What if

Have you ever wonder what it would be like if you did it differently? Took the road not taken. What if I drank Ribena instead of Sunkist? What if I asked her out? What if I dropped out of college? Azam did wonder.
Facing the thickly covered green hills, Azam sits motionless on a rock. The cold misty air was just about to rise from the belly of the hills. A ray of light peaks through one of the tallest building in the world. With his MP3 player playing “What If” by Creed, he stared at the sky. He saw an eagle at the corner of his eyes. So high and so free, it soars proudly amongst the heavens.
“How I wish I could be like that eagle,” thought Azam.
Being the youngest in your family does have its joy but being the only son is sometimes a burden. Especially if you live in a neighbourhood where compare and contrast is active at work. And in Azam’s case, he was up against eight contenders who are the same age as he is. So when it was time for the moment of truth, be it UPSR, PMR or SPM, Azam was always put under the microscope.

“How many A’s did Azam scored?” asked the neighbours.
“Five,” answered Azam’s mother proudly.
“Congratulations!” replied the neighbours with an odd smile.
As they continue talking in front of the house, Azam was ease dropping, trying to hear what were they gossiping about. He knows that it’s that time of the year where he and his peers will be put through judgement day. Last time around in UPSR and PMR, Azam scored four straight A’s and eight straight A’s respectively. His parents were so proud of him they told everyone in the neighbourhood. Azam was the talk of the neighbourhood. Then comes SPM where it all changed for Azam. There were a lot of people curious about Azam’s results but not for the right reasons.

“Well?” asked Azam’s parents, “Did you get straight A’s?” they added with great anticipation.
“I, I got five,” answered Azam nervously.
“What!” replied his parents.
His father was in disbelief while his mother could not hide her disappointment and broke into tears after hearing the news. And so starts the bombardment of criticism.
“What happened?” asked Azam’s father.
“What are we going to say to the neighbours?” added Azam’s mother.
“Atiqah must have better results than you and maybe even that naughty son of Ramlah have scored more A’s than you,” said Azam’s father furiously.
One after another, it kept on coming from the mouths of the upset and disappointed. For Azam, it was like watching an endless relay between his father and mother who took turn to give Azam a piece of their minds. And being the only son, Azam could not help but to feel the hopes and dreams of his parents bestowed upon him shattered into tiny little pieces.

“Hey, little guy, what are you doing here all alone? Aren’t you suppose to be with your mom?” asked Azam to a little white kitten with blue eyes.
The kitten keeps on meowing as it gingerly makes its way up the big rock.
“You must be starving,” said Azam as he gives the kitten some tuna from his sandwich that he brought along that beautiful morning.
“Look at you, so tiny yet so brave,” said Azam while patting the kitten, “I wish I could be as brave as you,” added Azam.

“So what are you going to do now?” asked his parents.
“Well, go to college I guess,” replied Azam who knows that it is the only answer that his parents want to hear.
“Good, because I’m not going to sit by and watch my son, my one and only son, be the first in our family to not make it into college,” said Azam’s father, your cousins have made it and why can’t you?” he added.
May of 2001 saw Azam enrolled into UPSI in pursue of a degree in Statistics. Math seems to be Azam’s strong point since he was a little boy thanks to his mother’s efforts of tirelessly sending him to numerous Math tutors and tuition centres.

“Now you study hard, dear,” said Azam’s mother, “make us proud,” she added with a smile.
They left Azam in his hostel room that day with a hope. A hope that will soon fade. As they take their step farther away from Azam, it seems like they are stepping away from their dreams. From that moment on, Azam’s fate is in his hands. Little that he knew, it was just the beginning.

