Thank God He let me rise

Salam..
so nk blog ape nih.

besides 9km cross country yg x brape nk memenatkan. ( i walked)
hahah..
finally this year got a company. Aliaa yg all those years she was in front, melecet kaki n couldnt run. but we breeze walked. kind of.
kesian je sume cikgu2 kat checkpoint ckp.. "la...aliaa!! i thought u were in front! apa la..."
"aliaa sakit kakiiiiiii"
"kaki aliaa sakiiitt"
"i hurt my heeeeeeeels"

hak2.
so, OK. BOIKOT UMAH ALI !! osman 210 while they got 211!! cheess. haaha. :D tahniah to umah burn n omar for getting juara bersama for this year's merentas desa, waaaaayyy ahead, 307 mata! huhuhu

mke bakal bermulalahh segala latihan rumah n sebagainya. lenguh kaki pon x ilang lagi nih. but alhamdulillah i managed to arrived slightly earlier. kalo x jadi cm drang2 yg kne lari kat padang baper round nta sbb lambat.. pheww.

so. enough la kan. ari ni dapat cikgu baru for math mod. she's ok, i guess. paham2. :)
cg syuhada. cg harnani 4 add math. n lusa, dapat cikgu baru 4 bio n chem.. lalala.

bak kata cikgu rohana..
"cikgu baru la bes... bersemangat waja.. cepat je masuk class. byk bahan 4 activities"
.. muahaha. :D
n cikgu hidayah dearest,
"cg baru best apa.. hampa boleh get to know sbb xbyk gap.."

btol gak kan.

oh, n lakonan The Necklace ari tuh was ok. tce said it was a very good performance, THANKS TO ALIAA!! with her france accent n such. :D
n tce smpat bagi tugasan -> find pictures or articles and write ur reflection bout what's happening in Gaza.

sje nk share kat sini...
rjin bace lah.



It's new year for Muslims! 1430hijriah. Firecrackers and fireworks for celebrating Islamic new year? That didn't seem quite right. It's a norm for us to welcome new year with prayers; not colorful fireworks and head-banging concerts.

But no, our brothers and sisters 'celebrate' new year loud and clear, bright but dusty, and 'fireworks' of bloody splatters. While they are struggling, dying to live, we even have the guts to celebrate 2009 with concerts when they cried out loud begging "o please don't attack us."

Here, you have the heart to abort your unborn babies or throw the babies like trash when babies there were bombed, and some weren't even born yet. The mothers were hoping to give birth to a child, or even children whom someday we'll call them Mujaheddin or Mujahidat. Where do we stand?

We complain of having to walk a thousand miles to school when their schools were nothing but demolished buildings. We complain of having to bring heavy bags when they stuffed their bags with little pebbles to be thrown in case those big tanks turn around and come back. We hardly wake up with flaming spirits to learn and study while they eagerly wanted to be saviours for their country and religion. Where do we put ourselves?

We find it hard to boycott fancy restaurants which we used to dine-in, snacks we used to favour when they have nothing, nothing to eat; unless if they're lucky enough, a scoop of soup will be appreciative. Again, where are we in the frame?

Stop and stare. You blame Israel for attacking our brothers and sisters since the past six decades yet you laughed at those interested in joining demonstrations or protests against these bastards. Happened to me before. Intended to at least show our disapproval but labeled as overacting by dearest classmates. Go ahead and blame Israel then.

We cried flooding the Nil River after losing a friend out of an emotional fight when they accept the bitter fact that their dearest brothers and man of the family left them after a bloody war. Who are we to be compared to them?

Stop claiming nobody understands you and you crucially need a girlfriend or boyfriend's shoulder to cry on when they don't even have a mother, or a decent doll to hug. You spent money SMS-ing but they pityingly; need money for medicines and food. You spent the late hours talking on the phone, woke up late for Subuh the next day when they woke even before the sun does; thanking God He let them rise once again.

We shed tears for a fine cut and condemned a perfume when profusing blood and tears are their daily scenes and the smell of death is their 'favourite' odour. Happy?

Where oh where is the shining sword once held by Khalid al-Walid leading an army of those prepared and loved to die (syahid), faught against those readily hail the world? Where is the new generation of Salahuddin al-Ayubi ; the warrior from hundred wars, who once brought back the glory of Andalusia? Where is the boiling jihad spirit of Tareq bin Ziad these days? Where are we??

The whole world is insulting the act of the Zionist but they keep polishing their weapons selfishly. O Allah, please help them. If we can't feel what they are feeling right now, at least try to hear them crying for help. It's our duty to study effortly; to toil around the clock and save them once we are able to.

Call us fanatics but just lay one second of thought - you will absolutely do the same thing if it was YOUR kids' school being attacked and bombed.

ignore the grammatical error. tce pon x kisah. it's a journal. santai je, xyah bunga2.
i pasted 10 pictures in between.. dlm buku lah..

sekian. wassalam alayk.