I find myself steadiest when I am busy. I think most people feel this way now, whether they admit it or not. When you are doing nothing, your mind starts building strange, deep thoughts and then those thoughts lead to other thoughts. You start doubting yourself, you hesitate in moving forward, your self-esteem gets smaller and smaller, and so on.

I am not trying to imply that it is bad to sit with your thoughts, or to let them run deep and take you somewhere unexpected. We think because we are human, and it is one of the most natural things we do and I do not believe anyone should be afraid of it. But for me specifically, sitting still for too long does something else. It builds strange, doubting thoughts that make me feel like I am smaller as a person, thoughts that chip away rather than build up. So I am not avoiding myself from thinking; it is just what my mind tends to do when I am in a position with too much room to think, hence why I like to keep myself busy.

But lately I am busy in a way I have never been before. I am juggling my NGO work, my internship and my freelance projects, all at once. I struggle to find the time to see my friends now. The stress that I have been going through lately makes me feel, some days, that I might break down completely.

My phone is usually unmuted. I like to be reachable. But recently I keep it on silent, because the WhatsApp notifications do not stop, group chats and personal chats, all about work, one after another. I am overwhelmed. I cannot even keep up my TikTok streaks with my friends anymore, which sounds small, but it is one more thing I have been stressing about so I don’t disappoint my friends. (LOL!)

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Still, who am I to complain? I chose every one of these paths myself. I like the work I do. I never expected it to feel like this. I like contributing to society. I like being part of filmmaking, which is my internship. I like writing, which is my freelance work. I chose all of it.

I will say that is the cost of trying to be everything at once. But there is a good side to it too. I am doing something with my life. I no longer spiral into the kind of overthinking that used to make me doubt myself, that used to wear my self-esteem down. I am too busy for that now.

Not everyone gets to be busy. Being busy is a privilege. Having something worthwhile to pour your time into is a privilege. Having a life so full of your own passions that there is barely room to breathe, that too, is a privilege. The only real task left is to take care of yourself inside it, and to find some kind of balance before the busyness starts taking more than it gives.

I think about this a lot actually, on how exhaustion and gratitude can sit in the same body at the same time. I am tired but I am also lucky. And neither one cancels the other out. Some nights I lie awake running through the next day’s list, NGO event proposal deadlines, a scene I still have to recheck, a client waiting on a script, and I notice that even in the middle of the list, I am not thinking about whether I am good enough. I am only thinking about the work. That, I have decided, is the trade I am making. I give up the quiet hours. I get back a version of myself who does not spend those hours doubting.

I do not know yet if this is sustainable. I suspect it is not, maybe not forever. But for now, being this busy is the closest I have come to feeling like I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I just need to be more mindful in taking care of myself, physically and emotionally.

Thanks for reading~~~

I’ve been told by a lot of our relatives that I look a lot like my late grandmother, your mom, my dad’s mom. She died when I was really young, so I have zero memory of her. I don’t even remember what she looks like. My mom told me once that you used to get teary just looking at me, because of how much I resemble her. My reaction was simply putting on a poker face, like I couldn’t care less. Do I actually care? Yes.

Ayah, it was my birthday yesterday. You never wished me happy birthday. Maybe you did when I was younger, when I was your little daughter, your sweet, cute, beautiful pride. But I feel totally fine about that, because I never wished you a happy birthday either. Just like how we never say “I love you” to each other, the way you’ve never told me you’re proud of me.

Sometimes I feel like I’m your least favourite child. Is it because I’m the only girl? You’re quite the temper, too. Maybe I took after that from you. But our difference is I would never blame people for the things they never did.

Ayah, you really get on my nerves sometimes. You tend to challenge my temper a lot. You smoke in front of me, and I actually hate the smell of smoke so much. But that doesn’t erase the love I have for you. You were the first man to ever shower me with love, hugs, and kisses. Maybe it isn’t as obvious as it used to be, but to this day, I can still tell that you love me.

When I was 18, right after I graduated high school, I worked full time at a phone store under the brand OPPO while waiting for university enrollment. I remember one day you came to my workplace and bought a phone from me, even though you weren’t a fan of the model, but you were just there to help me earn commission and reach my sales target.

You drove all the way from home to send me back to college, almost every week. You still give me an allowance. You’d come home from work carrying my favourite food, to the point I got sick of eating the same thing. You still kiss my forehead sometimes. You once asked me to make again a dish I’d cooked the day before, just because you liked it.

Ayah, our relationship may not be ideal. It’s confusing, honestly. But I see the effort. And although you’ve hurt me deeply, I know, deep down, I still love you, and you love me too.

I would never go for a guy like you. I never would. But in another life, I hope we get to try again, as father and daughter. Just promise me you’ll be a better guy.

Your little girl,

Aishah.

The reason I’m back is because I have something meaningful I’d like to share. I mentioned this in a previous post, but I’m currently part of a non-profit youth organisation that focuses on hosting events for underprivileged children. So yeah pretty much I’ve been quite busy with that too.

I want to share about an event our organisation hosted on the 4th and 5th of April. We went back to the first home we visited when our team was first formed, but this time we had more new recruits with us. I hold a very special place in my heart for that home as it was the first time I ever committed to a meaningful charity event, and the kids there left me with such a wonderful impression.

The greatest part was how some of the kids remembered me even though my last visit was back in September 2025. One of them pointed at me and shouted, “Teacher! Teacher!” And that’s because during our first event, we were asked to draw ourselves as our dream job, and I drew myself as a teacher.

That alone made me feel so welcomed again. But I also felt a bit of sorrow when I noticed an older girl from the home wasn’t there. I asked the caretaker about her and she told me the girl had enrolled in college and is no longer under the home’s guidance. It’s upsetting because I did feel a connection with her when I visited last year. We had so many conversations together. We talked about our dreams, hobbies, love and other things. Not being able to bid her a proper farewell and wish her well for college just makes me feel like I haven’t done a good job at keeping in contact.

We proceeded with the day according to our planned itinerary. The event focused on occupations and personal dreams, so I believe it was something meaningful for the kids and for us too. It was held over 2 days. The first day was us visiting the home, and the next day we brought them to Kidzania. I believe many of us are familiar with Kidzania!

The most important part for me was the second day. Seeing the kids again all fired up and excited to play and run around Kidzania, unlocked this motherly feeling in me lol. A boy asked me to hold on to his money, and that sense of trust they placed in me made me feel like I’m someone they can rely on. I’m really grateful for that.

It was tiring having to tag along and look after 2 to 4 kids at once, even though we were split into groups. But it was also incredibly heartwarming to be there for them so they could experience something not every child has the opportunity to.

Some roleplay activities in Kidzania required real money instead of Kidzania’s fake currency. The kids were pulling my hand, asking if they could do those. It was quite pricey but after paying for them, I didn’t even feel like I wasted a single cent nor did I have the urge to get the money reimbursed. Getting to see those kids have fun without any worries in the world is worth so much more than the money I paid even though I’m just a broke student myself.

buy me a coffeeee :)

An older girl, 17 year old Kritihka, bought me a heart shaped pen using her Kidzania money. Even the day before, she gave me her dreamboard with her name on it and whispered in my ear, “So you don’t forget me.” Oh my goddddd. How could I ever forget such a beautiful soul? Her giving me these things makes me feel like I’m not doing enough. All I wish for now is to reunite with her, wish her the very best for her big exam, and try to keep in contact, in case she has to leave anytime soon.

Spending nearly the whole day with those kids, watching over them and cheering them on while they roleplayed different jobs, filled me with this immense sense of fulfilment and satisfaction. So when I had to leave a little early, before the last activity which was the reflection circle, I did feel a bit upset. I wanted to say a proper goodbye but they were all so absorbed in their own little worlds, having so much fun so I guess I’ll just go lmao.

On my way home, I started pondering and looking back at everything that happened that day, from arriving at Kidzania to leaving the place. I thought about the looks on their faces when they first stepped in, their faces when they completed a job mission, their faces when they asked me to wait outside while they had fun inside the activity booths, their faces when they got to bring home the food they prepared themselves. It made me realize how so many kids out there are not exposed to these kinds of opportunities. The kids I was with weren’t even familiar with Subway, A&W, Baskin Robbins, or Tealive (a very famous Malaysian beverage brand) and yet some of us out here are still complaining over small things. The pure, genuine happiness carved into their faces made me realize how privileged I’ve been. I saw how easily they lit up over the simplest experiences and how deeply they appreciated moments that others might take for granted. Their joy was so honest that it hit me how often I compare myself to those more privileged than me, but rarely to those who have had it harder.

On my journey home, I cried 4 times. I believe it was mostly out of happiness. Getting to bring happiness to others brings so much joy back to me. Seeing these innocent kids have the time of their lives throws me into such nostalgia. I think it’s also because of how attached I’ve grown to them and how I truly believe they are some of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever met.

