rizkapramadita's Weblog

Love

rizka pramadita — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 18:32:01 +0000

By Rumi

No better love than love without object,
no more satisfying work than work with no purpose.
If you could give up tricks and cleverness,
that would be the cleverest trick!

Gamble everything for love,
if you’re a true human being.

If not, leave this gathering.

Half-heartedness doesn’t reach into majesty.
You set out to find God,
but then you keep stopping for long periods
at mean-spirited roadhouses.

If the beloved is everywhere,
the lover is a veil,

but when living itself becoms
the Friend, lovers disappear.

I rarely let the word “No” escape
From my mouth
Because it is so plain to my soul
That God has shouted, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Two Sided Man

rizka pramadita — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 20:51:53 +0000

by Rudyard Kipling

Much I owe to the Land that grew–
More to the Life that fed–
But most to Allah Who gave me two
Separate sides to my head.

Much I reflect on the Good and the True
In the Faiths beneath the sun,
But most upon Allah Who gave me two
Sides to my head, not one.

Wesley’s following, Calvin’s flock,
White or yellow or bronze,
Shaman, Ju-ju or Angekok,
Minister, Mukamuk, Bonze–

Here is a health, my brothers, to you,
However your prayers are said,
And praised be Allah Who gave me two
Separate sides to my head!

I would go without shirt or shoe,
Friend, tobacco or bread,
Sooner than lose for a minute the two
Separate sides of my head!

Longing by Matthew Arnolds

rizka pramadita — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 20:34:52 +0000

Longing

by Matthew Arnold (1822-1888)

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again.
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Come, as thou cam’st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me.

Or, as thou never cam’st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth.
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say My love! why sufferest thou?

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again.
For then the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Soy Amada

rizka pramadita — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 20:03:56 +0000

By Rizka Pramadita

The other day i wrote myself an ode to the virtue of Apple in Eden.
I questioned whether it was mundane, or celestial and divine. So many probable answers came and i got confused,
In the end i resumed that parts of my ode should remain unwritten.
Apple of Eden belongs to the acceptance of each believers.
I thought the effort of writing the Ode would bring me to the fruits of knowledge
In a sense, it did, but most of it was archaic.

Traces of smiling little faces and thoughts became trails of smiling little hooks.
Therefore today i am composing my own letter of Repentance.

Yet out of the blue i stumbled on an odd spectacle.
I fell! I fell!
I fell with tears of joy i fell on your feet.
And my conscience said, “Oh no, not again…”
Prophecies said 100% rejection would occur.
Good God you came with open arms and grace instead.

So i listened.
I listened attentively.

I caught every single word greedily like i had only been doing monologues for decades.
I attempted to interpret them and stitch the result with patches of feelings and little cognition of mine.
The process created bursts of happiness, sparks of light.
Firework in New Year’s eve.

Laugh please, the whole things changed the next day.
We built walls around us, you had the plan, I put the bricks.

It’s all in one bowl: passion, compassion, self-restraint, boundaries, hopes, fears, dreams.
But above and beyond, i have my utmost respect and trust.

Let’s not go astray.
My afflictions flow along the downstream,
With a will of trying to coexist,
Without causing any suspense or disgrace at your end.
Let’s not go astray, let’s not go astray.
I believe i acknowledge the fact: we all are going to be ashes in urns.
I have said too much and done too little.

My soul cast down on the ground in humility, submission, and adoration.
I kneel and prostrate, another ode is started.
Only, this is a dedication of love to the Divine Maker.
I surrender to You only. Love me, gravitate me, save me.
As to you, soy amada, and that is more than enough.
(February 2008)

rizka pramadita — Mon, 14 Feb 2011 21:21:39 +0000

Remembering the Earthquake 2009

rizka pramadita — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 01:51:55 +0000

By Rizka Pramadita

I fell asleep on my sajada after making Fajr today.
My soul followed a course of marbled path in a sacred garden.

One door is open.

Bright, blinding light.
I stepped inside.

A room packed with humid condolences, walls full with sobbing, tears thick as a soup.
A picture of a sweet little girl perched at the center.
I stood there gazing at the mourning crowd, wondering.
Is there anything I should know about?

Suddenly I was alone,
Alone in my selfhood.
And I was waiting for something to come.
I had with me a small mirror.
There are wrinkles on the reflection,
Wrinkles that tell tales.
Each was attached to this and that.

My work, my education, my family, my dreams and ambitions.
Convivial trail of such temporary attributes.