“Hi, is this seat taken?” asked a girl.
“Aaa – no,” replied Azam.
“Phew! I thought I would never make it in time for class,” said the girl, “I’m Sue,” she added.
“Azam,” he replied with an awkward smile.
“First class huh?”
Azam kept quiet and kept on smiling.
“Math or Stats?”
Azam stared at Sue with an odd look.
“Mathematics or Statistics?” explained Sue.
“Oh, Statistics.”
“So I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other for the next three years or so. Since there’s not much difference between Math and Stats, I’ll be looking forward to our future classes.”
The lecturer came in to start the class.
“Phew! Saved by the lecturer,” sighed Azam.
Azam was relieved to avoid that awkward moment in class. He was never really comfortable when confronted with the opposite sex. Even in family gatherings, Azam would keep quiet and try to avoid conversations especially with his female cousins. Growing up through primary and secondary boys school did not help much either. The testosterone overdose has left Azam isolated. He never really knew what it was like to have a girlfriend and never really realize the significance of the existence of the other gender.
Unfortunately for him, Azam had to share rooms with the Reserve Officer Training Unit or better known as ROTU which is a military training given to students who are interested in the army. Even though Azam did not join the ROTU, he had to go with the flow. All of his course mates were put in the same hostel as he is. If there is anyone who could not bare the treatment and want to transfer to another hostel, they would have to get by the principal who is a Commandant of the Royal Army. Only after a good and lengthy talking to from him will the student be allowed to transfer to a new hostel. And there has been very few occasions where a student survives the brain wash session with the principal.

“All of you juniors have to take signatures of all of the seniors here in this hostel by the end of the week,” ordered the president of the hostel, “Got that?”
“Sir, yes Sir!” shouted the juniors.
“Cause if anyone of you failed to do so, you would have to answer to me.”
Meeting the seniors is one thing but getting their signatures is a whole new different ball game. On the top floor alone which houses the “super-duper” seniors, there are almost 30 seniors living up there. There are four floors and the juniors occupy the first two floors. Getting the signatures is not a simple feat especially for the timid Azam.
“Assalamualaikum,” greeted Azam.
“Waalaikumusalam, aha – juniors, come in,” answered the senior.
“I’ve come to take your signature.”
“Is that how you suppose to talk to your seniors? Don’t you have any manners?”
“Oh – sorry, I’m Azam, and you are?” asked Azam rather hesitantly.
“You don’t know my name? I’m famous around here. Everyone knows me and you should too.”
Azam stood silent.
“You go under the bed and start copying every word I say!” ordered the senior.
Azam was startled by the sudden change of voice and dropped his notebook. Immediately, he gathered his notebook and crawl straight under the bed with his head just creeping out the foot of the bed. While sitting on the bed, the senior started boasting all about himself, his achievements, his goals in life and poor Azam wrote down more than five pages of bio data. And after going through all that numbing experience, the senior made Azam wash his clothes. Basically, that was the nightmare that the juniors had to go through during their first few weeks or initiation period in hostel.

“Hey, wake up!” said Sue while poking Azam with a pen.
Azam straighten his posture and stared straight ahead.
“Stay focus! This topic is quite difficult,” Sue added, what were you up to last night?”
“I was up doing my laundry,” Azam answered.
“I thought you were busy studying for the quiz.”
“Quiz? What quiz?”
“The Algebra quiz. It’s tomorrow. Remember?”
“Oh shoot! It completely slipped my mind.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you study. Why don’t we do it over lunch?”
“Em, that’s okay, I’ll manage. Thanks anyway though.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ya, don’t worry about me.”

A sound of tree branches breaking broke the silence of the morning. Azam was rattled by the sudden loud sound coming from behind him. He instantly stood up and turned. He was shocked to see a group of monkeys gathering up on the trees nearby.
“It must have been my tuna sandwich.”
The monkeys were getting closer and closer, attracted by the tasty smell of food.
“I better make a run for it.”
Azam sprints as fast as he could leaving his tuna sandwich behind.
“Phew! That was close.”
As Azam was catching his breath, a jogger passed by.
“Good morning, heavy workout huh?” the jogger asked.
“I was running from a group of monkeys back there,” said Azam with a deep breath, “you better watch out for them.”
“Nah, they are harmless,” replied the jogger, “besides, how long will you have to keep on running? Sometimes it is good to stand up and face your fears.”
Azam thought to himself as he watched the jogger runs off.