I want them to have all the good things in life. I want them to achieve success and show the world that they are so much more than just kids from a shelter home.

Fyi: Our organisation is EXTREMELY open to donations. Lmk if you feel like donating :p

Himizu (2011)

most stories about young people struggling will show you the internal battle, like their quiet suffering and the journey inward. and undeniably, those are beautiful in their own way. but Himizu shows you what happens when the struggle isn’t just inside you but instead, it’s the entire world around you actively working against your existence.

the main character is dealing with his own demons, with a society that’s already written him off, parents who treat him like a burden, an economy that’s collapsed, literal destruction everywhere. it’s a hard watch, i can’t deny. and while that, the film still doesn’t try to make any of it look poetic or meaningful. the director himself, Sion Sono shoots it harsh and chaotic because that’s what it actually feels like when everything’s falling apart at once.

there’s this moment that really stuck with me where i realize the film is about that specific kind of hope that exists even when it logically shouldn’t. not those typical “everything will be okay” hope. but this film delivers the “i don’t even know why i’m still going but i am” hope. and that felt so real to me it hurt. sob sob.

i wouldn’t classify this film as something that would comfort you. it just shows you the truth and trusts you to sit with it. if you want something raw and real, something that doesn’t shy away from how heavy life can actually get, watch this one!

The Paradise of Thorns (2024)

this one’s still sitting heavy in my mind and i need to talk about it.

this film caught me completely off guard. i went in not knowing it was a bl film, which i’m not a big fan of (lmao), but there’s a reason i stayed. the setting, which is an area of rural thailand, quiet village life. then there’s the atmosphere, the way every line lands, it all pulled me in immediately. and what i found was something way more complex and uncomfortable than i expected.

here’s what makes this film different: it tackles an issue we don’t really see portrayed often and it does it without any of the usual safety nets. the conflicts aren’t clean and the misunderstandings aren’t easily resolved. also there’s this desperation that turns into violence but still, the film shows you exactly how that happens, step by step. everything is visualized so beautifully it almost distracts you from how brutal the emotions actually are.

and i have a hot take about this film: if you’re gonna watch it, you might think “wow she’s terrible” and then “this guy’s a complete scumbag.” i did too. but the longer i sat with it, the more i realized that there are no villains here. they’re humans. people who feel too much and get consumed by their own hurt, who make choices driven by emotion and revenge because that’s what humans do when we’re backed into corners.

also a thing i truly loved is how this film doesn’t give you anyone to root for cleanly. it just shows you how messy and raw people can be when they’re struggling, and trusts you to understand the weight of that.

if you want something that’ll make you think differently about morality and human nature, watch this one. just be ready for it to linger.

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Red Flowers and Green Leaves (2018)

okay so this might be one of the most underrated films i’ve ever seen. it has less than 100 members on letterboxd dude that’s actually insane for how special this is.

i’m not gonna tell you it’s flawless because honestly the acting is quite meh at times lol. the cast isn’t well-known and you can tell but somehow that doesn’t ruin it. if anything, it makes it feel more real.

so this film is about chinese muslims, the hui community in rural northwest china and i don’t think i’ve ever seen that on screen before. the film doesn’t preach or explain their culture but shows you how they live and love naturally. it’s a slow film about an arranged marriage and what comes after. the script was minimal but every line hit deep.

i’d like to point out how this film flips the usual love story. it’s not about falling in love first then getting married. it’s about building love after marriage, slowly and patiently. the guy starts out hesitant but realizes over time that she’s his whole world and it’s just truly beautiful. it’s real. that guy isn’t perfect, they’re awkward, but it’s the reality. she’s so patient through it all and it’s genuinely wholesome in a way that gave me hope.

for my muslim readers, i truly encourage you to check this out. it’s such a beautiful representation that we rarely get to see. and for everyone else, if you want something different, something that shows love as something you build rather than something that just happens, watch this. it deserves way more attention! (this one’s available on youtube btw hehe)

Kotoko (2011)

this is lowkey the most depressing thing i’ve ever watched and i actually cried SO HARD not because i could relate to it but because of how badly i felt knowing this could be happening to so many people out there right now.

this gut wrenching japanese film is about a single mother struggling with severe mental illness while trying to care for her infant son. she suffers from double vision and hallucinations, which she sees two of everyone and can’t tell which one is real, which one will hurt her. imagine trying to protect your child when you can’t even trust your own perception of reality.

now from a fresh perspective, it’s not just a story about mental illness. it’s a harsh reality check about how important mental health support actually is and what happens when someone doesn’t have it. Kotoko is completely alone in her struggle. she’s working full-time, raising a baby by herself, self-harming just to feel real and society is either staring at her like she’s not human or ignoring her completely.

and then there’s the partner element. when someone finally shows up in her life, the film shows you how crucial having the right support system is. not someone who just tolerates your struggles but someone who actually stays even when things get violent and messy and impossible.

it’s so devastating because of how real it feels. mental illness is still taboo in japan and this film doesn’t shy away from showing the brutal consequences of that silence. Kotoko’s suffering escalates because no one around her knows how to help and she’s deemed unfit as a mother when really she just needed proper care and support.

i cried watching this because the whole time i kept thinking: how many people are going through this right now? how many mothers are struggling in silence because they’re afraid of being judged or losing their children? how many people see the world as threatening and can’t tell what’s real anymore?

lots of trigger warning though in this film, it is uncomfortable and painful to watch but it’s kinda necessary. it shows you the weight of untreated mental illness and the importance of actually being there for people who are drowning. if you can handle something heavy and real, i recommend this. just prepare yourself emotionally.

Thirteen (2003)

this was one of the first heavy films i watched when i was trying to get into the whole cinephile thing lmao and yes it shifted something in me.

i know this film gets talked about a lot and it’s not really underrated too, especially from the peer pressure angle of how quickly tracy spirals because of evie’s influence. but let me discuss something else, watching her family fall apart in real time.

everyone focuses on the friends, the drugs, the rebellion. but the part that genuinely hurt me was seeing her mom try so hard and still not be enough. and tracy knowing she’s disappointing her family, watching her mom’s heart break over and over but being too deep in it to stop.

i’m not saying everyone comes from a good household or has that kind of dynamic but if you do have people who care about you, this film makes you think about what it means to watch yourself become unrecognizable to them and feeling the weight of that. how easy it is to lose yourself and hurt everyone around you in the process.

apart of this film highlighting peer influence, it’s also about how quickly things can spiral when you’re searching for something such as acceptance, escape, identity, whatever and how the people who love you can only watch and try to catch you before you hit the ground. this was one of those films that made me look at life differently.

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Le Bonheur (1965)

agnès varda said fuck men with this one lmaooooo

okay no but seriously this film made me want to scream into the void but in the same time it’s also a masterpiece. let me explain.

on the surface, this film looks like the most beautiful, dreamy thing you’ve ever seen. bright colors, fields of flowers, mozart playing, a perfect little family having picnics in the countryside. it’s gorgeous, looks like happiness itself.

and then you realize that’s the whole point. IT’S A TRAPPPP.

the film is about this guy who’s married with kids and he starts an affair with another woman. and here’s the thing that makes you want to flip a table… he genuinely believes he can love both of them equally. he tells his wife about the affair thinking she’ll just... accept it? because in his mind love isn’t about sacrifice or consideration, it’s just about what makes HIM happy. more love for him = more happiness… BULLSHIT…………

and the way varda shoots this is so deliberately deceptive. everything is pretty and pastoral and peaceful but underneath it’s absolutely rotten. the film truly judge him outright and shows you his logic, his complete lack of self-awareness and lets you sit with how horrifying that actually is.

what really pissed me off is how easily he just replaces people. like they’re interchangeable. the women in this film don’t really speak for themselves. they exist around his happiness and when tragedy happens (no spoilers but YOU KNOW), he just moves on. seamlessly… because for him happiness continues regardless of who’s actually there to share it with. see how evil a man can be *that one pissed off emoji*

if you want something that looks beautiful but will make you FURIOUS watch this.

