SubhanAllah. I am such a terrible blogger. No — I am such a terribly inconsistent blogger. As always, Facebook becomes my online home, I suppose because “every”body is there, and responses/feedback/rewards are quick and instant. Facebooking vs. blogging, to me, is akin to texting/instant-messaging vs. letter-writing. I think.
Anyway, I am back in the UK, for two years this time inshaAllah. Shall not mention anything academic-related because they are not worth talking about, srsly.
Mama the blogger!
I wanted to share my mother’s blog, actually. Although she blogs in Malay (BM) at the moment, because the stories are about her hajj experience. Reading her entries so far induced several thoughts in my head, among others:
How blogging, or really the act of sharing pieces of one’s life online, either through videos or photos or writing, etc. can become a powerful tool. What you put out there can make a difference, you know. I think blogging itself may be on the decline, only because there are so many other new forms of expression and socialising now, but I am quite happy to see that people are finding the courage to have their say.
My mum is actually a good writer! She has always been, I think, because I distinctly remember how she told me she got excellent marks in school karangan (essay-writing) back in the day. I was struggling doing my karangan homework one day (this was like… a decade ago) and she told me how she always put a twist into her stories. For instance, the question topic would be to write about a perkelahan (family outing) at some waterfall, and she’d concoct something entirely unexpected like how a kid ended up drowning that day and everybody came home in a somber mood. ‘Course, at that time I’d go “… ” and continue to write a typical “went there, saw nature, swam, picnic, had fun, went home” story, but yeah, her entries definitely show a skill of story-telling. (Not many people can make readers cry, yo! C-R-Y!)
How important family members, relatives and friends are. Especially in panicky, crucial, momentous times like in my mum’s case (ie. last-minute hajj invitation). I wrote on FB recently how once upon a time, I envisioned living as a hermit, because I never understood the need for social interaction or indeed, having people in your life. I was always the child who “kept gold in her mouth” and didn’t understand why the adults would ask me questions about school or my favourite subject. I was always the teen who complained about having to visit relatives at their home, or make small talk with the aunties, or talk to the guests when they sat in the living room. But, of course, sense and maturity finally landed in my brain at some point, and now I understand. I understand how people who care about each other make it a point to meet and communicate and ask if everything is going alright. I understand how Allah’s help can be channeled through His servants, right when we need it. I understand how social interaction can make you feel better, feel alive, feel human. And I understand how people are interested in what you have to say, how you think, and in finding out what kind of person you are. Alhamdulillah, I understand.
Related to point #1, discovering this YouTube channel also reminded me of how small efforts can also be significant. A video such as the one below would help so many kids and teens because they too can relate:
(And the fact that they are two very funny hijabi Bengali sisters just make them all the more likeable mashaAllah! )