“Hey Zam, what’s your last sem’s pointer?” asked Sue.
“Awful,” said Azam disappointingly, “I failed Algebra.”
“How could that be?” said Sue in amazement, “I thought you’ve got it covered?”
“Well – I guess I was wrong.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tutor you and make sure you ace the repeat paper,” said Sue enthusiastically.
“Will you? Thanks Sue, I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Although things are looking up between Azam and Sue, we can’t say the same for his finances. Azam was cut off from his PTPTN loan after scoring below 2.0 for his first semester. He had to find a way to get some money. He could not go to his parents knowing that they would kill him. So, he started to look for a job. After some serious job hunting and a few rejections later, he got a job in a cyber café near his hostel. But it did not last long. His boss was not satisfied with his performance and Azam got the boot after three months working in the cyber café.
Azam was at an all time low. He knew he could not survive without a job. As days go by, Azam contemplates his next move.

“Hey bro, I’ve got something to share with you, said Azam’s roommate.
“I don’t want to hear about your MLM business,” said Azam grumpily.
“But this is not just your average MLM business,” assured his roommate, “It’s way better.”
“Ah, that’s what they all say, there’s no difference.”
“Just give me five minutes and I’ll guarantee you will be amazed how successful their business plan is.”
“Okay – five minutes, that’s all I’m giving you.”
As Azam’s roommate explained the details of the MLM business, Azam started to get intrigued by the testimonials of the successful businessman and businesswoman. All of a sudden, seeing the six figure cheques and big exotic cars made Azam a little mesmerised and interested with the MLM business.
“Great bro, you should come down to HQ with me tonight,” said Azam’s roommate and soon to be up line, “you should meet Boss, my mentor.”
“Alright,” agreed Azam.
Later that night, Azam followed his roommate to a big building downtown. There, he was taken up to the eighth floor and greeted with handshakes and hugs from people with black suits and red ties. His roommate led him to a small hall fill with people that was buzzing and cheering for the speaker in front.
“How is everyone doing?” asked the host.
“Outstanding!” answered the crowd.
“Who are we?”
“Somebody!”
“Who are we?”
“Somebody!”
The whole room echoed with the loud and spirited roar of pumped up audience. Azam was bemused by the reaction of the crowd towards the host. He would never foresee on that fateful night that his life would change forever. One by one, young men and women step up the stage and present their stories of success and astonishing rewards and benefits of this lucrative business. Some came from the slumps to get here and some even dropped out of college just to pursue their dreams of becoming a millionaire.