Muriel’s Wedding (1994)

AHHH I LOVE THIS FILM THIS ONE HAS THE BEST SOUNDTRACK EVER and toni collette is an absolute star in this. but more importantly this film changed how i think about happiness.

so the main character played by toni collette, called muriel, spends most of the time obsessed with getting married. she thinks of a wedding, a husband, a white dress, the whole fantasy will fix everything wrong with her life. she lies, she steals, she makes terrible choices all in pursuit of this one thing she’s convinced will make her complete.

and then somewhere along the way, she realizes that this isn’t it.

this film reminds me so much of that jo march quote from Little Women “i’m so sick of people saying that love is all a woman is fit for, but i’m so lonely.” because that’s exactly where muriel starts. she’s been told her whole life that she’s worthless unless someone loves her, unless she gets that ring, unless she becomes a wife. and she believes it so deeply that she nearly destroys herself trying to make it happen.

but what makes this film so significant to me is watching her realize that there are way better, happier things out there than chasing romance. friendship and self-respect. to actually like who you are and to choose yourself over what everyone else expects from you.

women can be genuinely happy without romantic love being the center of everything. we’re not incomplete just because we’re single and we’re also not failures because we didn’t get the fairy tale ending society promised us.

love how this film is so whimsical and messy and heartbreaking and hopeful all at once. it’s about unlearning everything you were told about your worth and finding out who you actually are underneath all that noise. ugh such a beautiful piece.

if you need a reminder that you’re enough on your own watch this!!!!!! and also just for the ABBA soundtrack alone honestly.

buy me a coffee!!!!

honestly i’m so passionate about films and i genuinely love writing about them. if any of these caught your attention and you end up watching them i really hope you love them as much as i do. i’m not trying to overhype anything or set crazy expectations but these films opened my eyes in ways i didn’t expect and i hope they can do something similar for you too. whether it’s shifting a perspective, making you feel something deep or just giving you a new lens to see the world through, that’s what cinema does best. thanks for reading and happy watching!

let me just get this out of the way: the moment i make it big, youre all getting blocked, deleted, unfollowed. i’m talking about everyone. my best friend who’s seen me cry over the dumbest things, my mom who still reminds me to eat breakfast, that teacher who actually believed after seeing me fail multiple times and cry over the subject, the cousin who hyped up my terrible early attempts at everything. gone… all of you. i’ll be too busy being fabulous and important and wearing sunglasses indoors.

okay whatever obviously i’m joking but like... aren’t we all a little suspicious when someone successful says “i’ll never forget where i came from”? it’s become such a cliché that we almost roll our eyes at it. we’ve seen it happen too many times where one day someone gets a little taste of success and suddenly they don’t know you anymore. their phone stops working when you call. they’re always “so busy” but somehow never too busy to post vacation pics from places you can’t pronounce.

so when i say i won’t forget, i get why you might not believe me. i barely believe people when they say it either.

but here’s the thing i’ve been thinking about lately; how would i even forget? like mechanically, how does that work? how do you forget the friend who lets you crash at their dorm because your uni has curfew and you’ve passed the curfew? how do you forget your teacher staying after school to explain something for the third time because they saw something in you that you didn’t see in yourself? how do you forget your sibling covering for you after coming back home at 1.24 a.m.? how could you forget your parents who’ve been there since day 1 and have witnessed every single phases of your life?

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these people aren’t just in my memory like files i can delete. they’re in the way i think, the way i speak, the jokes i make, the things i value, the moments i feel proud of myself. my friend’s humor is in my humor now. my teacher’s patience is in how i approach problems. my family’s resilience is in my bones. you can’t just extract that. it’s not like removing a tooth. it’s like trying to remove your own skeleton.

so to be logical that’s what makes the whole “i’ll never change” promise so weird. because i probably will change if success comes. everyone does. the question isn’t whether you’ll change though, it’s whether you’ll change into someone unrecognizable or someone who grows while keeping their roots intact.

i think what scares me most isn’t that i’d wake up one day and actively decide “okay time to be a terrible person who forgets everyone.” it’s more subtle than that, isn’t it? it’s the slow drift. it’s how you might start thinking your new circle understands you better. how old friends might start feeling like they’re from a different lifetime. how you might start believing your own narrative a little too much, that you did this all yourself, that you’re self-made, that you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps or whatever.

but i wasn’t self-made. nobody is. i was made by every person who chose to care, to stay, to believe, to push and to catch me when i fell.

anyway like i’m not even saying it’s guaranteed that i’ll be rich and famous someday lolol but i hope so plzplplz… and i’m not out here manifesting or whatever (in Islam we don’t really do that hahaha we make dua and we work hard and we trust Allah’s plan #Aamin). but i think about it sometimes not because i’m obsessed with fame or money though it’s just that i’m a human and i want my efforts to mean something. i want to build something and i want to make the people who believed in me proud.

so if we’re being honest here, what i really should be asking Allah for isn’t just success. it’s to grant me success that doesn’t hollow me out. wealth that doesn’t make me poor in character. recognition that doesn’t make me forget who recognized me first when i was nobody special. i should be asking to become the kind of successful that makes my 10 year old self proud.

but tbf, i’m already rich. not in the way people usually mean it but like the richest version of yourself isn’t the one with the biggest bank account. it’s when you’re full of love and you’re surrounded by people who actually know you. it’s being open to experiences, to growth, to the messiness of real connection. if that’s not wealth, i don’t know what is. so maybe what i’m really chasing isn’t riches… it’s just more of what i already have but with the financial stability to not stress about it HAHA LOL.

buy me a coffeeeee :))

because here’s what i know; the version of me that hypothetically “makes it” will only be worth celebrating if they’re still the kind of person who answers their mom’s calls, who shows up for their friend’s random tuesday crisis, who remembers their teacher’s name, who stays humble enough to know that being on top of the world just means you have further to fall if you forget what ground feels like.

so yes. once i’m rich and famous, i’ll forget all of you.

that’s what i’m most terrified of becoming… the kind of person who could say that and mean it.

whatever it is i’m going to try my absolute hardest not to be. i’m going to try to stay tethered to the people and moments that made me. and if i start drifting, if success starts going to my head, if i start acting like i invented myself, believe me you have full permission to call me out and slap the shit out of me. better yet, remind me of those embarrassing things i did in 2019-2021. that’ll bring me right back down to earth.

until then, we’re all in this together. you’re stuck with me and if things work out, i’m stuck with you too. hehehehehe.

thanks for reading have a beautiful day everyone xoxo

we sometimes talk about love and our type when it comes to our future partner and things like that however, i have always been meaning to say this to my friends but i could never seem to say it out loud.

whenever i have a friend who says things like “he’s such a good man he prays 5 times a day and he barely has any female friends i need him”, i NEVER meant to take it that deep, to be so serious about this situation and conversation. but have you ever thought?

you want this “perfect” muslim guy who performs his obligations and fulfils his duty perfectly as a muslim but you refuse to even commit to the 5 pillars of islam that were taught to us since we were kids.

you want someone who prays 5 times a day but you’re not doing it. you want someone who doesn’t talk much to the opposite gender but you hang out with the opposite gender a lot like it’s a daily routine. you want someone who’s soft spoken and polite but you yourself talk with zero filters and harshly. you want someone who takes care of their modesty and reputation very well but you’re the opposite of the thing you’re demanding.

which made me wonder; who are you to expect this kind of person to enter your life?

and i’m not saying this to be harsh or to imply that ‘oh you’re a sinner you don’t deserve a good person’. no that’s not what i meant at all. we are ALL sinners. i know we’re all trying, we’re all learning and growth isn’t a straight line. but what i’m trying to say is if you know what’s right and you’re capable of doing it but choose not to, then how can you expect someone who’s committed to that path to walk alongside you? get on that person’s level. it’s about meeting them where they are or at least genuinely working towards it.

i know in my previous work i did say “go chase that person!” but don’t get me wrong, you do you but there’s a limit to it.

for me and for my muslim readers, ours is pretty much stricter. you want to chase someone who’s this perfect ideal person or an idea of a lover you want but it won’t be blessed if it’s something that is opposing what we’re supposed to do as muslims.

instead of chasing a person, start chasing Allah SWT and soon enough He will send the right person for you without you having to chase them at all.

and i say this for myself too. i know i am lacking A LOT. it’s deceiving if i say i don’t care about the people around me having boyfriends and girlfriends. it’s deceiving if i say i don’t care when a man suddenly acts really nice around me and shows interest.

but it’s all in the matter of protecting your iman to Allah SWT.

and by that it’s a matter of your own discipline towards the religion too.

if something is decreasing your iman avoid it. leave anything or ANYONE that comes between you and Allah SWT. may our iman be the shield that protects us from sins.

