I see labels.
A new profession.
A new company.
A new event.
A new place.
A new product.
Looking back on the past four years I have been active on campus, I have seen many ideas bloom out of thin air, to being scribbled down on paper and finally manifested into reality. There are times we feel that we are talking more than we should or end up doing more than we ought to do. Those are the times that we know lessons exists within the setbacks of our actions and our promises. Before we heal completely and forget those lesson, we move on to another plunge of fate of trials and errors that may or may not bear fruit.
I do not own these labels. I did not create them. I did not join in for the sake of proving to myself about what I am capable of. It was a spur of the moment. An act under His will that I should go ahead and give a helping hand in kick-starting something among my people, my campus community. No one else told me to do it, I was not forced to pick up the task from an insider or anything. It’s just that I tend to get bored when I am by myself. I turn to the person next to me and start a conversation to where it would end at another beginning, somewhere along the lines of “Jom borak-borak?” Then, a string of events would just unfold. It was a pure gesture to start something rolling. Keeping the rolling momentum is not easy. Unfortunately, even a rolling ball would stop after it loses all its energy. Unless it hits a curb or falls down a hill, it would not stop rolling. I think I just hit one of those points today.
Happy fasting and Ramadhan Kareem!
memorydive#6 - Ladies Night
"We’ve got to make use of our time here."
“What? As long as we are still eligible to enter?”
“Exactly. Kalau tak, rugi lah. Plus, you have to learn to swim while I am still here.”
The conversation we had in C817 that night made us grab our swimming attire and head straight outside to the (quite open) swimming pool inside the building at the opposite side of the road from our college block, back in 2010. A smiley pakcik greeted us at the registration booth asking for our student ID. I wondered, wasn’t it ladies night, tonight? I dug deep into my worn out brown duffle bag, searching for my matrics card. Suzanna had hers in a special secret compartment in her bag so it was always within reach and rarely misplaced. I should definitely learn from pros like her.
I can’t remember the last time I was clad in a swimsuit. As a child, I do remember having a small pink one with an image of snoopy at the front and a miniskirt that hung around the waist. But that was way back when my height was within one meter. Back when my elder sister and I were the only girls in the pack of siblings and everything we had had to match like we were almost identical twins. Now, I am in another kind of swimsuit, a cross between a diving suit and a leotard. I grabbed this from my sister’s closet and I believe this is what the trend of muslimah swimming suits looks like, except this was bright turquoise. Plus, the front of the suit was decorated with a huge flowery print and there was a longer skirt that hung from the waist to hide’ those parts that should be hidden’. Haha. I felt like a clown. No wonder my sister never wanted to wear this, even if my mom bought it for her birthday. I couldn’t give a damn. It was better than being in a birthday suit. I was here to swim, so that is what I shall do.
Suzanna always liked swimming like her life depends on it. A few days without a swim can make her go cranky. I watched her do her laps around the pool so effortlessly as I was stuck by the side of the pool, refusing to release my grip from the handlebars. My feet was stiff inside the water, I didn’t know what to do. Float? Breathe? Push my legs and flap my arms. What to do first or what to do next? Instead of getting caught in my own clumsiness in water, I just stood there. I seriously need a coach. It was those times that I granted permission to Suzanna to laugh all she wants at me just as long as she agreed to teach me how the pros do it on ladies night.
P.S. - I miss you, dear roomie, Suzanna Bono!