Friday, 21 February 2014

The wind

The wind. It shakes the trees, but they dance instead.

The vigorous period of my life was tremendously pain-bearing. Although I’ve realised now that it was one of the great gift from Allah -since I’ve gained so many things from it, alhamd- I have to admit that it is none of any wonderful feeling that I am fond of reminiscing.  

I've learnt so much things, gain insights, shift my paradigm, change on how I see life; and not to far-fetched to say that it has brought me to redefine myself, redefine my life and even my dreams; even though it was one of the most violence transition phase of my life.

I can’t really compute the formulae of all these programmes that Allah has set for me. How it works and which has worked to reshape me, remain unthinkable. But all in all, i know whatever I had been through was my own granted prayer. I did once –or maybe several times- prayed that Allah would give me wisdom in life, because I admire so many figures that, all these people are great people because the hardship they had gone through. And i realise that wisdom is something we attain only through vigorous experiences.

Those moments I had gone through had shaken my roots that had held me long, trembled my spines, shivered my body, clouded my mind with uncertainty and violated my right for peace and happiness. Throughout the period, I felt as if my heart was ripped off me. And even though it wasnt ripped off, I wished I wished it could have been.

It was my heart I was having hard time dealing with. My heart, it kept burning with madness inside. It ached me. Sickened me too. I kept having to soothen my heart. Kept needing to hold the pain inside. On the bed, frequently i would curl into a ball. Weeping almost every night, although as time passed I would only howl once a week. Cried in every prayer. Always needed  space to be  alone, to confront the feeling, the fear, the uncertainty, the sadness, the shame, the dissapointment. The confusion.

The feeling was just too much to bear. Too strong to hold against.
And as if had been forever waiting, I chanted much often : My Lord please heal me. I want to let go of the past. 

A few weeks ago, I went to visit kmb. I went for a voluntary work to sell stuff. That was just the tiny reason why I went there. But basically i went there and do everything i want ( like running through out the field and laying down), meet everyone i wish to meet ( akaks, friends, new friends), visit all places in kmb (except the boys’ hostel) and i spent a night there too.

Ive realised that so long before, my heart was never in anywhere else except in kmb. Even though ive never physically visited kmb before, my heart was lost in here. 

I came there, to claim it. To claim my heart back.

And only after that day. I never weep for kmb again. Not also for any of my pain in the past. The scars will remain. But by now i can live accepting the past that I had.

I am finally liberated from the frets.

and the best part of all ,
I find many treasures.

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