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and i know this is like one of the hardest things ever to do. it is extremely hard for me as well. i’m no saint. i’m far from that. i may seem like a preserved person for writing this but i’m not and i’m trying. i really am. therefore i’m writing this just so it can help me remind myself every single time.

i’ve quit doing talking stages. i’ve quit trying to get myself involved with a man romantically (in a haram way). and i hope this quitting will last to the day that someone finally sincerely and rightfully finds me as a person to marry. to be frank i really am saving myself until marriage. hehe.

i love loving someone. i love admiring someone. i love devoting my will to write and draw someone as my muse. i want to love someone deeply like everyone else does. but in order for me to do that it’s important for me to put myself first and Him.

if i’m given a heart that loves and cares for someone deeply, i’d like to believe that Allah SWT has already written someone into my story who could shower me with love the same way. and when that person comes, i want to be someone worthy of that love too.

the right person won’t pull you away from Allah SWT. they’ll walk with you towards Him. and that’s the truly kind of love worth waiting for.

and currently i’m rewatching reply 1988 (2015), which is actually my 4th? 5th? time rewatching it lol idk some things are just so good. and there’s this scene from episode 14 that i resonate with A LOT.

i can say that i relate to this so much. not that i’ve never received a love confession or what, i did but somehow those men always turn out to be the worst mankind ever. i usually act like i’m cool about it like oh this is my villain arc i’m now a man hater and all those things but i actually am still wounded by it. do i not deserve to be loved normally like others?

but then again, if that person never hurt me, would i ever learn to depend on Allah SWT? would i ever think of going back to the person i was?

i think it’s such a beautiful and delicate thing, that i wanted to experience something so badly, knowing it’s no good for me and when i got it, it turned out to be a bad experience, so then Allah SWT knew that i’m not made for that. oh to be protected from sinful things. i am so grateful.

buy me a coffee (desperate tone)

back to the reply 1988 scene that i was referring to, “why isn’t there anyone who likes me?” i thought about this.

but then when i think again, it’s hard to find someone actually decent and truly compatible for us. at least it’s hard for me idk about others though. but i’m not complaining either; well i’m still young and life’s still ahead of me, love is nothing i should stress about right now.

anyway yeah, when i look at the men around me for now, not even one person i could think of having anything romantic with, you may refer to me as narcissistic but it’s important to acknowledge what’s best for us.

someone who’s on our level, someone who’s walking the same path. someone whose values don’t just match ours on paper but in practice, in the everyday choices they make. because what’s the point of longing for someone whose life pulls them in a completely different direction from where you’re trying to go? you need someone who’ll make the journey easier, not harder. someone who reminds you of Allah when you see them, not someone who makes you forget Him.

i’m writing this as much for you as i am for myself. i’m not where i want to be yet, not even close. some days i’m strong in my faith, other days i’m barely holding on. some days i feel confident in my choices, other days i wonder if i’m doing any of this right.

but i think that’s the point. trying is a big part of growth, you don’t just immediately become perfect. we fall and get back up and that’s totally fine; it reminds us of why we started in the first place.

so here’s to us trying our best. here’s to protecting what matters. here’s to becoming the person we’re meant to be, slowly but surely.

may Allah make it easy for us. ameen.

buy me a coffee (2x more desperate tone)

anyway thank you so much for reading. have a beautiful day.

“what will you do after this?” — my friend asked me that while we were talking about the things we want to achieve once we finish our degree.

what do i want to do?

i’m not sure. i want to sit for my masters, but i also think about getting a job first so i can have my own income. then again part of me wants to just settle down for a bit and travel with my friends. and i also did thought about marriage even though there’s no one in mind. my mom told me that if i get married early she wouldn’t worry as much if i decide to pursue my masters overseas.

a big part of adulthood is honestly not knowing what the fuck we’re doing. i’m still figuring things out and just going wherever the wind takes me.

when i was a kid i couldn’t wait to be an adult. i thought by then i’d have everything figured out. we were told to look up to adults so i assumed they knew how to do everything. i thought adulthood is where i can finally find certainty, confidence and no more worrying.

but growing up, people kept telling us “act like an adult,” “be an adult,” “act your age,” while never actually teaching us how to be one. so how are we supposed to know what to do? how to act? we all get the same 24 hours a day to try and figure life out.

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i’m an adult now, and there are still so many things i can’t do. i can’t drive yet, i get scared of the dark sometimes, my sense of direction is terrible, i don’t know how to cook complicated dishes. being an adult doesn’t mean achieving everything all at once. we’re still in this trial and error phase. honestly i think that applies to every age. we all grow and learn things step by step.

for a long time, i thought “growing up” only applied to kids. that once you hit 18 or 19 you stop growing and you’re supposed to be wise enough. turns out growing up never stops. even at 80 you’re still learning something new and still becoming a better version of yourself. all those lessons eventually become the “greatness” we looked up to as kids.

and knowing that, i can’t really blame my parents when they don’t know how to handle something. being a parent or an adult doesn’t mean you automatically know what to do. my mom didn’t just appear as a mom. it’s her first time being one. it’s my dad’s first time being a dad.

every role we get in life is something we’re learning as we go. we’re all just trying to figure out how to play our part in the best way we can.

in the end we all just wake up every day and do it anyway. waking up itself feels like one big effort in growing up. so if i don’t have it all figured out it’s fine. just remind me that no one else does either.

this is the only life we’ve got so we might as well spend it on the things we like and the things we want to do. go chase that dream! go chase that person! go and don’t look back. but also take your time because life isn’t a race. some things come fast, some things come slow and some things come only when you’re finally ready for them.

buy me a coffee :)

thank you for reading! have a wonderful day everyone xoxo

a world without me is my mom losing her only girl to share the weight of the house. the one who did the chores the way she liked, better than her 3 sons ever tried.

a world without me is my dad missing the daughter who made him hot drinks, quick snacks and simple western dinners when he didn’t ask for.

a world without me is my brothers not having someone to break the tension at family gatherings or to pull up movies on pirated websites so we could all laugh together.

a world without me is my friends losing the one who threw out the most random, dumb jokes just to keep the air light and make sure no one felt bored or alone.

a world without me is my grandmother without someone to call on a quiet thursday at 3pm , asking if i’d had lunch, just so she wouldn’t feel the day swallowing her whole.

a world without me is my relatives missing the person they always felt easy around and the one who slipped into the kitchen to help without being asked.

a world without me is my lecturers facing the same silence in class, without me lifting a hand to answer their questionable questions.

a world without me is my high school teachers losing the girl who barged into the staff room for the ac, only to end up stapling exercises and helping pass them to every class.

i want to believe that i matter in people’s lives. most of the time, it feels nice when someone actually looks for me. it’s comforting when someone can rely on me even for small things. it makes me feel like i actually leave a little bit of myself behind in ways that matter.

buy me a coffee

when i was a kid i believed aliens and mermaids were real. i even prayed to God to turn me into a mermaid. that is what happens when your parents bring home dvds of barbie fairytopia and barbie a mermaid tale and you watch them on loop until the disc is probably tired of spinning.

people say i am crazy but honestly i still want to believe aliens and mermaids could be real. when i was 15 i wanted to be a marine biologist because i read a whole book about the ocean that said we have only explored around 5-8% of it. that means around 95% or less is still unknown. that’s so mysterious. i used to fantasize being the first person on earth to officially document the true existence of mermaids and whatever weird unknown undiscovered creatures deep deep deeeeeepp down in the dark ocean.

then i got older and tiktok happened and people started posting that mermaids are not actually pretty and magical but terrifying and ugly creatures. meanwhile sirens are the pretty ones. truth is i am 20 now and i am still curious. i have seen so many videos on youtube and tiktok but honestly anything can be edited on the internet. yet there’s a part of me that wants it to be real so badly like plsplsplslpslsls.

when i was younger me and my brother would watch those videos titled ‘10 people with superpowers caught on camera’ or ‘proof mermaids are real caught on camera’ and i believed every second. i think a lot of us grew up on those videos. there is no way they got millions of views and nobody else remembers them.

anyway back to the multiverse thing. am i silly for wishing it is real…? because it actually could be.

maybe in another universe there is a version of me who is an olympic champion and everyone knows her name.

maybe there is another me who studies stem overseas and understands add math and phagocytosis without crying.

maybe there is a me who is married early and actually having a great time.

maybe there is a version of me who streams video games and has a tiny internet cult following.

sometimes i wonder what i would say to these other versions of me. like if i met olympic champion me, would she look at me and think i am wasting potential or would she say something like hey thank you for resting for both of us.

and the stem overseas me. hm… does she wake up and understand everything instantly or does she also stare at her notes like they are written in ancient alien language? does she drink iced coffee at 3 am because she thinks caffeine equals productivity or is she actually practicing healthy lifestyle?

and thennnn the me who got married early. is she happy like genuinely happy or does she secretly wonder about all the lives she could have lived? does she ever think about the version of me who chose chaos and uncertainty and late night existential spirals?

and the gamer streamer me. i want to know if she has a small community of people who love her weird jokes and stay in her stream just to listen to her talk yapa yapa yapa about nothing? i wonder if she also forgets to drink water.

call me weird but sometimes i do think that these other versions of me exist and sometimes i feel like they send me these tiny signals… ok i know i sound crazy af rn hear me out there’s just times when i suddenly get a random idea or wave of motivation out of nowhere.

ok silly me maybe that’s just another inner me screaming go do it lazy coward.

if the multiverse is real then that means every choice i did not make is still being lived somewhere else.

wait what if maybe somewhere out there, there is also a version of me who already found mermaids omg.

as usual, buy me a coffee!

today was so tiring and i am feeling a bit grumpy from all this tiredness but i need to write this down before it escapes my brain forever because i kinda have a goldfish memory. i am kinda half asleep. i havent watched a single twin peaks episode today. im so busy. somebody hit me with a ball right in my face today. it hurts and i bled. i want my mom. anyway my eyes are begging me to stop typing goodnight everybody sleep tight dont let bed bugs bite.

ok gn fr

“And we created you in pairs.”

