Come and get me New Year. I am ready!

Part Two: Nature XCIX

A DEW sufficed itself
And satisfied a leaf,
And felt, “how vast a destiny!
How trivial is life!”

The sun went out to work,
The day went out to play,
But not again that dew was seen
By physiognomy.

Whether by day abducted,
Or emptied by the sun
Into the sea, in passing,
Eternally unknown

Emily Dickinson (1830–86)

Another year folds upon itself, and a new one dawns upon us.

This time, we tell ourselves it will just be the same. No need for resolutions and no need for change as it is inevitably a colossal disappointment come year end anyway. Why bother, we tell ourselves. This year, I shall just take it as it comes.

I have spent the last few weeks reflecting on my own life, and concluded that perhaps this is not the way to go after all. Incidentally before I found out about blogging and obviously got hooked to it, like the first time a baby finds his pacifier, I have always kept a journal. In college it was hand written, and as I progressed it got digital and most of it now is nicely tucked away for my reading ruminations. So as I reflect on the past, reading these entries, preparing myself for the future - I noticed that as much as I would like to say that I have evolved over the years, most of the issues I face are still the same.

They say people never change. Perhaps there is some truth in this. However, thanks to this blog, as Jo once mentioned, I have witnesses to what I write and how I see myself. Hopefully in months to come, this blogger will be able to shape himself into a being that would finally be of some use to others. Otherwise, it shall just be another superficial ride in the park, one that ends with laughter but carries a lingering taint of mindless amusement.

There is a quote I like, which I got from the sidebar’s Quote of the Day.

"Man knows so much and does so little."
R. Buckminster Fuller

We often know what we need to do to meet the goals and objectives that we set for ourselves. However, as time goes by - procrastination, mismanaged priorities, lack of interest or simply just gool old plain laziness affects our outcomes. Year in and year out we ask ourselves where did the money go? Why am I working so hard just to be at the same spot all over again? How about my relationship? Where is it heading? Why do we have so much in common, yet make so little out of it? Then comes the questions about our careers. Is this what I want to do for a living? Is this all there is? Do I want to grow old and turn into my balding boss? Did I make the right choice in the first place?

This inevitably is one of the fundamental building blocks of life. Asking difficult questions.

Too often we jump into the quagmire of issues, problems and dilemmas and immediately seek for an answer. This is how we were taught when we were growing up. For every question, there is an answer. Some multiple choices, others subjective – and for each of our answers we were given a grade.

Well, guess what?

There is no grade in life, and there is no right nor wrong answers. It is all right or all wrong, depending on which point of view you take. As far as grades are concerned, people have decided to look upon you based upon what car you drive and how big your house is as a measurement. This materialistic view of life is inevitable as society decides which caste we belong to. Humans are natural born bigots, and the only way we can survive is to pigeonhole a person to where he or she belongs in the different strata's of our society which in turn enables us to relate to them.

Meet a Datuk? Jump up, shake his hands vigorously, and try to be as charming as possible. Meet simple Joe, with shiny plastic looking pants and rows of pen hanging in his shirt pocket? Well, a polite smile will do. This is who we are. We are born into a society that have stereotyped almost every nuance that we portray.

What is going to stop this?

Asking the right questions, and to continue being curious. Only when we question ourselves will we be able to create the badly needed speed-bumps for a reality check. Otherwise, it is just a straight drive, do not Pass Go, and continue with our mindless surge for needless necessities.

We need to check ourselves. Sometimes, we nod and give ourselves that well deserved pat on the back, other times we cringe in shame and wish we could turn back time. This necessity to reflect on who we are, where we are heading, and where are we now - is just a simple way to make sure that with the many distractions life has to offer, we keep moving forward.

If the child never shouted “The King is not wearing any cloths!” everyone would still pretend that everything is fine, and the poor King would still be walking around without his cloths. So these inquisitive nature in us are the milestones that halts the ego that we blow-up as we age. Let the child loose sometimes, and see what he or she has to say.

As we rendezvous with destiny, we sometimes ask if we actually contributed to the events that happened, or was it just fate? Well, no one doubts that fate played a role in what we achieved, but make no mistake, it was us that put our self into the path of opportunity or destruction to begin with. We could choose to stay on the same course, going to the same job day in and day out, and continue ranting about never having enough money; or we could change our own fate by changing our career or getting ourselves educated further to improve our opportunity.

