ABDILLAH SM : PHOTOGRAPHY - SNAP OF THE DAY 30/12/08

CONGRATULATIONS

ADNAN

PMR 2008

* marching band
* news

ABDILLAH SM - SHORT STORY - PLACEBO

PLACEBO
By Abdillah SM

The flash of nur throbs very softly yet persistent in my brain – regenerates the memories. That’s it. Moment of basirah I had just experienced was apparently true and had been to me perfectly unveiled. True. I was confused for the first time about the warning shadow of death. Syukran. Ana mawujud!

Thanks God. Isn’t a fate until it happens. That I will accept with submission, leaving behind all materialistic; me into the realm of barzah. It wasn’t as I imagined but a fatal experience. Fate thus His knowledge, I am a helpless creature who gotten very minimal understanding to construct a suggestion. Yet now I am beginning to breathe. Receiving again the grace with submission; the blessing of the Almighty, The Creator.

So, what is the meaning of soul, life and might? I turned my head to the left, feeling confused and tiresome but kept on thinking. The doctor who was in my attendance had once whispered to me, whether was he joking while referring about soul showed me his comical expression; all that you have just asked, he said to me, to my opinion is merely a terminology: Energy! He he he he. He laughed out but hiding his pearly white and perfectly profiled teeth. Repugnant was the diagnosis meant I must die within the stipulated time they thought might, based on the experience and the study of man.

Nay! Since the postponement, without hesitation I must grip this opportunity in order to expect challenges in life, in search of signs and knowledge that must I pick. Utilizing the span extension that has His approval. Feeling frozen, with wandering thoughts overflowed I was at a moment being inspired with an advice which sounded like a warning: Read! Read in the name of your God the Most Creative!

That very moment I started to shake and move. Trying it very hard. Dragging away the weary feet to bring about my weakened physic. Syukran! Very carefully, in my mind I ran search for the starting premise that is right and fair so as not to waste even fraction of a second the process of the spiritual disposition. A span extension is fated to me but the articles and clauses unknown. Syukur, ya Allah! Thank you, Allah! Thank you, Allah!

Now, as I touched my head, stretching my neck and brushing my hair with my fingers I realized the heaviness inside – my brain. Dear me! This is the brain. It is a gift from Ilahi. It was invaluable to me. An organ that I had ever witnessed through imaging procedure which was tried on me. Ah! There would be someone asking why the soul which is as mighty a gift seemed me to avoid the understanding. Like it is not as sincere to legitimize my thanks to Ilahi? Forgive, mercy! Forgive, mercy!

I must value all the gifts from Ilahi. But, I had always been reminded the subject soul is totally His knowledge, I am only a simple creature just beginning to wonder. Only recently I tried to relate the question as to whether there is any effect that soul ever existed, in my memory, the brain or elsewhere in my body. And more over, the brain to me alike a black box, safety device in an airplane which records flight statistics. I was that something, I thought – a flying machine about to perform a dramatic yet historical flight into barzah. Oh my!

I believed every statistical information about me is well stored in my memory, the brain. That is it. Anything – that covers moment to moment of my being until a destruction happened; alike the incident that I was about to believe - was my death. But, never was the recording started when I was just conceived. This one I was told. Such functional could have begun in a very distant time before the realization. The dawn of time might had been it. Before the conception of me in the loving womb of my mother. Yes, might had been that. My being in the metaphysical realm. That’s it! Always present in its own very name, virtual and real – Abdullah!

The truth I must have assuredly accepted the challenge to be realized into the physical – the reality. With a nod and a lafadz. To be a matter – a material. With one’s own submission. Be materialized. So, have I gone through most challenges in this earthy life of mine with mind – the brain supplying thoughts and inspirations to keep up with my existence – purposing to my physical survival. Keeping the amanah a handful. I too always trust as I have been made to trust – every living thing will experience death. A transition that will bring me back to the central. Syukran!

I could understand, the brain contains memories is a faculty of testimony and evident. The information it stores can never be manipulated or even erased, but recorded in the left and the right of the brain. I started to calculate the relevance and the understanding about angels; Atid and Raqid. Atid is supposed to record all the good deeds while Raqid’s the evils. The brain is so destructible just as other organs are. So, till I am extinguished the physical will eventually rot and soon be absorbed into the earth. Curiously me! Where gone the realities of my memories and all the facts ever being stored in the faculty brain?

Syukran! I love You, Allah!

Please accept my love and affection.

I am, your powerless and helpless creature.

And I could be just like a plant,

Alike bacteria,

That could only live in particular environment,

Or could only be anywhere

As long as You permit this life.

Amin!

Waiting restlessly but searching for possibilities, I picked sudden emergence of a notion – the voice and the where about it. The audio, that’s it! The audio! Where had the voices which were produced during my uttering and prayers accumulated? And the visual? Yes, the visual! My appearance? Had it ever been recorded by any virtual lenses. Alike the lenses of cameras. Do they exist? I knew of the present technological advancement is in fact an inspiration. As a result of human intelligence that studies and learns the world surrounds them. Then, it is not comical to suggest there might have been virtual lens hiding somewhere since time immemorial – the lens of the universe. It was my joke always, anyway. Ah! Sure enough it had recorded my existence; audio-visual-aroma. Why the aroma? Had we a camera that captures aroma?

