“Every Muslim is a walking ambassador of Islam.”

This is a link to my writing posted in the FCO Indonesia website last Ramadan. :)


“Every Muslim is a walking ambassador of Islam.”

Happy anniversary my beloved Indonesia...:)

17 August is Indonesia's independence day.

You are now 66! Old for a man (or woman), but pretty young for a nation.
So, I am wishing and praying you and more importantly your people, all the best. :)

Oh, and i noted this year's theme is pretty much related with my dissertation, currently the most fascinating thing in the world. lol. :p

Here's the theme:

"Dengan Semangat Proklamasi 17 Agustus 1945, Kita Tingkatkan Kesadaran Hidup dalam Kebhinnekaan untuk Kokohkan Persatuan NKRI, Kita Sukseskan Kepemimpinan Indonesia dalam Forum ASEAN untuk Kokohkan Solidaritas ASEAN".

translated:

"with the spirit of 17 of August 1945 (independence) proclamation, let's increase our awareness in living in diversity to strengthen the national unity, and let's support Indonesia's leadership in ASEAN to strengthen ASEAN solidarity"

aww yeahh...

and I like how the Indonesian Ambassador for the Great Britain explain this theme in yesterday's flag ceremony.
(yes, i did join the flag ceremony here...)
Now I wonder whether other countries have this so-called flag ceremony thingy...(jangan2 kagak ade sama skaly...wkwkwkw)

*image from: http://indonesi4-ku.blogspot.com/2011/01/naskah-proklamasi-kemerdekaan-ri1945.html

Mum's Advice from Accross the Ocean

It was another Sunday when I had my routine London-Sleman talk. *for those who wants to know where Sleman is please check this link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleman_Regency*

Well, not that routine...actually it was only these recent times I called home every Sunday as I had the exam season approaching and the whole panic and fears were haunting me, sucking my happiness like dementors (halah, lebay...kekekeke). Yeah, that's the time when every kid needs their mum. lol.

I told my mum that there was one ultimate class which was too difficult as it involved calculation and a totally new creature (for me) called statistics. *suddenly I remember now that the statistics teacher actually said "If you don't read Agresti and Finlay before lectures, it's none of my business. You should talk to your mum. (or something sounds like that)" How true it is! lol*

As every Mum will say to her children, my mum told me not to worry too much, just do what you can do, not to forget the five time prayers,to do the extra prayers at night, and of course telling me that she's doing the extra prayers herself for me, her only daughter. *the prophet was totally right for saying that heaven actually lies at your mother's feet* She also reminded me that a superb grades were probably not that super-important right now. :p *my dad later supported my mum by saying for not to stress too much* (well, you see, they're meant for each other :D)

All of he advice and reminders were important, although they are relatively "default" advices that I always received every time I am away from home (which means pretty much all the time, lol). However, her closing remarks somehow made me wonder. She told me to be careful with my words. Well, Mum reminded that being in a foreign land, with completely different culture, different people, different norms suppose to make me more cautious on what I say. That was a real point.

I think I've been ignoring this for quite a while. Being in the "West" make me feel that I can say anything what I want to say. Anything. But apparently it is wiser to think about it now.

I've been told many times for being very outspoken (sometimes it's used to ameliorate the word "annoying", I suppose :p). One of my first bosses, an American, even said that I was "more American than he was". Another boss, said that even though I'm from Yogyakarta (a city in Java, culturally well known for its high-level politeness and manners), I actually sound more like someone from North Sumatra (another part of Indonesia, known to be more outspoken than those from Java).

And then, very recently, a colleague said that actually I reminded him of Dr. Sheldon Cooper of the Big Bang Theory. *for those who don't know who he is,...helloo??! all cool people watch The Big Bang Theory, for God sake...lol. :D
Sheldon is cute, smart and everything...I love him...but being told that I am like him...is of course not something that I want to hear. :D

To make it worse, I need to ask my colleague what occasion precisely made me look like Sheldon. There you go. :D Lack of sensitivity, a number one Sheldon attitude.

So...apparently, Mum knows her daughter much more than anyone else. Well, thank you Mum for telling me that, I promise to be more sensitive and to think wisely before open my mouth.

So, for those whom ever feel annoyed with my words, apologies, I promise I will try my best to not repeating it. :)


*photo credit: http://sheldoncooper.net/how-to-talk-like-sheldon-cooper

Because names are prayers, so, here's some ideas...:p

Name given to a child is actually the parents' prayer for him/her. Suddenly this thought came to my mind, in the middle of reading President Suharto's national addresses. lol. (kok ra nyambung yo...)

So, I've been wanting to name my children (in the future) with footballers' name. Eric (from Cantona), for sure. Haven't thought about any other footballer so far. (My nephew is actually named "Zidane") :p

The prophet name (whether it's going to be Muhammad or Ahmad) will be there, insya Allah, for the goodness and the blessings it may bring.:)

And, the new thought, is to name them with these astronomical objects, in their Javanese versions, specifically. So, among them will be thing such as "Bagaskara" (the sun), "Buana" (the earth), "Chandra" (the moon), "Aksara/Antariksa" (the sky), or "Kartika/Wintang" (the star). Stargazing rocks.