All in all, I learned one simple truth from this ending year.

The truth to it all lies inside us. We get a say to what happens to us down the road, simply based on what we do today. And it all boils down to the choices we make, and actions we follow through with.

The only way to have money is either to earn more, or to spend less - no need for a financial guru to tell you this. The only way to have a relationship is to reach out. No one could dive into the depth of your being and read you like a book. You have to take chances and make mistakes - some will be rewarded and others you will learn from.

And most importantly to be happy? It is to strive towards the good things in life. You can choose to be grumpy, as so many do, but if you choose to ignore the small things in life, and excel in what is important then happiness is inherent to the achievements we make.

So here's to a new year, new reasons to live, and new friends to live it with!

Cheers!

(Zed's Note: The picture was nicked from binx's
site. Thanks May for the
reminder, and binx for the pix.)

[physiognomy]

1. The art of judging human character from facial features. Divination based on facial features.
2. Facial features, especially when regarded as revealing character.

When forever is never

Pernah dulu kufikirkan
Tanpa cinta tak mengapa
Bila kau pergi kurasakan
Sunyinya dihati
Baru kini kutahu
Nilai cintamu

It has been a while. A while since I have thought of the moments we created. A while since my mind played your portraits ever so slowly. A while since I felt this numb and senseless feelings. A while since I thought of these thoughts. A while since anyone have completed my thoughts. And then you called.

No dear, no one have called me and cried because they missed me, and simply because they loved me. No one, but you. You know love, and you know how to love. No one have showed me the true colors of love besides you. But we both knew it was never meant to be. There will be no us.

Lama telah ku impikan
Gadis sepertinya
Mengisi taman hati
Dengan cahaya kasih (suci)
Siapakah gadis yang ku idam...

Yes, I miss you. Tremendously. I miss the times we had, and the times we shared. I miss missing you. It was when I felt that life had a meaning. It spelled out feelings that felt so good, I felt guilty. It couldn’t be this good, it shouldn’t. But it was. It was good indeed. We enjoyed it. Yes we hurt each other doing so, but we did it anyway, because sometimes wrong is right.

No, it wasn’t without its price. We both paid. We paid dearly, and we are still paying. It will never ever go away. It was that good and it was that expensive. A lifetime of slavery is nothing compared to the bliss we shared.

Sebuah cinta dan harapan
Menjadi mimpi berterbangan
Tersekat nafasku kabur pandangan mataku
Amat tersiksa diriku
Kerana kehilanganmu

It never felt the same after. We both knew it. We both knew that what we had would also be the last time we will ever have it. It will never be the same again, now that we know that there is such a thing called love, such a thing called forever, such a thing called complete. We thought we were strong, that we were infallible, alas we were not. It hurts me thinking this thought, and I know it hurts you knowing that I am thinking it.

It never felt like it would end. We both thought that today and tomorrow and forever was the same. It was not. It never was and never will be.

Andainya aku punya waktu
Masih ku ingin mengulangi semula
Saat indah bersama mu
Sayang tak berkesempatan
Abadikan saja salam ku di ingatan
Salam ku yang terakhir

This is not goodbye. There can be no goodbye in forever. This feeling will last. We shared a moment, one that shall remain. I will be here just as much as you will be there. Far maybe; but never ever apart.

Never ever.

One that makes me warm, and proud to be Malaysian

I have my own opinions of my country. I am proud of it for sure, though I am sometimes troubled by some incidents that perhaps could be handled better.

Once in a while though we come across someone whom is able to see through the colors of the country and see a glimpse of what this nation is all about. The amalgamated society of race, religion, and political belief is one of acceptance, as today we have gone well beyond simply being tolerant.

We have matured into a country where being different is expected, and it is not one that we have to live with – but one that we have come to accept and cherish.

I look forward to grow in this country where one day we will harness the different values of our race for the betterment of a nation. One day we will cross pollinate our abilities to make us an economic and political influence that will be the glue to a united Asian Economic Community and again repeat the role of being the trading post of the region; not unlike what Malacca was not too distant in the past.

We have so much to gain, working together - and much more to lose if we don’t.

I found this article over at BlogsMalaysia and am compelled to share. Do visit the original links of the article and BlogsMalaysia to seek more.

And to Justin Raimondo... I bid you Terima Kasih.