[Qur’an 78:8]

this seemingly simple verse holds a big meaning. it signifies the creation of male and female pairs to form loving bonds and to procreate.

upon first hearing about this verse… it used to make me wonder. what about the ones who never got married? the ones who got divorced? the ones who got married to the wrong people? the ones who have multiple wives?

please take note that i wrote this as a learner, not a scholar. by sharing what i’ve personally read and watched.

the meaning of “pairs” as mentioned in the Surah An-Naba in the Qur’an is not exclusively limited to the marital relationship but also signifies dichotomies and counterparts in all of creation.

night and day.

light and darkness.

good and evil.

male and female.

when referring specifically to the creation of humans, its primary meaning is the creation of male and female.

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back to the first verse in this post, [Qur’an 78:8], the verse fundamentally establishes the natural design of humanity in 2 complementary sexes which are male and female. this pairing is the basis for the institution of marriage and family life, which the Qur’an describes as a source of Sakinah (tranquillity and peace), Mawaddah (love and affection) and Rahmah (mercy and compassion). [Qur’an 30:21]

now, what about the ones who never got married?

muslims believe in the 6 pillars of Iman (faith) — the last one is believing in Qada’ and Qadar, which can also be translated as divine decree. it brings the meaning that relates to this verse is that a person’s life trajectory, including marriage is part of Allah SWT’s decree and wisdom. not everyone is destined to marry in this worldly life (dunya).

apart from that, Islam itself strongly encourages marriage for those who have the means and desire as it protects against sin and fulfills half of one’s faith. a hadith said; “When a man marries he has fulfilled half of the religion; so let him fear God regarding the remaining half.” [Bayhaqi]

Islam also focuses on piety (Taqwa) — a person’s worth and success in the sight of Allah SWT. it is not based on their marital status. the single person who maintains their chastity and focuses on righteous deeds is honored and rewarded.

for a believer who never married, lost a spouse or remained single, Allah SWT may grant them a spouse in Paradise as a reward for their patience and righteousness which is the ultimate eternal pairing.

Shaykh ibn ‘Uthaymeen (may Allah have mercy on him) said:

“If a woman does not marry in this life [i.e. is a spinster], Allah the Exalted will marry her off in Paradise to the one whom she finds delight in. [The Almighty will provide her with a husband who will delight her heart.] Bliss in Paradise is equally for both men and women, and it certainly includes marriage.”

what about the ones who got divorced?

divorce is permissibile in Islam but is the most disliked of the permissible things in the sight of Allah SWT. it is a final resort when reconciliation is impossible.

It was narrated from ‘Abdullah bin ‘Umar that: the Messenger of Allah said: “The most hated of permissible things to Allah is divorce.”

the divine wisdom of “creating you in pairs” is still upheld even after divorce. both individuals are free to seek a new and righteous spouse to reaffirm the principle of male-female pairing as the foundation of a new relationship.

besides, the Qur’an gives clear instructions for treating a spouse kindly even during divorce [Qur’an 2:231]; emphasises that the relationship should end justly and honourably.

buy me a coffee :)

what about the ones who got married the wrong ones?

marriage is a test — Ibtila’; a test from Allah SWT (God) designed to see how a person responds to hardship and ease. It is meant to purify the heart and strengthen faith. a “wrong” spouse may be a test of patience, forbearance and reliance on Allah SWT. The Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) taught that marriage should be based on four things, and the best is piety (religion/religious commitment).

Narrated by Abu Huraira:

The Prophet (ﷺ) said, “A woman is married for four things, i.e., her wealth, her family status, her beauty and her religion. So you should marry the religious woman (otherwise) you will be a loser.

both spouses are commanded to treat each other with kindness — Ma‘rūf; (kindness, equity, or fairness) in Islamic teachings on marriage is a mutual obligation that extends to both spouses.

if the relationship is difficult, the initial Islamic guidance is to strive for reconciliation and improvement.

Islam further elevates women by guaranteeing their independent financial status. the Mahr (dowry) is the sole property of the wife. she is free to earn, own and manage her wealth without any obligation to spend it on the household which is the husband’s duty. this establishes a foundational level of financial dignity and independence within the ‘pairing’.

if reconciliation fails, Islam provides mechanisms like counselling, arbitration and finally divorce to ensure a path to separate if the pairing is no longer fulfilling its divine purposes of tranquillity and mutual growth.

crucially, Islam grants a woman the right to dissolve an unbearable marriage through Khula’; the right to seek divorce from her husband, often by returning the dowry, ensuring that she is not trapped in an oppressive or unhappy ‘pairing’.

what about the ones who have multiple wives?

polygyny; a man marrying up to four wives — is permissible but strictly limited by the Qur’an. the permission is tied to the condition of justice among the wives specifically in terms of spending, lodging and time.

while polygyny is allowed, the ideal and fundamental unit remains the pair. in a polygynous family, the man maintains multiple individual marital bonds that require justice and equity from him.

aside from that, scholars acknowledge that a man cannot be perfectly just in his emotional inclination (love) towards his wives and the Qur’an addresses this:

this verse states that while it’s impossible for a person to be perfectly equal in feeling between multiple wives, they should not completely favor one to the neglect of the other. the verse advises against showing such favoritism, which can leave the neglected wife in suspense. it also emphasizes that if a husband is just and fears Allah, then any shortcomings in fairness will be forgiven.

having navigated these challenging questions, we see that the divine declaration “And we created you in pairs.” [Qur’an 78:8] remains fundamentally intact. it is not a rigid guarantee of a perfect spouse in dunya but rather a universal truth about the complementary nature of creation.

whether one finds their ultimate pair in a loving marriage or patiently awaits their eternal pairing in paradise, or honourably exits one relationship to seek a new one, the foundational truth is that Allah SWT has decreed fairness, dignity and a path towards peace (Sakinah) for all believers.

the verse, in its ultimate wisdom, assures us that we are never truly alone and that the purpose of the pairing is always to lead us to reflection and to a higher relationship with the Creator.

buy me a coffee !!

thank you so much for reading! feel free to correct me if i’m wrong, in the comments or through a personal message :)

sure okay. ‘everyone can write’.

but can you pour your soul into your writing? can you translate your messy complex emotions into words that actually make someone feel something? can you narrate a story that makes people forget the real world for a moment? can you build metaphors that hold actual meaning and not just sound aesthetic or the sake of sounding smart?

can you?

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people think writing is a joke because they’ve never read something that hits them so deeply it makes them stop and wonder what kind of storm was happening in the author’s mind.

writing isn’t just throwing words or sentences onto a piece of paper or typing into microsoft word. writing is baring your heart and letting people read the parts of you that you don’t even know how to say out loud. it’s like taking something invisible, emotional, fragile and making it real enough for others to feel it too.

sure AI can replicate our work. and yeah it is undeniable that a lot of us use AI to write sometimes. but a human mind and AI’s aren’t the same. our brains are limitless, unpredictable and full of feelings we don’t even know how to name. we imagine things that don’t exist yet.

AI can generate words but we create meaning.

that’s the difference. nothing can compete with a human mind.

that is what makes writing magical. we take our heartbreaks, fears, memories, little private thunderstorms and turn them into something someone else can hold. writing is a proof that we existed and that we felt something. that’s how special humans are.

buy me a coffee :)

i find this the raw reality of waking up each day to world that pulls you in opposite directions. on one hand, it is promised of the endless possibilities. example — social media feeds buzzing with success stories of influencers chasing their dreams and apps that promise to connect us all. on the other hand, there is the weight of a university student’s stress and the nagging doubt that no matter how hard you try in life, it doesn’t unfold in neat resolutions.

i remember sitting in my dorm last semester, scrolling through my friend’s post travelling the world while i stared at a pile of unfinished assignments and wondered if i’d ever catch up. hmm.

this contradiction is in fact everywhere in our modern world and not just a personal issue to me. we often preach self care and mindfulness yet we’re glued to the screens that amplify anxiety and comparison. we talk about equality and justice but the systemic inequalities keep widening the gaps.

as someone still figuring out who i am, balancing my late night study sessions with fleeting moments of joy with my university friends, in the same time questioning my choices while chasing vague ambitions, i feel this tension deeply. it’s logical too that life doesn’t revolve like a math problem you solve in classes. it thrives in the push and pull, the yes and no and the hope and despair. and that’s what makes it relatable of how this lived mess we’re all navigating together.

