Thursday, September 6, 2012


When its back to reality, nothing is similarly to your time. Big difference,
dictators surrounds me and we lived in such a full lie world. They are hiding the truth from us. They took our faces and shows what you need to see, but not what you need to know.

Some people says,"Hey, what is so good to be in your side?" We can't even say a word about that. Because we are all covered with lies. And some of them saying,"What's the use of them?, while we lived such in a social life. They can't socialize freely, they can't even get closed to boys and girls." They said we were born to form a terrorism, they accused us from the falling of the twins, they make them like us, the magical mirror they shown to public reflects directly to us.

Oh lord, will you wake us all? 
Are we the chosen that who has to feel what is Armageddons like? We did what you have told us, but WHY US WHY? On top of that, we were badly criticize to the eye of the world, we were forced to be mean, we all are framed by the medias and shows the globe  what we aren't. Before the end of the day, we will regain what are lost and left. We will get the chance to increase the faith in him and his messenger. And finally we will leave from this day, left nothing even the ashes.

Finally, to the light or to the fire we will be precisely judged, good deeds will reclaims his or her good deeds, and bad doers will perish.

Someday, I'll be going there too, whether i know it or not. We are all will be going there, we are all will going to be judge, and we are all going to be in peace.


Tuesday, September 4, 2012


Rains. Remembers me of my childhood.

We were playing football at our village field, with my cousins there was Irfan and his brother Ihsan, Danial and Wafi. During that time, we played so hard and suddenly rain stopped by pouring the dried field, we were wet and soaked with sweat. We head home. Sloppy, wet, soaked with muds covers on our feet, plus there are birds flying in the sky singing happily in the pouring rain. 

On our way home, we crossed a handmade bridge crossing the small water line made out of wood, it was squeaking when feet touches it. Below the squeaking bridge there are small fish swimming gracefully, the droplet of pouring rain, a clicking sound of droplet are heard. We head home as fast as we could before our moms gets worried, happily when we reached home, our dads bought a bunch of “putu halba”. The putu halba are warm, juicy and steamy and it is so great with warm teas, enjoying the rain moment, thunders clapping here and there. Coconut husk, and brown sugar, is the best combination with “putu halba”, it was a cold day during the rain.

We sat and chat and laughing.We played eating games during the rain, we played hide and seek during the rain, we played saidina during the rain, ohh how I missed them. There is nothing like a good, happy and non-conflict family was. I missed every second of my childhood. Rain, it means everything to me. every time it comes, recalls me of them. Every clap! every flash! There are memories in them. If you hear what I hear, if you see what I see, if you feel what I feel.

And now, they are all gone. Gone diminished by construction! Gone bit by bit! Tall towers rising into the sky!! The cold went cool, the cool goes to warm, and the warm turns to hot! Greens are bleached to the hands of the irresponsibility!! No man wants its childhoods been crushed, no man wants his playground to be squeezed, and no man wants his grandchild sees the replica of the original! 

And finally it ends with highly technologies structures, global warming here and there, flash floods, stormy winds, IRRESPONSIBLE!!