________________________________

Christmas in Malaysia It's not what you might imagine
December 23, 2005
by Justin Raimondo

To say that Malaysia is not what I imagined would be an understatement of epic proportions. Situated just south of Thailand, north of Indonesia, and quite close to the equator, the country describes itself as officially "Islamic," and this, at least in the minds of most Americans, means a stultifying uniformity, a monolithic apparatus of cultural and all too often political repression. It means women in burqas, gay people in hiding, and a society generally groaning under the weight of an enormous repression. Therefore, when I was invited to attend the Perdana Global Peace Forum as a speaker, I was somewhat hesitant, to say the least: did I really want to venture forth into such a forbidding landscape? So my initial answer was "no." But after doing a little research, and in response to the urgings of Antiwar.com's webmaster, Eric Garris, I reconsidered. What, I reasoned, could possibly happen to me? After all, I had lived in that most dangerous and forbidding realm, the New York City of pre-Giuliani days, where you were just as likely to be mugged as anything else, and in broad daylight, too. Yet I had lived to tell the tale. So, I thought, what the heck – why not?

I am now well into my second week of staying in Kuala Lumpur, at the fabulous Crowne Plaza Hotel, and it is clearer than ever that my prejudices were not only mistaken – they were and are the exact opposite of the truth. Malaysia is the virtual incarnation of religious and ethnic diversity, a veritable melting pot of racial and devotional groups that somehow manage to live in relative harmony far beyond anything I have seen even in that paradigmatic paragon of multiculturalism, California. Malays, Chinese, Indians, Arabs, and a generous smattering of Anglo expats swarm the streets of Kuala Lumpur, the biggest city in the country: yes, there is a Muslim majority, but non-Muslims are not subject to sharia law. Malay Muslims coexist with Chinese Catholics, and Buddhist priests roam the Bukhit Bintang plaza, begging, amidst crowds shopping for the latest fashions and punk rockers with pink hair stroll fearlessly down the street.

You never saw such diversity. And that's just during the daytime. At night…

I'm getting ahead of myself. Of course, I didn't come here for the nightlife: I came for the Perdana Peace Forum, which was favored with an impressive array of speakers: former Australian prime minister Bob Hawke, British MP George Galloway, former UN assistant secretary-general Denis Halliday, Pakistan-born Britain-based writer and filmmaker Tariq Ali, former UN assistant secretary-general Hans von Sponeck, Daniel Ellsberg, and anti-nuclear-arms activist and writer Helen Caldicott. Representing the Malaysians were former prime minister Dr. Mahathir Mohamad, current Prime Minister Datuk Seri Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, and Deputy Prime Minister Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak.

I had some concerns about former Prime Minister Mahathir, but then I read this Paul Krugman column and my fears were somewhat allayed. Upon meeting Dr. Mahathir, whatever reservations remained were put completely to rest: the man seems to emanate benevolence and great gentleness, almost an aura of serenity, like some sort of Buddhist guru.

Another concern was the appearance of any connection to a government entity: Antiwar.com does not accept money from any governmental source, nor do we affiliate ourselves with the activities of any government. Only after receiving assurances that not a penny of Malaysian government money was going into the conference did we agree to attend. The conference was, indeed, a model of private enterprise in action, with corporate contributions from Ambank Group, Berjaya Corporation Bhd, Country Heights Holdings Bhd, Kuala Lumpur Kepong Bhd, Malayan Banking Bhd, Multi-Purpose Holdings Bhd, Sri Inderajaya Holdings Sdn Bhd, the Sunway Group, and the Sapura Group of Companies. Nestle and Dell Computers were also among the corporate sponsors.

At any rate, the conference was… amazing. Literally thousands of ordinary Malaysians heard the speakers and then divided into discussion groups. Around a third to a half were young people, and their questions and comments provided an illuminating glimpse into the minds of non-Americans, who look on America with great affection and respect and yet object to the actions of the American government.

Eric Garris has gone into the incident involving Zimbabwe's dictator Robert Mugabe, who suddenly showed up uninvited, so I won't go into too many of the details. Suffice to say that I made a point of working a denunciation of Mugabe's thuggery into my speech, an event that seemed to catalyze general opposition to his presence. An event at which Mugabe was supposed to speak was canceled, and, in answer to inquiries about Mugabe's presence, Dr. Mahathir remarked: "Everybody can attend. If he wants to say how good it is to be a dictator, he can."