“So are you ready to turn your life around?” asked Boss.
“But don’t you think the registration fee a little steep especially for a student like me?” replied Azam.
“If there’s a will, there’s a way.”
“There’s no way I could dig up 2K.”
“Take out your phone,” said Boss as he passed a piece of paper and a pen to Azam, “write down all the names in your phonebook.”
“What for?”
“Just do it.”
Half an hour later, Boss came back to observe the progress on Azam.
“Now what?” asked Azam.
“You have listed more than a hundred names there. Isn’t it possible to borrow RM200 from at least a hundred people? So when you owe your friends RM200 doesn’t that make you feel obligated to pay them back as soon as possible? Think of it as a motivation to go all out in this business.”
Azam was caught in two minds. He is still unsure if he is willing to risk that much amount of money for this business. All night long Boss and a few of his big shot friends came and brainwashed Azam, persuading him to take the plunge. One of them was a 20 year old girl named Ema. Ema was a Felda girl who came to KL from Perak to seek for a better life. She made it big time in the business after just eight months. Somehow, there was chemistry between Azam and Ema. They talk and talk for hours.
Finally, as dawn approaches, Azam finally threw down his resistance. He accepted the deal and started immediately with his chase for the money. And after three days of persuading and pleading, he is ready to become a MLM businessman with Ema as his guide. And so Azam embarks on a journey into a whole new world of the unknown. He started with his friends which did not bare any real promise. Instead, he was criticised for his poor and risky decision.
After almost a month of fruitless business, Azam was feeling the pressure. He asked the big shots for some advice.
“How do you guys do it? I don’t think I have what it takes to become as successful as you are.”
“You know what’s your problem?” Pauses for a while. “You’re too nice!”
Azam was puzzled.
“You need to be ruthless, greedy, gung ho, in order to make it in this business,” said Boss, “You need to do whatever it takes to convince your potential customers. You can exaggerate, cheat and even lie. At least that’s how we do it.”
In his room, Azam kept thinking about what Boss have said. He knows that could never lie to gain anything. But he was at the point of no return. He had no choice. For the next month, Azam persevered even though there were times as thought all hope was gone. Day and night he set off in search for the elusive success. The business was taking its toll on Azam’s studies. There were even times where he would miss his prayers. Sue who did not know about Azam’s business was concerned for him. Azam felt guilty and starts to have second thoughts about the business. But Ema was always there to make him go on.
“Tell me what’s on your mind?” asked Ema.
“I don’t know if I should go on with this,” said Azam worriedly.
“You know, that was the exact same thing I said when I was in my second month of doing this business, and look at me now,” said Ema proudly, “you’re going to do just fine, believe me.”
Azam smiled.
“Thanks Ema for always being there for me,” said Azam, “if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t make it this far.”
They both stared at each other. And as they approach each other, they closed their eyes. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a loud knock on the windshield. It was JAIS. They were caught red handed in Ema’s M3. They were both charged with improper conduct and were fined RM2000 each and sent to a religious rehab facility for six months.
Six months have past since that disgraceful incident. Azam is now sitting on a rock, gazing at the pale white clouds in the sky with a little kitten in his arms which he just named Boo. He dropped out of UPSI and now waiting for his call-up from the United Nations. Azam always dreamed of seeing the world from his own eyes. He thought by doing this he could do some good in this world and make up for his past sins.
Looking back at the last few chapters of his life, Azam could not help to think how different it would be like if he had chosen a different path in life.
“What would have happened if I had stood up for my belief? Would it be any different if I asked Sue out? How would things turn out if I had the guts to face my fears and stop running? What if I just leave it all behind and follow my dreams? Would I be a different man?”

The one that got away

He was standing there in the middle of the airport. Sham kept turning to his watch. The KLIA was running slow that day. Everyone there seems to be moving one step slower than usual. Sham looked at every single person who walked in through the entrance. As each person pass by his mind drifted back in time.
Sham was sitting at KTM’s Seremban station waiting for the train. The rain had delayed the train for half an hour. There was no one in sight. It looked as though the railway was abandoned. Sham’s eyes were concentrating on the railroad when a girl walked passed his line of sight. As she sat down, her blue eyes gazed upon Sham’s. She was wearing a white baju kurung with small red flowers. Her long straight black hair dances as a gust of cold wind came through the station. Her fair radiant skin could make a Covergirl look ordinary.
“Where is the freaking train?!” Sham said slowly to himself as he crossed his arms.
Then, Pink’s So What song broke the silence. The blue eyed girl scrambles to get her phone in her handbag. She smiled before answering her phone.
“There goes another hot chick,” sighed Sham.
The train finally arrived much to Sham’s relief. With a deep breath he sat down in the train. His eyes scanned the seats for the blue eyed girl but she was nowhere to be seen. She was still outside talking on the phone. The train left for KL without her.
In KL, Sham went straight to the UN office. He was seeking for a job. Being a fresh English graduate, he wanted to see the world. Before this, the furthest land he managed to step upon was Singapore. And that was a Toastmasters’ club visit. Sham grew up in a small town in Negeri Sembilan called Kuala Pilah, about an hour away from Seremban. With only his hardworking mother and supportive sister as his role model, Sham went through life independently. His family watched him receive his degree in Putrajaya after three years in UM.
“This one would be perfect,” said Sham enthusiastically.
“You will be notified in three months time whether your application is accepted or not,” said the sweet officer as Sham handed in his application form.
Three months has past, Sham receives a phone call which is going to change his life forever.
“Yahoo! I’m going to Slovakia,” shouted Sham.
The next day, Sham was waiting for the train to KL to undergo a medical check-up. The train was delayed for half an hour by the rain.
“I’m freezing my rear here!” said Sham to himself, shivering.
“Cold day isn’t it?” a soft voice suddenly appeared beside Sham.
“Huh?” said confused Sham, turning his head instantly.
“I’m Ana, you might not remember me but I remember you.”
Sham immediately recognises her blue eyes. He couldn’t believe his luck. They connected instantly. They talked all the way to KL.
“Well, this is where I get off,” said Sham.
“Will I see you again?” asked Ana.
“Maybe,” answered Sham, “if you’ll be at Seremban station at 8 a.m. tomorrow.”
Ana smiled.
“I have to get on a plane to Slovakia tomorrow at noon.”
“That’s an odd holiday destination?” said Ana curiously.
“The UN is sending me there as their representative for the next three years.”
“Oh, good for you,” said Ana awkwardly, “it would be a great experience for you.”
“It is,” said excited Sham, “but I will miss Malaysia, my friends, my family,” added Sham.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be there tomorrow to send you on your way,” said Ana with a sweet smile.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Sham with a smile as he exits the train.
The time on Sham’s watch now shows 11.30 a.m. His mother and sister are beside him. Ana was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t even at the train station. The final call for Slovakia’s flight was just announced. Sham kept on staring at the entrance to the airport.
“Where are you?” whispered Sham as he looked at his watch again.
“What are you waiting for dear?” asked Sham’s mother, “you’re going to miss your flight.”
“Just a little while,” said Sham optimistically.
“You better go now or you’ll miss a chance of a lifetime,” said Sham’s sister firmly.
As he waived goodbye to his family, he felt sad. He knows he will never see her again.

