Writing

So I Stopped Writing For A Year

Feb 21

I stopped writing for a year right now. Something happened: I lost my interest in writing, out of the blue. It’s like a draining water or a car of empty fuel. I did writing an article or two but it’s not like I was before. I used to write at least three long article in a week.

Please, don’t do dirty dancing in front of me, honey. I’m trying to battle with my own enemy; myself. Sadly, I blame it on the universe. As accusatively as bewitched blamed it on the weatherman.

And good felt good about blaming it on someone else.

I think I’m going to stop writing this year too. Somehow I lost interest in it. But I cried my heart out to force my writing spirit to come back.

Why? Because only writing can make feel great. Even if I write 2000 words long, CTRL+A, and push DELETE, I still feel good about it. It’s a wonder that how my fingers are wildly roaming on the land of cluttered alphabets and numbers can give me a breath of peace.

I discovered there were many obtacles. When I was full of heart in writing a thousand words, facebook took that awesomeness away, pinterest blowed my mind, and Instapaper begged me to read the unread articles. At this vey minute, I heard my dear daughter were coughing endlessly through the night.

I cried. Take a full deep breath, try to regain my mood again.

Heartbreak at Annur

Aug 10

Last week, I had a heartbreak. My daughter broke my heart. Not like she didn’t love me back, or frowning when I expected her to smile back at me. She broke my heart in a way of not being strong enough to be a healthy girl.

It all started when I received a call from my wife, telling me Widad had been warded due to problems with her lungs. And this was what happened after that : I saw my heart, like a fragile mirror, free falling in the air and about to fall into pieces — million of pieces. I was just standing there, waiting for that burning motion to be completed.

I reminded myself: It’s just a light complication in her lung and the doctor just followed the procedures.

There’s nothing death about it.

My bright morning turned into black and white.

How am I going to do work if I can’t stop thinking about her?

My wife told me that she’d be alright, the world’s still here, and there’s nothing to worry about. The doctor needed to examine thoroughly because my daughter failed to respond with the antibiotic given, prior to the day before that.

To tell you the truth, I’m not a strong person when it comes to deal with emotions. That event didn’t weigh any magnitude to bring my daughter to fatality phase or endanger her life completely. I should feel relax because she would be alright after all. But the thing was, I failed to do that.

Outside, my face was showing no sad emotion whatsoever. I even fooled myself with the brightest smile when co-workers passing by.

But I was trembling inside.

I didn’t know what I was feeling then. But I knew things around me seemed like slowly vaporizing, pixelating into darkness. My eyes were half shut like nothing to see. Really, there’s nothing to see if someone I love was bedridden.

If there’s a powerful drug that could turn endless crying into everlasting smile, in a merely second, I swore to god I would buy it. I didn’t care if I had sell my kidney. Because every second Widad crying in agony, it sent a coding error to my world. If it went beyond reparable level, all I could see was numbers and figures, just like the Matrix.

I grabbed my bag, ignored everyone else, and rushed to the front door. My legs kept shaking while waiting for elevator to open. Thank god I wasn’t trip over when I was walking into the elevator — I was thinking hard about my daughter I forgot to control my steps. I pushed G button so hard I just don’t care if it went broke or not. Then, I pushed my way forward to KL Sentral Komuter station.

It took 45 minutes to arrive at my destination. Along that way, I was recollecting my moment with Widad, her smile, her childish acting, her cute new-learner legs that sometimes you lose confidence in her to walking straight on her own, and her curly hair that reminded me of how much she resembled me. She is mine and always be mine.

I was Feeling deprived and sadness when I entered into the elevator. It took me and 5 other persons up to level 3. I walked out of the elevator to find my daughter’s ward.

****

[Lily One Ward, Widad Saffiyah]

I was standing in front of it for a few seconds and reached a door knob with my right hand.

A bright light, came from the slight of the open door, blinded my eyes right before I saw my wife and my daughter. I put a smile on my face. My wife immediately noticed that I was wearing weird, stone look as if a mindset of emotions was drained out of me. I responded that I needed to see our daughter and then everything would be OK.

My daughter smiled at me. Like a Walt Disney cartoon, enchanted flowers manifested around her in a magical way.

Submit Your Stories

Mar 16

We are inviting all mommies and daddies out there to be part of KambingBujang, who are willing to share interesting stories about your family life especially couples who just become new parent.

KambingBujang is a personal blog about parenting story of a new family, where we are eager to share, in gung ho mode, about our experience with parenting a son. So we start documenting the highlights of our life, our opinion about certain topics, taking notes and share to our readers.

Looking back the trails of our feets, our blog is lack of communication between the writers and the followers. We don’t want it continues to be like that and we want to develop relationship with our readers. To make a twist on our weakness, the two-way communication must be, bouncing back and forth between us.

To value our readers, again we would like to open the sea of opportunity for you, sharing your story to other mommies about:

/.funny and silly experience so we can lift up a lesson,

/.sad and heavyhearted stories so other people could feel gratitude of what they have and;

/.truly brave and inspiring story that could highlights encouragement to others.

We would love to hear about truly-exciting, in-depth, original, inspiring, heroic, sad, and funny stories of parenting. If you don’t have any idea in mind, we hope our suggested titles below could turn your creativity into a writing.

# 10 things I love about parenting.

# The story of the new father.

# How I teach my children about finance

# How to make your children listen to you?

# The story in the labor room.

# My feelings toward my newborn baby.

Your story can be in English or BAHASA MALAYSIA, it’s your choice.

We hope that this effort, with the power of your parenting stories, will put a spice in KambingBujang blogosphere. Do email us your story: [1] kambing.huda@gmail.com [2] filtuse@gmail.com.