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from here, i want to unpack how these contradictions shape us.

take a normal day in my life as a uni student chasing a degree. i wake up early for my subuh prayer, around 6 to 6.15 a.m. in my dorm room. my phone’s notifications are piling up. on one side it’s really exciting where i see my friends posting about fun weekends like hiking trips or driving a go cart. it makes me think “maybe i can do that too after i graduate.” but on the other side, i scroll and see ads for fancy clothes and makeups i can’t afford. my student allowance could never cover those. it’s a contradiction where the world online promises freedom and success but real life feels stuck and heavy.

think about how social media shapes everyone. we all see perfect lives online but behind the screen people are always dealing with the same mess. for example, climate change is a big one right now. news shows pictures of melting ice and wildfires making us feel scared and worried. we know we should recycle or use less plastic but then we order food in a box or drive to class because it’s easy. in lectures, my lecturer talks about saving the planet and i want to help. but then i rush to the coffee shop in my faculty building to study and grab a cheap coffee in a plastic cup. means, i forgot about how i wanted to “help”. we seemingly care about the future but daily habits pull us the other way. the contradiction makes us tired as if we’re fighting with ourselves and we didn’t even notice it.

money is another thing that really hits home for university students like me. we’re told to study hard and get a good job, but the cost of living keeps rising. i work part time during every semester break so i can spend the money on my wish list, but it cuts into my rest and hangout time after all those late nights and long study hours over a 14-week semester.

sometimes i skip hanging out with friends because i want to focus on my assignments. it feels lonely but i know i need good grades for my degree. everyone feels this in some way whether you’re a student, a parent, or someone working. we all dream of a stable life but bills and doubts make it hard. it’s relatable because we’ve all had that moment of choosing between fun now and planning for later.

i like to believe that these contradictions shape us and teach us how to balance hope with reality. for me it’s all about the small steps. i try to log off social media sometimes and talk to friends in person. i prefer taking public transport instead of driving. i pick up litter whenever i see one. of course it doesn’t fix everything but it makes the mess feel a little lighter.

in the end, living as a contradiction means we’re all in this together and still searching for meaning. life’s that simple. learning to live with the pieces of the unsolved puzzle. (my lecturer said this to me, and now i’m using it for my substack post #inspirational.)

buy me a coffee please

even so, i still find myself itching to know her updates. like how she’s doing, what she’s up to — even after what happened between us. and i can’t just blame her because i was in the wrong too. i didn’t know how to comfort her, i didn’t use the right words when she was ranting to me, and especially, i didn’t know how to carefully handle someone who was struggling with their mental health. and i’m so sorry to myself for not knowing how to do it better. i tried my best honestly but since i’m writing this, you can tell i failed.

people always say that if someone cares too much or is so nosy about a person they’re no longer talking to, it’s because they’re obsessed and unable to move on. but i wouldn’t say i’m obsessed. i mean why would i be? and i do believe that i’ve definitely moved on a long time ago. i’ve forgiven and i’ve forgotten. and i really don’t care that it happened anymore. if we could try again as friends one more time… i wouldn’t hesitate to let it happen. i would be so glad and excited actually.

what i want to convince you of is that this feeling of curiosity about her current state isn’t obsession or the inability to move on, i want to say that it’s care. i still care for her as someone who used to stick with me all the time. it’s not easy to just let go of someone you’ve been close with, someone who’s been there through multiple stages of your life. at least for me, it’s like that. she used to tell me that she wants me as her bridesmaid one day when she gets married. thinking of that just makes me upset. now i can no longer be her bridesmaid, screaming excitedly and jumping while holding her hand on her wedding day. :/

it’s not even like i want to know her updates to belittle her or think badly of her. all i want to do is congratulate her for her small and big achievements, wish her happy birthday, all the minor things we do when we’re no longer close with someone.

but how is that possible when we’re not in contact by number or on any social media platforms anymore?

and you might be thinking that maybe i should’ve been better or done more, or said the right things. but i was young, still learning, doing my best with what little i knew back then. to be a good person doesn’t mean i need to have a perfect friendship all the time. i’m just a human after all, trying to figure out as i go. and the fact that i can look back now with compassion for both her and myself means i’ve grown from it. that has to count for something right?

hi friends, i know i havent been writing for such a long time :( huhu i lost motivation and it was hard for me to get back on it. but i’m happy that i’m writing again now even if it’s short and personal. hope everyone is having a good day!!!!

buy me a coffeeeee

it all started a month ago, when i joined an organisation that helps underprivileged kids. for as long as i can remember, i have always wanted to do meaningful and charitable work. when they told me i was accepted as a projects and events officer, i couldn’t even find the right words to describe the feeling. it was more than thrill, more than excitement. it was a sense that i am finally being in the right place, and doing the right thing.

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on saturday, i walked into an indian orphanage, along with my team. i would be lying if i said i wasn’t nervous. i’m malay, and i haven’t spent much time around indians as much as i’ve done with malays and chinese. back at school, the only indians were boys, and i never really gave them a second thought. now, my university is exclusive to those of indigenous malay origin, so there were hardly any indians there either.

i showed up with my three teammates from my department, while the others got there on their own. we got out of the car, carrying all the stuff for the games and the groceries we brought for donation. we hadn’t even made it inside yet when the kids came running out, ready to help us carry everything. i tried to resist saying “no, it’s okay, this is heavy,” but oh well, they were stronger than i expected.

the first thing i noticed about these kids was how helpful and disciplined they were. we had a lot in our hands, and they all rushed to help and even offered us a place to sit while we waited for our other teammates. they were also very talkative and friendly, which made it incredibly easy for us to mingle with them.

everyone arrived soon after, and we started the event. i won’t get into the itinerary or the games we played. i’m writing this to express my thoughts and feelings about the whole event, and what i truly think of these kids.

as a malaysian, it’s common to see different races in this country. it has been that way for as long as i can remember. but do we truly accept each other? i’d have to say yes and no. especially now, when cyberbullying feels like an everyday chore, it’s common to see people throwing racist comments and jokes at one another. and this can create a real divide. but at that orphanage, seeing the way my teammates mingle with those children, i saw none of that. their world was about shared laughter, a helping hand, and a simple kindness that transcended everything else. it was a quiet reminder that what we have in common is so much bigger than what sets us apart.

even my teammates and i are divided by race and religion. and i think the unity we share is what makes us a great team. it’s a beautiful thing, how we all got so comfortable with each other so quickly, and that includes the kids as well. it was actually our first time meeting in person too, between me and the team. before that day, we only ever spoke through a screen, planning and discussing everything. to finally see them face to face was something else entirely. it was a thrilling moment of connection. and i enjoyed it.

back at it, looking at each one of the kids’ faces, i wished i could read their backstory. how they got there, what happened and so on. i would be lying if i say i wasn’t curious. but i’m also a person with discipline. it would be uncomfortable to suddenly ask those kinds of questions to kids i had just met.

and that brings me back to this thought; everyone has their own book, with different chapters and stories unfolding. we are all the main characters in our own stories. some may not be as tragic as others but can be more challenging. some may not be as joyful as others but are rather silently lucky.

this is what i understood from the kids. they were the authors of their own stories. no matter what their past chapters held, in that moment, in that house, they were writing new ones. ones filled with laughter, games, and the simple joy of sharing a moment with strangers. they didn’t ask for pity, they didn’t carry their past like a heavy weight. they simply welcomed us into their present, and reminded me that every person’s book is still being written. and that, in itself, is such a beautiful thing.

the kids were also incredibly disciplined and independent, which earned all of my respect. the older ones took care of the younger ones so well, it was as if they were bonded by blood. and the younger ones, in return, relied on the older ones so comfortably.

there was a moment after an activity centered around drawing and art. when we were finished, i offered to sweep the floor. but the girls from the house wouldn’t let me. they kept trying to pull the broom away from my hand. i insisted, telling them they should go and have fun and let me do it. but they insisted too, saying it was their duty to keep the house clean. in that moment, i thought to myself, how wonderful and reliable these kids are. such beautiful souls.

what a privilege it is to be a person who gets to offer to sweep the floor. to be in a position where keeping things clean is a kind gesture, not a chore or a duty. these children, who have so little, understood responsibility in a way i, who have so much, had never truly considered. they didn’t see the work as something to be avoided, but as a part of their daily life, a way to show they cared for their home and for each other. it was actually a humbling moment for me. a reminder for me that true wealth isn’t about what you have, but about how you carry yourself.

we also got pizza for lunch for the kids. it melted my heart seeing how happy and grateful they were about the food. they all sat down in one big circle together and began their own prayer before eating. it really reminded me of my own time in boarding school. but the difference is, for me, being in boarding school was a choice. it was a place i went to get an education and a purpose that my family and i had decided on. for them, this house isn’t just a school, it’s a home. it’s the place that offers them safety, community, and a family that isn’t bound by blood, but by circumstance and love. and seeing them pray, full of gratitude for a simple meal, i realized that they have found a kind of wealth that a boarding school could never teach.

they are grateful not for the things they have, but for the life they have. it’s such a humbling gratitude that you can see in their eyes and in their easy laughter. it’s a grace that makes you feel a little less human, and a little more like you’re in the presence of something sacred. that simple moment with the pizza, in that big circle, was more than just lunch, it was a lesson. in what it truly means to be grateful for the small things, a lesson i will carry with me forever.

this experience with the kids and my team was more than just a volunteer event. it was a lesson in humanity. i went there thinking i was going to give something to those kids, but i left with so much more. they gave me a new perspective, a sense of deep gratitude and a belief that even in a world full of noise and division, there are places where pure kindness and unity still exist. i went in as a stranger, and left as someone who felt a little more whole, a little more connected to a world i had only seen through a screen. and i will forever be grateful for that.

it would be wonderful if you could consider supporting us. your donations will directly help us prepare for the upcoming events and reach more children in need. every contribution helps us provide a little more happiness and a little more hope to these beautiful souls. just click this button down here! :) or you can contact us on our instagram @hope2kids to make a donation straight into our bank account.