I have to say that there was none of the crude anti-Americanism at the conference that one has – sadly – come to expect at gatherings of antiwar activists. Eric and I made a point of linking the cause of peace to the cause of free markets at every opportunity, a viewpoint that was especially appreciated by the conference organizers.

I have to say that I am… astonished by Malaysia. Here is an "Islamic" country where a gigantic 

Christmas tree sits in the lobby of the hotel I'm staying at, and the café waiters in the plaza a few blocks away are dressed like Santa's elves. Here is a city where the nightlife puts San Francisco's to shame. Where the city's oldest gay bar, the Blue Boy, makes Baghdad-by-the-Bay seem like a dive in Podunk, Idaho; where people party well into the morning light, and you can have a good time for a few ringgits (the Malay currency: around 30 cents). The food is fabulous: Malay (spicy, somewhat Thai-like), Arab (there's a great place right off Bukhit Bintang), Chinese (you haven't lived until you've sampled the pleasures of Kuala Lumpur's Chinatown), and too many more to go into here. The place is a gastrointestinal paradise!

Modernity is juxtaposed next to traditionalism: on the one hand you have the soaring heights of the Petronas Twin Towers, the tallest buildings in the world, lit up like a vision of futurity against the night sky, and on the other hand you have women in traditional dress – colorful costumes of bright color and the requisite head covering – traversing its corridors. Two, three, many worlds coexisting: the past and the future converging into a new synthesis of creativity and entrepreneurial energy. The impression one gets is of a tremendous vitality, a restless yet directed life-force that seems to spring right out of the earth.

A final note: nowhere have I experienced more genuine warmth and such a feeling of welcome. When you come to Kuala Lumpur, you are made to feel very special. The gentleness and politeness of these people is a phenomenon that doesn't exist, to my knowledge, anywhere in the U.S. Malays are generally puzzled by the actions of the U.S. government abroad, and do not support the war in Iraq: but they love America, the country, and show great admiration and respect for the American people. And that is the kind of "anti-Americanism" that I can live with.

The Christmas and New Year Tag-along

Well, we are now very close to closing this chapter of our diaries, blogs, and whatever else we use to keep our thoughts in. It is perhaps a good time to reflect after all.

Incidentally I was tagged by Sheryl, which she got from Helen, who got it from Zara’s Mama who in turn got it from Maria a.k.a. Twinsmum and apparently the original tag was in Chinese characters which either came from Mingming or Wong Teck Jung and at this point I lost the trail due to my lack of linguistic capacity when suddenly everything became a myriad of characters I wish I could read but couldn’t.

Anyway, to make a very long story short here is the tag.

Person I want my Santa to be:

The gift that I wish to get:

The RM 120,000,000.00 eCourt Project that keeps going back-and-forth like a very long boring rally in badminton! Just give it to me already. I’ll get it up and running in no time, and people would then be whizzing through the courts like it was a cashier counter at Carrefour!

So, now that we’ve got the tag done, lets move on to the next topic.

I was out last night with some friends and we started talking about blogging. Lo and behold! To my pleasant surprise, there were three active bloggers around the table, and as there were like eleven of us, most of the rest were either already commenting on blogs or are planning to start one. Well, well, well interesting as it may be, I also realized something about blogs.

While the personality we present in our daily life may project a certain image, over on a blog we are sometimes a completely different person. It may not really be who we are, or sometimes it is a reflection of our true self emerging in an atmosphere that suggests some form of placid tranquility.

Yes on a blog we are not unlike Superman faster then a speeding bullet, stronger then a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings with a single bound! We are able to impose upon others what we think and feel, when in real life this may be suppressed by the fact that we have a nanosecond to come out with something smart to say, or end up being left out in the corner of the table nursing our drinks watching the hoopla of conversations going on like an F1 race. Yes, here in blogosphere, some of us are Superman.

Able to say much more, at our own pace at our own terms and this got me thinking about me.

Who am I in real life, as compared to this Zed fellow writing all these nuances about himself? I usually try not to write about others, simply because I don’t like it. I am not much of a gossip-monger, and people often do take offence when you write stuff about them, even if you meant well, or even if you meant it as a joke. I also realized that this anonymity we carry on our blogs is a false sense of security as someday, someone will figure out who you are, and about what you have said about them. No I cherish my fragile peace of mind a wee bit too much to bring about the notion that I am holier then thou.