It's been awhile

It’s been awhile since I’ve been to Masjid Jamek,
Seven years seems like seven days ago,
The coconut tree was still there,
At the back of the mosque,
And in the middle of the walk way,
Beside it use to be my favourite spot,
When Friday arrives,
And pupils and workers flock the mosque,
Answering God’s calling.

From a distance,
I could hear the bell rang seven times,
From Sultan Abdul Samad building,
Stick figures with glowing heads surround the building,
The Swallows come out,
And dance to a rhythmic formation in the sky,
In the gripping breeze of dusk.

Gombak and Klang come to greet each other,
Rising high with violent stream,
Above it stands the honking traffic,
Traffic lights urge the pedestrians across,
They came trickling in,
With their shiny black shoes,
And hands on their heads.

As I sat there, waiting,
I bare witness as darkness falls,
The glowing mole dominate the structure,
The white walls turn to gold,
Overhead the dusty fans hang motionless,
Watching silently as the crowd grows,
To answer the call of their Creator.

Journal Entry 6

Seen here in this photo is a butterfly on top of a hand. The hand belongs to Ridzuan, my friend and the butterfly belongs to nature of course. The outside part of the butterfly's wings are brown in colour whereas inside it is purple. This photo was taken on the fifth of February 2008 while I was on a camping trip at Gunung Nuang. It was a trip organized by the UNITAR Recreation and Adventure Club or better known as URAC. Almost forty UNITAR students took part in the 3 day 2 night expedition. I took the photo while we were on a break from the hike to our camp site. We were sitting beside a waterfall, quenching our thirst when a beautiful butterfly came out of nowhere and landed on Ridzuan's hand. It seemed not disturbed by the number of curious and amazed eyes concentrating on it, watching its every move. Ridzuan didn't dare to move his hand, afraid the butterfly would fly away. Amazingly, the butterfly did not budge and kept on slowly and gracefully flapping its wings until it was time for us to continue our journey to our camp site.

Child of Burning Time

I'm looking to the sky to save me,

Looking for a sign of life,

Looking for something help me burn out bright,

Fly along with me,

I can't quite make it alone,

Try to make this life my own.

All I need is a moment,

Chance to get away,

From the stressfulness of every day,

Know if I don't question,

And I never doubt,

Everything is going to be okay.

I need somebody, someone,

Can’t somebody help me?

All I need is to be,

Loved just for me.