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i’m so tired. i want to quit everything. i want to run away and disappear from everyone, disappear from this world. i’m so lonely. i feel like a burden when i think about reaching out to people. i’m tired of turning my sadness and misery into jokes. i’m tired of people assuming i never go through anything just because of how cheerful i seem.

there are times when i feel so invisible, even while being the most visible person in the crowd. but i cannot blame people for not seeing through me. perhaps some faces are easier to look at than to look into.

but more than that, i’m tired of being independent. people call it a good thing but it’s exhausting to carry it alone. i wish i could lean on someone for once. not for everything, just for the things that are too heavy for me to carry by myself. i don’t want to handle it all myself anymore. it’s tiring.

and as much as i’m grateful for all the “i know you can do it”, “you’re capable of this”, i wish it could stop. encouragement feels like another task for me to live up to. i’m glad people think i’m reliable, but it makes the silence heavier when i’m the one who needs help. it’s strange how people only see strength when they’re too far to notice the cracks.

but if i ask for help, it feels like people will lose hope in me. they’ll think i’m not good enough, or that i’m lazy. i’m not going anywhere in life. i’m not. i just want to carry the weight with another pair of hands instead of mine alone.

sometimes i think this is why people disappear without warning. not because they’ve stopped caring, or because they’re selfish or trying to be a burden to others, but because they’ve run out of ways to be seen. you can stand in the middle of a crowded room and still not be noticed, not in the way you need and want to be noticed as. and that is why i feel so lonely. and loneliness is so cruel. this loneliness i felt is not because the absence of people but instead, it’s the absence of understanding.

i’ve learned that most of the world prefers you in your finished form, like a painting they can admire without worrying about how much of the canvas was torn before it was whole. they want you to be resilient, but they want it to look effortless. they don’t want to watch the work it takes to hold yourself together. and so you hide the work. you hide the hands that was shaking when no one’s looking.

i’m sorry i did not expect growing up would make me feel this lonely. sorry i did not know that soon enough, i do not want to be that very independent daughter.

i’m so tired. i’m so lonely. i don’t belong. i want to disappear.

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i remember the patterns of the veins on your hand. i remember the exact placement of the two moles on your medium-dark face, which had a scatter of small freckles across your cheeks and nose. i remember how your whisker dimples would subtly appear on your cheeks every time you smiled, laughed, or chewed on food. i remember how your ears would turn red every time you were shy or flattered. i remember how your pupils grew whenever you were excited.

how am i supposed to address you as a stranger when i remember everything?

i remember how you’d pinch at your chin every time you were nervous. i remember how you’d shift the weight of your foot from side to side, slowly like a rocking motion, when you were thinking deeply or trying to figure something out. i remember how you’d drum your fingers on your lap when you were impatient of something. i remember how you’d tilt your head in the same direction as the game character on screen whenever they were about to make a difficult jump or land a precise shot.

how am i supposed to pretend i never studied you like scripture? how am i supposed to pretend i didn’t trace your habits like constellations, like those glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling i used to fall asleep under?

i still flinch when i hear a voice like yours in a crowd.

except it’s never you. it’s always someone else with the same pitch.

and it hurts in a way i don’t really have the words for.

the memory of you, of us, plays tricks on me. like it wants me to run back to you. like it’s whispering to me, ‘remember how it felt to be sure of someone.’

where are you?

i’m grieving for the memory of us. i tell myself i don’t care about you anymore. but what if i actually do?

i wish we could relive every single moment we shared. i’m mourning the version of you that only existed in the minutes we were real.

how am i supposed to call you a stranger when knowing you felt like something ancient, like i had lived beside you for a hundred years?

it felt like you were living under my skin and now i can’t peel you off without bleeding too much. i can’t peel you off without losing parts of myself too.

if i try to remove you, i wouldn’t just be letting go of you. instead, i’d be letting go of me.

side note: i didn’t write this in memory of anyone lol. i’ve just consumed too many tragic love stories to be able to write like this.

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the sky was grey, as if it were upset, and there was a girl sitting on a bench at the train station staring at it, wondering how wonderful it would be if she could speak to nature.

as the train arrived, she rose at once and walked briskly, searching for a seat far from others. finding a place where she could be alone with her thoughts and quietly drown in that day’s melancholy.

looking at the strangers around her, a wave of sonder washed over her. an aching realization that each passerby carried within them their own story, their own ambitions, passions, routines, regrets… entire worlds she would never come to know.

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just when the girl thought she was truly going through it with life, she saw a blind woman step into the train, slowly. her hair was nearly white, her face gently wrinkled. she was wearing a yellow floral dress that stopped just above the ankle, sandals worn thin, as if they’d carried her through the longest walk of her life. in one hand, there was a rattan bag slightly frayed at the edge.

the girl’s eyes followed her, fixed. ‘poor her’, she thought.

was this the life she wanted? is this what it came down to? was she supposed to feel pity? or was it a kind of projection of her own fear of the future?

then, just as the train doors began to close, a man stepped in. he looked healthy and extremely put together. a pale blue shirt tucked into black slacks, maybe just off work. on his laptop bag hung a small, heart-shaped keychain that was designed to look broken in half. she assumed he was matching it with somebody, obviously.

at the next stop, the man and the girl both got off.

as they crossed the platform, she noticed him reach for the keychain. without a pause, he yanked it off and tossed it into the dustbin beside the stairs. he did it without hesitation.

and just like that, her thoughts began to spiral with that strange softness that comes when you realize how little you know about others.

that girl, the girl, a girl.

it was me. i’m the girl. i’m the wondering girl.

anyway, what an eccentric concept, sonder. you spend so much of your life thinking you’re the one watching and the one quietly studying others. you think your sadness is private and invisible. you sit by the window and look out at the world moving, convinced no one is looking back.

but what if you’re wrong?

what if someone once passed you on a rainy street and remembered the way your mascara melted beneath your eyes after just a few drops of rain?

what if someone on a train once wondered what kind of sorrow made your eyes look so far away?

what if, without acknowledging or noticing anything, you were the ache in someone else’s chest? you were that fleeting unexplainable melancholy that haunted them for days, maybe weeks, maybe months, or worse, years?

what if you are the sonder?

when you’re not the observer, but the observed. you’re a side character in someone else’s breakdown. a background passerby character in their own coming of age story.

now that’s the craziest part to wonder about. we’re all just echoes in each other’s lives. until one gesture, one glance or one discarded keychain becomes the thing they can’t shake off their head.

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last night, i was hanging out with my friends until one of them brought up relationships. they were all sharing stories about their past relationships and then it was my turn. well, they all know i don’t have a past relationship so i couldn’t really relate. until then one of them said, “it’s easier to find one on dating apps.” i lifted my right hand like a stop sign and said in a jokingly sassy tone, “tch, ew no i don’t do dating.”

to be fair, i’m not really the kind of person who desperately seeks out relationships or love. well sometimes i am lol. (guys ngl i’m a sucker for romance and i’m such a hopeless romantic) but most of the time i just wait for the moment someone approaches me first, or the rare time i make the first move. which to be honest, happened only once and i failed miserably.

but what i’m trying to point out here is that i genuinely couldn’t put myself in a dating app situation. you will never see me on one. i just don’t see a real, grounded purpose in it.

impartially speaking, first of all, i’m a muslim. so obviously any kind of romantic relationship outside of marriage is already off limits. that alone is a solid reason for me not to be on dating apps. and even if i were to date another muslim guy, the idea of him scrolling through thousands of girls’ photos on an app? that’s kind of off-putting... phew! i don’t know. it feels misaligned.

plus, if i want a man who can truly guide me in my deen… why would i expect to find one on a dating app? a real muslim man who understands the religion wouldn’t be there swiping through girls’ pictures just for fun. someone who truly lives by islam would know better. he’d carry himself with purpose. and that kind of behavior just doesn’t align.

i’m not a saint myself, i know that. i’ve got flaws and weak spots just like anyone else. i’m trying my best too. but if i’m going to love someone, it has to be someone who reminds me of jannah. i want someone who can help me grow into a better muslim. someone who can help guide me to jannah, not pull me further away from it. and of course that means i have to be that kind of person too.