In our blogs we are amongst equals. I know not who you are, and nor do you I.

On a final note.

I may have perhaps in my entries and comments made a conjecture that doesn’t sit well with you. As I hop the blogs, leaving multitude of comments here and there, perhaps I may have inadvertently piss you off. For that, and in the spirit of the days to come, and the beginning of a brand new year - I beg you for your forgiveness. I have much to lose when I lose a friend, and much more to gain when I gain your friendship virtual or real it matters not.

So from one blogger to another I bid you a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and a heck of a 2006!

Oh by the way, here is who I really want for Christmas!

No you are not lost, just audacious

How often have we been in a position where we suddenly realized that we don’t know what we are doing, not sure where we are, or perhaps just suddenly confused with all our bearings? I have been rather cryptic in the last few entries, and as Jo mentioned “You seem as though you're going through a phase of reflection this time of year, ey?” and also according to Rostam “Zed, u r beginning to write like MIV”.

Well this is no coincidence.

I am reflective, and I have been attempting to hide behind the cloak of cryptic allusions, however when I began to read what I have written I realized that some of the joy from what really is happening is taken out. Well, such is the price of a blog. Amongst close friends over a few drinks, perhaps even a game of Pictionary over at La Bodega, much more could be shared and the tête-à-tête of the evening would be just a tad more lively.

However, on these pages it would suffice to say that much is happening.

Often as we embark on a venture, we lose the dependable charted maps that have guided us well over the years. What was once taken for granted is no longer at our fingertips. The worn out assumptions we used to make, and decisions that was based on dealings that haven’t really changed over the years are no longer trustworthy.

I was having this chat with my very good friend and business partner yesterday as we sat in the Jacuzzi at the Andana Spa in the new Holiday Inn over at Glenmarie. By the way, I would recommend this spot to everyone, it is available to both sexes, has a very open ambience and allows everybody to mingle in its centre lounge – complete with VIP Rooms. A good place to unwind along with clients, and does not have any of the dodgy character often associated with the word Spa nowadays.

We spoke of many things, some about our plans, some about the new beginnings, and some about the needless need to know exactly what is going to happen. Yes, when you jump into anarchy head first, sometimes one would not want to know too much. We would rather let circumstance dictate the course of action that ensues. So now with so little to hang on, and so much to plunder we wondered what would hold us together? I believe that in the chaos of mutiny, war, and the pursuit of one’s dreams taking out the rusty Moral Compass may perhaps be the only defense from losing one’s way.

In each of our endeavors, the guiding philosophy between right and wrong lies in simple bearings once taught to us a long time ago. I believe that within each and everyone of us lies a clear distinction between good versus evil, hence as long as we remain true to the north of good and steer away from the south of evil the journey will chart its own course.

As we spent the rest of the evening over a few games of pool, and a Japanese dinner which I would not recommend, we were subdued by the fact that we will have to live with the uncertainties of what lies ahead, and leverage on our collective capabilities of what we leave behind. So even if the feelings feels like being lost, one simply have to earn one’s right to be audacious as one faces the anarchy of altercations.

Even though ablazed

If I had to do it all over again
I need all the bruises to be the same
As I know not the difference between good and bad
Since some good came from the bad
And some bad came from the good

So as I cherish my existence
I too shall cherish each penance
Every each one that brought me here
For me to ponder thereafter
And let me look upon these days

As if it was gloriously hazed
Even though some may disagree
But to me
It is mine to say and do
So I shall not leave it up to you

To say what is mine to take
Or what is mine to break
As within each and glorious days
Even though there is always some haze
Yet all is worthy of a place

Deep within this long and lonely passage

Zed Ezekiel, M.i.N.d.B.l.o.G. 2005

I want it all

Yes, the cake, eating the cake, and having my unfair share of the cake too. All of it. In fact you should too! The mediocrity of being in the middle, being the good guy, being the one that gives in is lost in the glory of greed that is cheered on by the masses of our society. The man that spends his day making an honest living from dusk to dawn, barely breaking bread for his family, living at the mercy of what his government and his employers decide upon is nothing but a life of peasant-hood jeered by some, booed by others. They call him lazy, they call him a loser, yes they call him many names while he persists that he is contented with life, and they sympathized with his complacency.

No we want to watch more then that. We want to watch a man fight odds well beyond him, win or lose it doesn’t matter as long as it is something worth watching.