What good does it all do when I’m in a place like this?
Alone with my selfhood.

I looked up,
Clear blue sky is clear.
Wide spotless roof,
A simple emptiness.

My eyes blinked and I could barely breathe,
Big chunks of what was once a beautiful school,
Now rubbles.
My eyes blinked and it’s just impossible to breathe,
The sweet little girl yet to be found is here,
Chest sandwiched by bricks, arms and spine broken by the overwhelming weight.
Her hand reached out to me, but mine was never seemed long enough to reach her.
And everytime I try harder, the more I was sent away.

I woke up.
Gasping. Panting.
Sweat drops.

I know I’m waiting,
Like my sweet little girl.
Waiting for my turn to return.

___________________________________________________
May Allah has mercy on thousands of victims of the 2009 Earthquake who were mostly children studying in their kindergartens and elementary schools.
May Allah guide us the knowledge to know which is the matters of the hereafter (ukhrawiyah) and which is of the present world (dunyawiyyah). May Allah give us the strength to strive for the sa’adah (everlasting felicity and bliss) and avoid the shaqawah (great misfortune and misery). Amin.

Bukittinggi Earthquake 2009

Empty Seats

rizka pramadita — Sun, 11 Jul 2010 18:25:35 +0000

By Rizka Pramadita

Such wrath, such gloom.
Despicable gloom in my heart,
To witness these empty seats.

My Teacher came to spread his Light,
yet empty are the seats.

Present were of what was seen,
Merely flesh, and blood, and bones.
But no soul, no soul, no soul.

My Teacher came, what a delight!
and was welcomed by no more than unflown kite.

Fingers are tamping,
Pens are doodling,
Thoughts wandered around somewhere.
Lost, and carried away.

All these empty seats,
such wrath and defeat.

While my Teacher came and still,
patiently sit and teach us ‘ilm:

“Because ikhtiyar is bound in meaning with khayr, meaning ‘good’, being derived from the same root khara (khayara), the choice that is meant in ikhtiyar is the choice of what is good, better, or best between the two alternatives”.

- Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas, “Prolegomena to the Metaphysics of Islam”

On Attitude

rizka pramadita — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 05:23:13 +0000

Wow.. I found this old post of my old friendster account… I still find it joyful (for myself) to read, reminiscing the odd and awkward moments and the lessons learned from getting angry at someone… But Alhamdulillah, now, no offense to anyone by re-posting this (i’m best friends with anyone I wrote in it now). Just thought that it could still be useful for anyone to read…

On Attitude
December 11th, 2007

There is a quote that i’ve known for almost three years, but has just recently occurred nicely to a situation this afternoon.

W. C. Fields said that, “Attitude is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than what people do or say. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill”. Apart from how much I had agreed or applied to myself, what happened today made me believe that there is much truth in the quote.

So today, my friends and I had a presentation on Technology Transfer. The audience were about 40 of our classmates (who have been our mates for three semesters, to be noted). We presented what we planned to be an entertaining role play – show reel in the form of a short movie that explains briefly about the importance of technology transfer and its effect on the growth of economical and political power. We did not put much data or theories in it in order to keep our audiences away from boredom (the time slot for our presentation was right after lunch time, people).

After we played the movie, we opened questions and answers session. Among the audiences who asked, there was one who did not seem to ask questions merely out of curiosity, but more because that one special audience need a public approval that our movie was less substantial.

Let’s call the latter with Banjo.

Banjo started the questions (not even with a question word) with a statement of “I don’t get the movie” and Banjo went on and on making corrections by saying “You should have done your work this and that way… blah blah blah..”

Since i’m an open book, i could not, i did not, hide the fact that Banjo was getting on my nerves. I answered briefly on one of her bombarding questions that sounded like, “Why did you make your movie so shallow?”. I said, “The reason of our group is simple, it’s a good will to entertain all of our friends. We intentionally left the theories out of the screen because we truly can talk about them in this discussion session.” I did not realize that my tone was hardened (I only found it out when later on my friend told me). But then Banjo got on again, Banjo spelled out that we got the concept wrong and that Banjo did not see any of ‘technology transfer’ element in our movie. Banjo spelled out gravely many theories and ‘correct’ perspectives and ended the ’soliloquy of the day’ with a comment (plus a smile) that demeaned our group’s credibility and confidence. Banjo said, “So where’s technological transfer in your presentation…” (note: it was not a question, it was meant to be rhetorical).