Hmm...sounds a lot...and most of them sound like boys' name. :D But sounds cool, no? They're all good prayers indeed. :)

Anyway, that's noted. And please don't steal my idea. Hehehe. Now, back to President Suharto...

*pics taken from: http://www.astronomy-images.com/

A Note for Myself, This Friday Morning

My twitter timeline has something interesting, and I suppose making note here is just the most reasonable thing to do. Yeaa, baby, you live in the social media era! :D

It was about one hadith (words of the Prohet Muhammad). The original sentence was something like this:
"How lucky is that man (or woman) who adopts humbleness without having scarcity, who considers himself inferior without having to beg for anything, who spends his won earned money in the right causes without disobeying Allah, who is kind to those having little means, and who remains in the company of learned men (and women)" (Tibrani)

So...this actually tells us who an enviable person is:

1. a person who is humble despite having that which makes people proud.
2. a person who earns and spends in the path of Allah.
3. a person who is kind to those less privileged.
4. a person who benefits from the companionship of the learned.

Hah, such a nice note it is (satisfied with myself, and my social-media literacy, lol).

Envy is truly one of the seven deadly sins that often drives us crazy. Looking at this note make me realize that sometimes my envy are just unnecessary, for to be enviable one should perform those 4 criteria. And indeed, to be enviable is just probably not that difficult. :D

Hmm...what do you think? :)

source: @islamicthinking

*picture: taken by me in a Turkish restaurant in London, 2011

When I feel 'unable to define'...

When I feel this way, I will usually visit this blog. It has some sort of galau-ness in its tone, if you ask me, which feels good. haha. The blog is no longer being updated. The writer said he had lost his "mojo" to write. Unfortunately. Despite these, I always find interesting things, sometimes just to read, many times to inspire, most of the time to make me wonder, but often to make myself feel more awful...lol.

This particular post is interesting for today. Yes,I have never asked this question before, despite my new obsession with conceptualization, operationalization, and measurements (lol, thanks to King, Keohane and Verba - 1994.)

"how do you measure a year in a life?"

"Yeah, measure it in love!"

"2004 - 2 major crushes, 1 CLBK, 2 amazing journeys, 14 articles on MTV Trax, 2 converses, 15 musical stages, 6 acappela lives, 1st harry potter, 2 bouquets of flowers, 0 ketupat!"

See? It makes me feel much more awful. :p

Yet, awfulness is another thing in life to be grateful of...so that you can feel super-grateful when - in some other times - you find awesomeness. (opo seeh? :p)

Another thing I love to do in such a mood is to re-publish some poems. This time, I find a poem titled "Hujan Bulan Juni" ("June Rain") by Sapardi Djoko Damono is most relevant and representative. :D Check this out:


tak ada yang lebih tabah dari hujan bulan juni
dirahasiakannya rintik rindunya kepada pohon berbunga itu

tak ada yang lebih bijak dari hujan bulan juni
dihapusnya jejak-jejak kakinya yang ragu-ragu di jalan itu

tak ada yang lebih arif dari hujan bulan juni
dibiarkannya yang tak terucapkan diserap akar pohon bunga itu

***

Alright, now it is time to stop procrastinating and get back to real life which means...the dissertation!!!! Oh boy...

*picture was taken by me in London, Spring 2011

Beauty in The Red Bus

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Don't know and don't really care who said that, but I think it is very true.

Today, as "the beholder", I saw a beauty.

It was a Saturday afternoon, the weather was confusing, supposed to be a sunny summer, but apparently London has been in such an unpredictable and annoying mood in the last several days. I was on the red bus number 24, heading to Camden town.

There were two baby strollers already in the bus, sat nicely in the specially-designed space in the very center of the bus body. At Chalk Farm road stop, however, the third baby stroller got in the bus. As expected, it caused a problem as the bus is designed for maximum two strollers.

The bus driver told the couple with the third baby stroller that he could not drive with a stroller (with a baby in it) in the bus corridor. The option was to carry the baby, and fold the stroller. The couple said that they could not do that as the baby was sleeping. The bus driver said (in a slightly not nice tone) that "then you have to get off". He even opened the doors for them already.

However, the black-haired woman standing next to one of the two others stroller offered to fold her stroller instead. She, in her foreign accent, told her blond young son to get off the stroller, and folded it so that the couple could use their place. The young boy looked sleepy yet obediently got off his stroller. The couple affectionately stroked this little boy head showing their thankfulness.

But the act of kindness did not stop there. An old man, with his white fez, tunic, and Osama Bin Laden-styled beard hastily got off his seats, offered them to the little boy and his mum. The woman and her son thankfully took the seats.

The red bus driver shut the door and carried on.

This happened in less than 3 minutes, but it was enough to make my eyes felt slightly warm and teary. I thought of these people kindness. I thought about these people differences, London-ness. The White-British couple, the Eastern European (or Latina, I could not really tell, I am very bad at recognizing accent), and the dark-skinned Muslim man (cannot really tell his racial background and cannot recognized his accent too). I knew, this is the London that I want to remember.

Ah, my eyes feel warm and are now slightly teary again. It is the thought of the beauty in the red bus and these London people, that probably bring me to the thought of Princess Phyra and Prince Fluvius.

*picture was taken by me, December 2010