So what if a man takes the easy way out? There isn’t anything fun there. We want a man to fight on with his arms torn off, his legs bleeding profusely and an arrow stuck to his back. We want to see this man battle his enemies even if it seemed all but hopeless, and for some of us we want him to win.

Alas, not all of us though. Many amongst us would like to see a man fight a good fight and fall, such is the dark nonchalant spirit we bear within us. Too many of us are too critical of others that we forget, that someone is watching us too. While we watch the man swing his axe, and takes upon blow after blow, we forget that we too are a pawn in another man’s game. We too are being manipulated like puppets on a string for the amusement of others.

So perhaps the question that begs to be answered is, while we watch another man battle his life away, what battles are we fighting and who is watching us? In light of this, I have decided that it is finally time to join the foray.

To jump into anarchy and seek cornucopia.

I am determined to fight an unfair battle, with an unfair advantage and seek an unfair slice and leave fairness to the suckers. Let them rot in their ideal dreams, while I plunder this land, and take well beyond what I need. Now at least, I know which battles I will fight, and why I am fighting for it.

It takes a big man to measure his pursuits beyond what the eyes could see, far into the realms of heaven and hell, as for most of us the chase ends here, and yes over here - good guys do finish last.


[cornucopia]

1. A goat's horn overflowing with fruit, flowers, and grain, signifying prosperity. Also called horn of plenty.
2. Greek Mythology. The horn of the goat that suckled Zeus, which broke off and became filled with fruit. In folklore, it became full of whatever its owner desired.
3. A cone-shaped ornament or receptacle.
4. An overflowing store; an abundance: a cornucopia of employment opportunities.

When all you have is what you see

I reflect on what have passed me by
I glee at the thoughts of what might have been
I gloat at the thoughts of what has been
I grimace at the thoughts of what should have been
But worst of all I was appalled
When I realized that all I see was

Me

Zed Ezekiel, M.i.N.d.B.l.o.G. 2005

Top 10 Signs: You know you've run out of stuff to blog about...

10. You think Blogthings is the next best thing to sliced bread

9. You start tweaking with your blog to change its look and layout

8. You start blogging about your childhood days

7. You blog about other blog

6. You dig out old meme/tags and finally get to doing it

5. You wished someone actually tagged you before!

4. You post lyrics

3. You post incoherent short entries or say that you are on a break

2. You start to think that there is more to life then blogging

And... Number 1 on the Top Ten Signs You know you've run out of stuff to blog about is!!!

Still scrolling?



























1. Your post is about "You know you've run out of stuff to blog about..."
and you slap people's cartoon in-between to fill in the blanks!

It’s time...

It was five o’clock in the morning. I am very cold, and I am not sure if it was because of the rain or the fact that I am going to die this morning. I finished my prayers and saw that my tears have stained my praying-mat like a whole bowl of water just spilled all over it. I didn’t sleep at all last night, as I took turns either praying or crying my head off. I knew it was too late. Hoping against hope isn’t going to get me anywhere. As the Ustaz mentioned yesterday, I have to “Redha” as this is my fate. I have to accept it.

I fought a good fight. I am innocent. But who isn’t if the gallows are inches away from their neck, who is not innocent? No one believes me, and I have exhausted all my plea’s, there is no one left that I could beg for my life.

I heard the footsteps and the jingle of keys as the guards opened the outer door that leads to my cell. The sound of other inmates roused by the commotion is beginning to rise. One recited the “Azan”, while others were just shouting incoherently. My vision became very sharp, it was as if I could take a knife and slice through everything I see. The noise was silenced by the guards, except for the “Azan”. Kadir just went on delivering the “Azan”, and the guards let him. Kadir was next, and he knew it. He too have little to hope for as he was caught with a van full of marijuana, and crying innocent is not going to help him either.

I am done crying. I am done regretting. I am just done being done.

I wish that the next few minutes could be sped up into seconds. I just wanted to get this over with. I no longer have any fight in me. Though I am very afraid. I am very afraid of the inevitable pain. They say that dying is painful, and I am afraid that it is going to hurt. I asked the Ustaz yesterday if God would forgive my sins, as I now know when I am going to die. They said that the door to repentance is closed after you die, does that apply if I knew when I am going to die? He said that it is up to God, and God is Most Forgiving and Most Merciful. I only wished that human was as forgiving.

