Freedom Writer : The Movie

I wonder, when we see someone, what do we see? Do we see them as individual, as a human being? Having the same right as God’s creation to the air we breathe, to the warmth of the sun, the freedom to choose and to life? Or do we see people based on their color, their religion or their beliefs?

Then I look around me and I see genocides, war, hatred, misunderstanding and death. And I wonder, why could we not be more tolerable? After watching this show entitled “Freedom Writer” star by Hilary Swank, I believe that what we lack in this world today is love, genuine, unselfish love and the believe that there’s good in each of us.

Well, some might argue that all of us have that love. Well, yes and no. Adolf Hitler also propagates love but his love is only for his own people, the Aryan race. And because of this so called loop sided love, it marks one of the darkest moment in the history of mankind, the Holocaust. The love that I talked about is different and so far there’s only one that I know who has this love. The one whom I talked about is God. For God does not permit the sun to shine only upon those that he favors, nor allow the rain to fall on land of those whom he likes but to all, the good and the bad. Yes, we can never be like God but whose stopping us from trying daily to do what God has mandate us to do on earth. What is stopping us from emulating God’s love?

The Freedom Writer is based on a true story. Following is an excerpt from the “Freedom Writers Foundation Site” at http://www.freedomwritersfoundation.org/site/c.kqIXL2PFJtH/b.2259975/k.BF19/Home.htm

“The Freedom Writers Diary is the amazing true story of strength, courage, and achievement in the face of adversity. In the fall of 1994, in Room 203 at Woodrow Wilson High School in Long Beach, California, an idealistic teacher named Erin Gruwell (Ms. G) faced her first group of students, dubbed by the administration as "unteachable, at-risk" teenagers. The class was a diverse mix of African-American, Latino, Cambodian, Vietnamese, and Caucasian students, many of whom had grown up in rough neighborhoods in Long Beach.

Whether it was official or not, we all knew that we had been written off. Low test scores, juvenile hall, alienation, and racial hostility helped us fit the labels the educational system placed on us: “unteachable,” “below average,” and “delinquents.” Somehow, Ms. G recognized our similarities, and used them to unite us. We began writing anonymous journal entries about the adversities that we faced in our every day lives. We wrote about gangs, immigration, drugs, violence, abuse, death, anorexia, dyslexia, teenage love, weight issues, divorce, suicide, and all the other issues we never had the chance to express before. We discovered that writing is a powerful form of self expression that could help us deal with our past and move forward. Room 203 was our safe haven, where we could cry, laugh, and share our stories without being judged.”

To me this is truly an inspiring movie, that there are people out there who truly care. I have always believed that all of us can write and writings have always been a good channel to voice our thoughts, our view, our opinion and our feelings. It is truly a blessing when you go through life being given the opportunity to enrich the life of others or being given the opportunity to leave a positive impact in someone’s life.

12.30AM

It's late at night, or should I say it's wee hour in the morning. It has rained yesterday, and tonight the air is almost fresh. The breeze is cool yet not chill and somewhat soothing. I realize that other than the sound of a few cars zooming past on the nearby highway and a few cricket chirping away, all else is still and quiet.
I seriously cant imagine why I am still up. On such a lovely night, I should be in bed, tuck underneath the warmth and comfort of my blankie, drifting into dreams. I shall be patient. Sleep will definitely come. It's just a matter of time....

Please STOP!

Tears of sadness flows like rivulet of water following the curves of my face. As it trickles down, my memories ware tormented with nothing but cruel lashes of words and accusations thrown at me for my inadequacy. It seems that I was the only channel for people to vent their emotions, frustration and anger. And yet silence. For my mouth was seal as if by an invisible tape. I was the core of all things that could ever go wrong. Yes, it was my fault. I had for a long time believed that to be true.

The feeling of worthlessness overwhelms me. Nothing I do was ever right. May it be with friends, with family, with work, everything I had ever done, ever work for is all futile. I was so engulfed by worthlessness that it has paralyzed me. Struggle as I may I could not overpower it’s force against me. Why then do I need to fight something that I have no power against? Why should I constantly battle between how I hope to live my life compare to my current state? I am battling none other than the ghost of my own thoughts, feelings & emotions. Alas, I can’t change my life or my thoughts. It’s been engraved and deeply etched into my being.

