I arrive at the gathering, a little skeptical of the state I find myself in, fearing that I would know no one. Familiar faces whose name I have forgotten, the three pecks on the cheeks, and we sit down, to be briefed about what to expect after coming back to Malaysia.
Personally I admire those who come back from abroad, being usrah-fied, who can still, at the very end of their study, still pursue that same cause. It is a life far removed from me now, all these gatherings and talks about being united, with all the kemelut yang melanda parti, and the need to continue solidifying your ukhwah.
Like the poem e.e. cummings, i say to them;
‘i carry your heart, here with me (i carry it in my heart)’
In a way, I do miss these sort of gatherings, where one has a sense of belonging in a stranger’s land. But once you return, all of that dissolves, and once again you become alone in your endeavors and have to cope on your own, spiritually and emotionally. Commitments (illusory ones) and the reality of your situation suddenly surrounds you on all four corners.
I admit that I never had the pleasure to understand and wholly immerse myself to these experience, the types of bond they have, the sisterly love, the heart shaped coloured papers, and balloon filled activities, the tears of sadness, the circles of joy and the meetings at parks and under the trees. I do not understand them, and perhaps never will.
But what happens afterwards, in a year, or two? I fill up a few forms, ask a few questions about the things I can volunteer with, be it as a facilitator or anything really, saying I will help out if help is needed, but above all, I question my own sincerity.
***
Sedang membaca Dunia Adalah Sebuah Apartmen. Saya terhibur.
‘Penumpang hentikanlah senyummu kepada pramugari itu. Dan tentukan apa tujuanmu ke pulau ini. Pulau dingin yang berani’
perkaraperkara 