They looked at me from outside my cell as if I am going to lunge and wreck their well laid out routines. I looked at the guards and the Warden, smiled and told them to come in and get me. I may not be ready, but if I am to meet my maker, it might just as well be now. This is a good day to die. I didn’t know if it was courage or if it was just abandonment. I have failed to be alive, I might as well look forward to death.

They opened the door gingerly and stepped inside. Two of the guards immediately stood behind me and cuffed my hands. The Warden looked at me, and with a face full of regret as if he agreed with my innocence, he read my charges and the punishment meted upon me. Then the Ustaz walked into the cell and asked me if there is anything I would like to say to him. I looked at him, my eyes was cloudy as tears was streaming, and I couldn’t find my voice. The words did not come out. So instead I just looked at him and shook my head. He came closer and hugged me, and I just kept on weeping. He kissed me on the forehead as if I am his long lost son and said “Sabarlah nak, semua ini bukan kerja kita lagi. Redhalah nak… redha lah. Mengucap nak, mengucap. Ikut saya mengucap”. And we both in unison recited the proclamation of faith that there is only one God and that Muhammad is his Prophet. He then said that my family and him will be reading the Ya’asin outside while they proceeded with my execution. I never thought of that. Reading the Ya’asin for a man condemn to death not by disease nor by some freak accident. Condemn to death by a system that does not work. A system that have failed to single me out as innocent.

I knew that there was nothing that I can do. These people are going to kill me, and there is nothing I can do. I don’t know how to explain the feeling. I feel so helpless. I am going to be killed for a crime I never committed. Yet I am supposed to accept it as my fate? I am supposed to “Redha”? I ask god if this is what he meant by his test. If this was a test, I have failed for sure, because in all my acceptance and in all my repentance, I have not come to “Redha” my fate. I can’t. My life will to be taken away from me, and I can’t accept that.

They walked me out of my cell, and we slowly made our way to the execution-chamber just next to the cells. The cell was again loud with shouts from all the inmates, and this time even the guards could not quench the cry.

I was brought into a brightly lit room with a large black curtain in front of it. I thought that the room would be a lot bigger. It was quite cramped and the black curtain hides a screen; and the people that will be watching me die. In the middle of the room was the gallows. There was a triangular piece of wood that looks almost like a bench under the gallows.

The guard said that he is going to cover my head now. I looked at him and asked him his name. He looked at the Warden. I said that I am going to die, who am I going to tell his name to? The Warden nodded his approval. The guard said his name was Muhammad. I smiled. I said that if there was anyone that I wanted to kill me, perhaps Muhammad is the best person. I found comfort in his name, but then I am a man about to die in the next few minutes. I would probably try to find comfort in anything.

My legs felt very weak as Muhammad covered my head. They carried me forward, and I knew why they had the piece of wood under the gallows. It was to support me so I could stand upright. I felt someone placing the noose around my head. Its leather rubbed against my neck as they slid it into position. I can’t stop crying, and I could hear them saying “Mengucap, mengucap, mengucap”.

I am angry. Angry at the fact that I am going to die.

I was so angry that the rage in my head no longer have an enemy. I no longer know who to blame or who to hate. I wanted so much to blame God. He did this to me. He is the reason that I am going to die! And in that fraction of a second I finally understood what the Ustaz was trying to tell me. “Redha lah” … Accept it. I realized now what I am supposed to accept. God if I accept this, will you pay me with heaven in return? Will you let me grace heaven’s door for accepting my fate as a man of religion? Will you?

Then there was a crash, like a thousand whip cracked all at the same time as I struggled to regain my footing, the floor gave way and I felt like I fell for eternity, and finally it was all silent…

(Zed's Note: I read the first few comments to this story and decided to add this. Before you guys think that I am off the cliff or something I'd better give this story some context! Okay, this was written quite a while back. I was at Pudu Jail, in the execution chamber and they had a play-by-play of the last morning a person goes through as he is brought into the room and hanged. I have always wondered what goes through a man's head as he walks into this room. Perhaps it's morbid, or even despicable but as a country we have decided that it is acceptable to hang a person to death. Many have died at the end of this rope, and some or maybe only one - just one person; is truly innocent. How would he have felt as he goes through the last final moments of his life?

Actually we will never know. Anyway, this is just another one of my stories as I continue to experiment with this medium of telling tales. If it has disturbed you, then I am sorry. If it did not, then perhaps I have failed?)