I question daily my existence, my value to live. To continue to suck air into my lungs. To continue breathing. Where shall I find my comfort? In whom should I seek solace from? When I find myself drowning in the sea of despair, struggling to stay afloat, I reach out my hand desperately…but there was no hand, no buoy, no help. I was wrong. So extremely wrong. There are still those who had offered, who had extended their hands. Why then would you choose to drown? A little voice in me whisper, tell them. That little whisper makes my heart jump for joy as it realizes that I could still attain help. Then I realized it’s not that I do not want to grab hold but I can’t.

I have endured enough critique & judgment by people. I fear that my current state might not be able to withstand that change of perception from the meager few friends I had left. As I sat contemplating what had happen lately, the rivulet of tears had blurred my vision. I then realized that I was sobbing. It has almost become a routine of sort, this sobbing of mine.

I just want it to stop. I don’t wanna sob anymore. Neither do I want to feel the pain that’s stabbing my heart. I would do anything to make it stop. I don’t want to live life carrying both physical & emotional pain. Please, please stop!

A Dream

For a long time now, I have thought about it, this dream of mine.

I was struggling to wake up. Something is not right. Everything around me was just dark & gloomy. It’s like being lost in a maze where there isn’t even a beam of light. I struggle to get up. I saw myself worried about my work unfinished. I had set a target to ensure I am able to finish what I need to do. A week passed and I proudly walked into my boss office & informed him that I had finished all my tasks. I handed to him my work. Thank him and requested for a hug, then say good bye. I then walked to 2 of my friend’s cubicle, hug them and say good bye as well.

A change in scenario took me back to my home. I had applied for several days of leave. I had packed my bags & informed my parents that I would be away for a few days, going outstation for work. Then I saw myself driving over to my friend’s house. I chatted with her, had a great time, laugh, joke and as I was about to leave, I had given her a kiss on her forehead & say good bye. I walked towards the door & I stopped. With a heavy heart I look back, taking a last look trying to capture that smile, that look. Hoping that it will be engrave in my mind forever.

I drove to a hotel, had a shower then lay down on the bed. It was evening then. I took out the knife that I had prepared earlier and with one swift slash, I had made a mark on my wrist. It was not as painful as I thought. As I lay watching the blood drip on the white mattress, I had to call her. The last that I remembered was talking to her…. And then silence. No more sound, no more pain, blissful….

It’s just a dream…

20th September 2008

Hear ye! Hear ye! Great news. Her drip is off. She's up & about. Well, ok she's still in pain. What major operation doesn't involved pain... da...

She's supposed to walk (slowly) as walking helps quicken the healing process & the muscle grows stronger too. I have been scanning jokes in the internet & sending various jokes to her since yesterday evening. In normal circumstances she would have laughed out loud. Of course, now she'd had to control & just smile. Well, I may not be good at telling jokes but I definitely can distinguish some good jokes. (Trust me when I say I am lousy at telling jokes. I'll have to tell people laugh, it's a joke before someone caught on & laugh.) Hopefully continuous laughter helps too. People say an apple a day keeps the doctor away but then one can eat all the apples they want but without being happy, being able to laugh you'll still need to see the dr. And I know my friend will concur to this as well.

So today my mood is like...

Btw, did I mention, she will be discharge tomorrow.

19th September 2008

Heh :) I think I was like that yesterday. (Blush)

Well, I feel a whole lot better today. We (Roobs, Mas, PJ, kak Kas & myself) went & saw her just now. She definitely look better than yesterday. It was a huge relief for me. So here's my wish, for her to get well soon.

18th September 2008

18th September 2008.

Some might wonder, is this date significant? Is it politically related, historical maybe... well it's none of the above. It's only significant to me & the main reason I wanna put it down so that I won't forget what I feel. Someone close to my heart went for an operation today.

It's still vividly clear in my memory, she went for her usual checkup on 5th Sept. At 3:36:28pm, she sms me informing me that she needs to go for an operation on the 18th. I didn't have time to really digest the sms when I saw her walking through the door. Well, there's this song with the lyrics that sounds something like this "Walked under a bus, got hit by a train..." well it sure feels something like that.

Text her that nite asking if it's ok for me to vist her in the hospital. She said yeah, so long as I dont look worried or sad. She knows me. I am the worried type. So I told her, deal. (Well, sign, seal & deliver. Hhmm I think this is a title to a song...).