Narrated Abu Huraira: The Prophet ﷺ said, “A woman is married for four things, ie, her wealth, her family status, her beauty and her religion. So you should marry the religious woman (otherwise) you will be a loser.”

Sahih al-Bukhari 5090 (Book 67, Hadith 28)

second, the whole structure of dating apps just doesn’t sit right with me. like people having multiple matches, a bunch of dms, talking to five or six people at once. that’s just not my thing. i don’t want to sound like those dramatic or annoying people but i’ve always been weirdly loyal to my crushes so the idea of messaging multiple guys and trying to get to know them all at once just feels wrong to me. and worse is knowing that they’re probably texting other girls at the same time too. call me jealous or whatever but i just expect someone who thinks like me.

i have a friend who religiously uses dating apps. she’s got like three of them on her phone. and from what i’ve seen and heard from her stories, most men on there aren’t really looking for a genuine relationship. it’s mostly just sexual stuff. and not just her, i’ve heard the same from other people and seen enough online to know it’s kind of the norm. and well… that’s nasty as hell! so nope. you will not catch me on a dating app.

muslim or not, religious or not, whatever the race or background, if someone can’t control their sexual desires, then none of that makes a difference.

to think there are so many muslim men out there who can’t control their sexual desires honestly terrifies me. i’ve seen way too many stories online and heard from people around me about guys who seem so normal, who pray five times a day, but still mess around with other girls. some of them cheat on their wives, some pressure their girlfriends into doing things with them. i even witnessed a guy who had a girlfriend but was messing around with another guy behind her back. crazy and wild af. i’m so scared of this world nowadays. even scared of men, actually.

but of course, i’m not saying it’s all on men. women can be just as reckless too. that’s just how the world is. people are messed up. i’m just explaining why, for me, dating apps will never feel like a safe or meaningful place to find love.

from everything i’ve seen, it’s clear that the way dating apps are used (or misused), can really shift the way people view love. it changes what we expect, what we accept, and how we define connection.

but for me, i believe that love should feel safe, pure and genuine. it should be sincere and not forced. also the most important part is probably connection and chemistry. how much one person makes sense for another. love should be built on mutual respect. nothing less.

and lastly, i totally don’t have anything against people who use dating apps, as long as it’s not for weird or creepy reasons. but i would also like to point out that if you’re a muslim, please don’t encourage yourself in seeking love on dating apps. there’s thousands of other options out there, and just because you choose the easy one doesn’t mean it’s the best. this post is just me stating the reasons why it personally doesn’t sit right with me, and why it’s something i choose to stay away from. that’s all. :)

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life is so full of love. as much as love is everywhere in life.

i believe in love because i am surrounded by the most loving people ever.

i believe in love because i am the love itself.

because my best friends hold my hand when we cross the street.

because my best friends help peel shrimps for me.

because my best friends feed me food like taking care of a child.

because my best friends laugh at the silliest jokes i make.

because my best friends say “i love you” like it’s normal as breathing.

because my best friends pay attention to all the things i’m excited to talk about.

because my best friends points out the most unexpected beauty they see in me in the most random times.

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without realizing, my girl friends have set the standard high.

because how am i supposed to be impressed by a man;

who doesn’t notice when i go quiet mid-conversation?

who doesn’t send me a picture of cute and funky patterned socks because he knows i have a whole collection of them?

who doesn’t remember i hate pineapples on pizza?

who doesn’t text me the second he sees anything related to Penguins of Madgascar?

i’ve already been loved like this;

like food shoved into my mouth mid-rant.

like her sending me a tiktok that just says “this reminded me of you.”

like how she’ll threaten violence on anyone who’s ever made me sad.

like telling me to pose randomly so she can take my picture.

like long debates over who would die first in a zombie apocalypse.

like fixing my hijab gently just so i could look more presentable.

you’d probably think, “any guy could do that.”

but so what? i don’t care about what they do.

it’s about how genuine and sincere these girls are. it’s the fact that my friends mean it and it’s not performative. and i feel it. i feel the love and appreciation i’m receiving. that’s what makes it different. (i love my girl friends so much i would walk through the seven seas and fight a fire breathing dragon for them, literally!!!)

i don’t think people talk enough about how good it is to be a girl.

to say “you’re beautiful” to your friend and mean it with your whole chest. to fall in love with each other (platonically) a little more every day, just from existing. from sharing snacks to sharing secrets. to look at another girl and think, “thank god you exist in this world with me.”

i feel so lucky to be a woman. to be able to befriend women, to be understood without having to explain everything. to be seen, exactly as i am.

it’s honestly impossible to explain how magical girlhood is.

because there’s like this emotional telepathy between us. you know, there’s the emergency situations (read: suddenly getting your period and sprinting to the public bathroom together), there’s falling asleep on each other’s shoulder on public transport, and also fully knowing which friend would help you hide a body and which one would cry too much and make it worse. but loving them both equally anyway. :)

the most fun part is how we’ll say the same sentence at the same time and immediately go, “omg we’re soulmates.” and everyone around us just agrees.

we’ll say things like “let’s get married” when we relate to something in the exact same way and somehow that feels like the highest form of commitment.

and it’s kind of hilarious to me when two guys wrap their arms around each other in a group photo, everyone goes “these two homies are in love” and they can get weirdly defensive. like woah okay chill. lol, just a funny observation.

being affectionate is cool. being dramatic and expressive is cool. being full of love is cool. being a woman itself is unique.

i’m unique. and so are you.

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i just turned 20 this year in june.

to be frank, never thought i’d live to this age. sounds dramatic but no, not because i was suicidal or anything, i just thought 20 was too far away. like the world would’ve ended by then.

silly me.

i genuinely believed i’d be dead before i graduated high school because god, high school felt eternal. like some never ending situation i couldn’t escape from. i was so sure it would drag on forever. lol!

but look at me now, 20 and still breathing. turns out, time does pass especially when you’re too careless to notice it sneaking by.

i used to think 20 was this huge age. like i’d need to have my whole life sorted out by then. my career, romance, skincare routine and maybe even a memoir on the way. but now i’m 20 and still trolling kids on roblox.

when i was 7, i actually thought 12 was peak maturity. like yes that’s when i’ll finally be tall, hit puberty, be terrifying and commanding enough for the whole school to bow down to me. well newsflash! 12 year old me was collecting my little pony cards and selling yarn bracelets with hideous colour combination to my friends.

when i was 13, i thought 16 or 17 was the golden age. i’d be a senior in high school and that’s literally everybody’s dream. i’d get to eat lunch outside the canteen, teachers wouldn’t bother me anymore, seniors wouldn’t bully me anymore. i’d be handling school programs and events like a boss. and my stupid ass really thought i’d have multiple boyfriends probably PFFTTT just like my seniors switching boyfriends between their own friend group like it’s nothing lol.

damn now looking back… what was i thinking…

and then came 17. and somehow i believed 20 was THE age. the age where i’d finally truly have it all: tall hot boyfriend (standard), overflowing bank account, a driver’s license, and a fun university life like in the movies. i genuinely thought i’d be living some Legally Blonde or Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo type of life. ohhhhh i’m so silly. what i got instead is an empty wallet and hair fall from assignment stress. yeay!

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but here’s the thing no one warns you about — how fast everything goes. how everything that felt like it would last forever just ends on a random day. and you don’t even realize it until you’re already standing far away from it.

i’ve been thinking about all of the things i left without saying goodbye.

my school. my desk. the chair with a sticker i pasted underneath to mark it as mine. the weird smell of the hallway after it rained. my bed in the dorm with that expired mattress that had probably been used for decades. the shower room i always used. and used to fight over with my friends and the other girls on our floor just to get there first. the surau (prayer hall) that witnessed so many things. the school hall where we sat for seminars, exams, programs, assembly. the open space between the two female dorm blocks where we gathered for roll call at 12am.

i thought i’d be back the next day. i never was.

there are so many places and moments i walked away from like they’d still be there waiting for me. and now they only exist as blurry little fragments in my head.

i wish i could remember them all forever. the way my friend laughed when she snorted by accident, the sound of my teacher’s voice when she read out our names, the exact shade of the classroom walls, that one crack on the whiteboard.

but memory is cruel. it forgets what you beg to keep.

i didn’t know i was making memories. i thought i was just trying to get through the day.

and now, every once in a while, something random brings me back — an old song, a smell, the way someone says a word that sparks a memory that feels like it just happened yesterday. and for a split second, i’m 16 again, sitting on that plastic chair, doodling on my exam paper, thinking, “i can’t wait to grow up.”

oh girl, you had no idea.

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