I have known that my heart is a biological pump, endeavouringly bringing the oxygen to the brain so will it help the grey matter to breathe and throb. Now, because of the prosperity of my brain that generates anew my enthusiasm, living again seems to be a kind of new beauty and excitements in its fullness compared to yesterdays.

Thank you, Ya Allah. Thank you, Allah. Terima kasih, Allah. Amin! Amin! Amin! While tracing softly my beard that has becoming more grey, I noticed my chest being attacked with virtual bullets. Yes, they are bullets in my chest. It’s painful, but no pain. Ibuuuuuuuuu. I was crying. Tears ran down my cheeks warm and salty. It’s not the pain that I struggled and lamenting. My mother. I haven’t seen her for so many years. A decade? Two? No! I can’t recall. I think its three plus decades. Reflecting you mum is pain and no pain. Both is happiness to me.

No pain but, it’s painful. Eventually so, emerging slowly in my mind the meaning of love and hatred within the pain and no pain sensations. Speechlessly now. I am being inspired by the feeling of a faraway existence in my inner self, the feeling of another pain within pain with and without fear. Mum, happiness being with you in the reflection.

Sprouting now in my mind various moods of imaginations that is extremely exciting to me since I have forgotten them all the while before. Now, there too is this inspiration – my interest about the surroundings – fresh, fragrance, sparkle and gleam, at certain particular corners gloomy, sad, nostalgic; memories and lust that suddenly stir the restlessness wellspring – central of my orgasm.

It is morning. I gazed attentively appreciating the surrounding which is very calm yet hazy. A beautiful morning. I perceived the objects and their existence but was so muted to name them one by one. Only I fully understood between me and the objects I shared a link – an empathy. I was as talking in the silence. The silence is indeed charming. The empathy that had linked me rushed inherently, as being uploaded to a certain network. Might was it a type of telecommunication – no! It isn’t. It’s telepathic. The source is beginning to supply voltage of normal frequency so my mind is now reading – Ouch! Burned and perished.

No!

Syukran, syukran, syukran. That all are safe. Intact. Syukran! There’s just a kind of fuse been installed.

Assalamualaikum,Ya Rabulalamin.

Assalamulaikum, Ya Rabbi.

Assalamualaikum, Ya Ilahi.

Ana Abdullah.

Ana Abdillah.

Ana Abdallah.

Ana mawujud.

Mawujud, mawujud.

Syukran!

Syukran!

Syukran!

Thank you, Allah!

Thank you, Ilahi, Rabbi!

Amin!

Amin!

Amin!

Translated by

Abdillah SM

ABDILLAH SM : POETRY - THE PLEDGE

the pledge

we the offspring

mother, the nusantara

mystical passion

labour of contraction

caused brilliance

the melayu

fragrance milk of kindness

bosom intimate fraternity

crisped nostalgic glory

moral and dignity

esprit of purity

mind containing

placental ties of the melayu

accompany their wanderings

dispersing fertile seedlings

beautiful jungles the yards

herbs and spices

rhythming waves

originating melayu existence

ocean of struggle

red is the blood

pledge after birth

accept this greeting homage

from hands of legacy

melayu goodwill

bondage nostalgic embrace

love symphony serenades

lamp of the epoch

we, the nusantara offspring

untying knots of the pledge

promises mother swore the universe

history is an obligation, nah!

take the bow shaking trusted hands

tightly, never let to rest

till dissolves

into infinity

ABDILLAH SM - POETRY - MY PET

mYPet

hear people!

here is

a false god!

having lingered

amongst us

decades, generations

thought it is

a good god, but

a reptile

enthroned.

a tugau it is

incarnating into

this millennium

from jungles of

swamps and palms

sneaked snaked

into the society

of urban,

coils friendliness

cunningly designs

maneuver

singing slavery

holding its power

money and scholar

means and mights

to being god

but isn’t enough

making one

just god!

ABDILLAH SM : POETRY - THE RIVER

the river

pedaling the canoe upstream

slippery bank mossy rocks

anchoring restlessness

within the twilight

rhythming the years of nostalgia

towards night ending

never to fade.

oh my!

so old is the river.

flora, fauna and life herbs

chillling air, clear water

atmosphere;

softening sandalwood aroma

burning sticks of incence

floating among the trees

of the river bank

readable

talkable.

ever I passed by it

vaguely though in memory

remembrance always

is faithful

strength is the river

loyalty its commitment.

pedaling the canoe upstream

longing is too acute

to be extinguished.

am awaiting

the ticking

to end

anchoring my physical

into the lake

the source,

river of time.

ABDILLAH SM : POETRY - TRANCE

trance

of euphoria

comes here ecstasy

worn journey

through ages

hopes and failures

lasted at dawn

timeless

light years

airy, watery, earthy

forms a kindness

love and yearning

touching

meaning

essencing

will i to embrace

nothingness

nay!

wretched soul assured

stupefied by the presence

eternal morality

feeling the being

absorbed into

dissolved not without

mercy but passion

being

into

being

course

intercourse

justified,

vindicated.