Went out yesterday with another very very dear friend. We were wondering what to get for her. Well, I thought of getting her the latest book by Cecelia Ahern (U know the one who wrote P.S I Love U), which entitled "Thanks for the Memories" But decided against it. Stupid of me, I should have surf Facebook 1st. So I quickly text another friend hoping to shed some light to my dilemma. Well, by the time the light came I am already on my way back home. Got her something else instead (and some magazines). Hopefully it'll last till Sat cos I am hitting the book store again & I now know what I want. I was out for bout 8 hours & had a splitting headache by the time I reach home. Despite the splitting headache, I was wondering if she is alright. Thus at 10:56:32pm on 17th Sept, I sms this to her:

"Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w) said: The sick person's sleep is considered as worship & his moaning as litany of praise to Allah. He is rewarded as though he is performing his usual prayers when he was healthy although he is unable to do so now. His supplications are accepted, his sins are forgiven, all his mistakes & wrong doings recorded in his book are deleted..."

I hope I didn't send her some ajaran sesat. Just hope that something will encouraged her. I know I always do such lousy job at trying to cheer or encourage people. Well, she didn't reply & I dont expect her to.

So after 2 long weeks, today is her operation. I took 1/2 day afternoon leave today. I was feeling fine in the morning. I was totally whack out by 11.30am. I began to feel anxious & extremely stress out. Can't work proper, practically counting down the minutes. Left at 12.18pm. I really hope to see her before they wheel her into the operating room. Thank God, I reach there by 1.10pm & she was wheeled in by 1.30pm.

So, there I was waiting anxiously (her husband was also there) up till bout 3pm when the Dr came out to inform that the operation went well. That was like major relief. We continue to wait till bout 4pm & she was pushed out from the operating room back to the ward. She was in tremendous pain, her anesthetic was wearing out, she's awake & they have yet to give her any pain killer. The worst is seeing how the nurses move her & she winced in pain. Seeing how when the bed rolled over a bump on the floor & she is in pain. Well, I would have sounded if it had not been that her husband had not said anything yet so who am I to be screeming at the nurses.

Seeing her like that opens the floodgate of my memories, memories of my operation. No doubt it has been 13 years since but I can still remember clearly the pain that shoots through every nerve & cell in my body.

A deal is a deal. I had to put up a brave front. Smile. Joke. Both before and after the operation. I will continue to do so until she is fully recovered. I left at about 5pm. As I was walking to the lift that's when I started crying. I feel like an idiot but this idiot could not help it and neither can I control it. It's a mixture of feelings, Happy and reliefe because the operation went well, sad and anguish because she is going through pain and finally I don't understand why she needs to go though all this. People walking pass me must be wondering. Well, Thank God, I called 2 of my friends. It helps to be able to talk to someone.

I just realised, people might not believe what I have just written. You might be wondering, she's just a colleague. Well, as the blog is entitle Thoughts Un-Publish (until I decide to change it) & knowingly there wont be many people reading so what the heck. Believe it or not, nothing more & nothing less is added or subtracted. It has depict exactly what has happened & how I feel. I can see blood, watch an operation and I would not have any reaction but it's a totally different story when things like this happen to people that I care & love. To me, it's a little sis who's undergoing an operation not a colleague.

Now the only thing I could do is pray... Pray that God will speed her recovery.

Dinner at Puteri

On Tuesday, 16th Sept a few of us went to Puteri to break fast. I had totally enjoyed the experience. It's always nice to be able to hang out with these friends of mine. Roobs almost didn't make it. She need to car pool with someone & felt that she might trouble us. She didn't realised that she brings so much joy to a gathering. It's lucky that Rose managed to talk her into finally joining us. Even though I dont say much but just being around them makes me happy. We had great laugh. There are a few jokes that I will never forget, ever. The highlight of the night other than us all having a good time was we met Siti Nurhaliza.

That's Rose (ahem also known as Ella) posing beside Siti Nurhaliza. Hhmm I wonder, which of this 2 fair maiden is younger? Then another question pop into my mind, which of this 2 fair maiden is prettier? Answer to both: Well, to me of course la my younger sis. Percaya tak!!

My friends who are able to make it to the dinner Rose, Fadzil, Roobs, Kak Kas & her husband (abang Ramly) :-)

The magic combination: Great Food & Even Greater Company