situations. Because of that, I used not to rely on others. I solved my own problems. I understand one’s hardship more than most people. I developed empathy in myself. I learnt to help people with everything I might. I became sensitive regarding family issues, which made me develop a level of self-respect towards people’s mothers and fathers. I am not used to sharing problems with friends or people around me. I learnt to be dependent only to Allah, the One and Only who can help me through all the hardships and challenges.

I even looked at the world in a negative point of view. I became cautious and even prejudice sometimes. I am not used to believing people easily. Because of that, I learnt to work hard for my own personal gain. I believe in the concept of reap and sow. I believe in the concept of good and bad. I believe in the concept of heaven and hell. I learnt to prioritize my needs over my own interests.

To quote one of Hlovate’s character’s saying in one of her novel, “I am not those kind of typical girls, who love make-ups, self-beauty, flowers, pinks and shopping.”

I am one weak and ordinary girl on the outside. Inside, I am more that what meets the eye. My father was never there for me, because he puts the whole trust in his daughter. He knew I will survive wherever I was thrown to. He trusted me, and I honoured that. He let me choose my own path of life. He taught me to use my own strength to stand up whenever I fell down. He taught me to blame no one but myself for my own misdeed. He taught me to appreciate every opportunities that came around. He was, is and forever will be the greatest father for he taught me things that only by exploring and enjoying life, I could treasure them.

He taught me to appreciate. He taught me to rely upon no one but Allah. He taught me the most precious lesson. He taught me to believe that Allah makes things happen for a reason. He taught me not to regret, not to look back, not to question and accept everything the way there are. He is my father, one and only. Thank you Allah, for letting me be his daughter.

5 comments:

Subaili Sekri said...

hmmmm

Nisa' said...

This is beautifully written!

sHieLa said...

subaili: hmmm?? O.o

nisa': ahh, thank you for spending time to read it ^^

SUHAIMI RAMLI said...

Tahniah kerana anda mmg layak diucap tahniah ats kekuatan anda menghadapi segala ujian hidup =D

sHieLa said...

suhaimi: im not that strong though ^^ anyway, jzkk