To me, maybe Banjo’s critics and suggestions were indeed useful for our future works. Maybe Banjo was that ~~damn~~ smart. I can’t deny that there were many lacks and shortages of further information on the topic of Technology Transfer in our movie, but when the framing is not ’sharing’ and instead ‘reprimanding’ to put us in disgrace, Banjo’s words felt so surreal. The diction fell flat, leaving only agony and anger in our hearts. Banjo’s approach was a rebuking approach.

After a moment of anger, distress, a sudden intimidating hunger, and three hours of breathing slowly I started to review my thoughts and feelings. Maybe I just had an episode of the so-called Reactive Devaluation, that is when any information coming from a specific person is constantly discounted because that person is already disfavored. I am conscious that prior to today’s incident, I had had informations on how unwelcome Banjo is. Those informations could contain much errors and misgivings, but anyhow, they were easier and tastier to grasp. Yet i still believe that there were other ways to deliver a good intention (if it was good) in sharing knowledge and evaluation. I think knowing all these possibilities, and the fact that maybe I’m sweating the stuff out, chances are I must forgive my prejudice toward Banjo, and furthermore the incident today.

So, enough now with despising. I hope tomorrow I won’t go about bragging Banjo’s attitude again. Hopefully the case is closed.

it’s weird and pleasant experience simultaneously, looking back at ‘younger me’ in written words…

Spring’s Gift

rizka pramadita — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 04:58:50 +0000

I know it’s not spring anywhere on earth today, but it’s the month of Rajab in Islamic Calendar, and soon it will be the month of Sha’ban. The month of Sha’ban, the meritous month in which muslims are to observe their ‘ibadaah or prayers more frequently. Start building on night prayers and adding more dhikr to each prayer…all this is to welcome the grand month of Ramadan. Yes, Ramadan! How we all long for Ramadan! It is the only month where all gates of Paradise are opened and all doors of Fire are closed, they evil devil are all chained. The month where Al-Qur’an was first revealed, the month that bears Laylat al-Qadr the most holy night of the year, Ramadan!. And I truly feel that the joy of spring is here whenever Ramadan comes close!

Get ready for the excitement of suhoor, iftaar, dates, and a taste of superb blessings from above

Delicacy of Ramadan

Now now, to get back on track on why I titled this post as Spring’s Gift…. Shaykh Hamza Yusuf wrote a poem about the Beloved Prophet (peace be upon him) and was one of my favourite poems. This poem serves best of how I feel today, quite melancholic, but the roots can be found in my longing (as well as the other fellow muslims and muslimahs) to make this 1400 years distance between me and the Beloved can somehow miraculously shrink in this upcoming month of Ramadan. I long for you, Ramadan. I long for you, Ya Habibie…

Spring’s Gift

by Shaykh Hamza Yusuf

I envy the sand that met his feet
I’m jealous of honey he tasted sweet

Of birds that hovered above his head
Of spiders who spun their sacred web

To save him from his enemies
I envy clouds formed from the seas

That gave him cover from the heat
Of a sun whose light could not compete

With his, whose face did shine so bright
That all was clear in pitch-black night

I envy sightless trees that gazed
Upon his form completely dazed

Not knowing if the sun had rose
Or if the sky was one with those

Who knelt, who prayed, and fasted too
Simply because he told them to

With truth and kindness, charity
From God who gave such clarity

His mercy comes in one He sent
To mold our hearts more heaven bent

I envy all there at his side
Who watched the turning of the tide

As truth prevailed and falsehood fled
And hope restored life to the dead

And men and women found their place
With aspirations for God’s Face

I envy the cup that gave him drink
His thoughts that helped us all to think

To be one thought that passed his mind
Inspiring him to act so kind

For me this world is not one jot
If I could simple be a thought

From him to God throughout the ages
As revelation came in stages

I pity all who think it odd
To hear him say there is one God

Or he was sent by God to men
To hone their spirits’ acumen

It’s pride that blinds us from the sight
That helps good men to see his light

He taught us all to be God’s slaves
And he will be the one who saves

Humanity from sinful pride
Muhammad has God on his side

So on this day be blessed and sing
For he was born to grace our Spring

With lilies, flowers, life’s rebirth
In a dome of green like his on earth.

Spring is here in my heart

Marriage

rizka pramadita — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 05:18:06 +0000

“Marriage is not a playground where the ego thoughtlessly pursues its vanities.”

-Imam Zaid Shakir in ‘The Ethics of Chivalry’-

…when marriage is so much beyond a wedding…