Tentang Solat

Copy and paste.....

Bila engkau anggap solat itu hanya penggugur kewajiban maka kau akan terburu-buru mengerjakannya.

Bila kau anggap solat hanya sebuah kewajiban maka kau tak akan menikmati hadirnya Allah saat kau mengerjakannya.

Anggaplah solat itu pertemuan yang kau nanti dengan Tuhanmu.

Anggaplah solat itu sebagai cara terbaik kau bercerita dengan Tuhanmu .

Anggaplah solat itu sebagai kondisi terbaik untuk kau berkeluh kesah dengan Tuhanmu .

Anggaplah solat itu sebagai seriusnya kamu.

Bayangkan ketika “azan berkumandang” rahmat Allah melambai ke depanmu untuk mengajak kau lebih dekat denganNya.

Bersegeralah menyahut panggilanNya.

Panggilan dari kekasih untuk kekasih.

Makcik and the Boy With No Resume

Copy and Paste this story from FB. Good to share.......

Last weekend, I was in Melaka running a CV clinic with my team, as part of the SL1M roadshows. This is where we help check young graduates' resumes (for free) -- and give them advice on how to make them better.

It's draining work (some of my colleagues talk to >50 people a day and end up with sore throats), but we find comfort in the fact that we're helping young people. And every once in a while, a good story emerges; for us to talk, think, and maybe even laugh and cry about.

This is my story from last weekend, and it nearly made me cry.

--

It was around lunch time, so things were pretty quiet at our booth. It was just me and another colleague (who was sitting on the other side, so she didn't see what happened).

A skinny young guy wearing a "Lejen" t-shirt walks into our booth, followed by a baju kurung-clad lady who must have been about 50+ years old. Now I'm sure you have opinions about kids who bring their mothers to interviews, and so do I. But I see it pretty often now, so I don't really mind if the youth takes charge and the parent reads newspapers at the waiting area. But Makcik sits down right in front of me, beside her son.

"Kat sini boleh buat resume ya?" says the boy.

"Oh, sorry dik -- kat sini kami hanya tolong check saja. Kalau you ada bawak resume, saya boleh tolong."

"Oh... Diaorang bagi tau sini boleh buat..." Makcik replies.

"Sorry makcik, sini memang kitaorang tolong check saja. Tapi mungkin saya boleh tolong ajar macam mana nak tulis. Kemudian nanti Abang ni boleh sambung buat kat rumah."

Abang Lejen and Makcik don't object, so I get right into my "What makes a good resume" script. My sample resume’s in English and he doesn't seem very well-educated, so I keep my explanations simple. And I've learned that me going on and on isn't terribly effective, so I quickly end it and switch to Q&A mode:

"Hafiz (not real name), dekat Uni you belajar apa?"

"Hafiz tak habis belajar dik. Dia sampai PMR saja. Makcik suruh dia habiskan SPM, tapi dia malas."

This is what I call the 3rd party shame moment. The moment where a loved one (usually a female) uses a 3rd party to hammer home their intended message. And because I usually happen to be the situational "trustworthy big brother" nowadays, it happens to me a lot. It's awkward and I hate it.  

I expect Hafiz Lejen to roll his eyes or show some sort of dissent. But he's surprisingly quiet. Which is when I first realize there's something a bit uncommon about Mommy's Boy. What's more, I realize he's also shivering; quite badly. At one point, Makcik hushes him, and holds his hands to give him some warmth.

"Sejuk ke?" I ask, typically obvious Malaysian question.

"Ah ah... time kitaorang datang tadi, hujan lebat."

"Macam mana datang tadi?" I enquire further.

"Naik motor dik."

At this point, my respect for Makcik is at an all-time high. But I have some doubts on whether she's spoiling her son by taking charge so much. I can tell she's a hustler -- but is she the reason he's a slacker?

--

"Okay, nanti Hafiz sambung buat resume sendiri dekat rumah ya?" I say -- staring at the person who needs to take charge of his own life.

"Boleh abang tolong buatkan tak?" Hafiz asks.

I'm irritated. As every frontliner knows, there comes a point where you're just wasting your time, and need to get back to your core clients. It's opportunity cost. Every moment you spend layan-ing a lost cause, is time you could have spent making your core customers happy.

I look up and around to see if anyone else needs help. Thankfully, my colleague is comfortably handling everyone else.

"Takpe, mak tuliskan. Tak susah sangat pun. Tulis nama, alamat, sekolah saja kan..." I'm brought back to our table by Makcik pulling out a white A4 sheet of paper and starting to hand-write her son's resume.

"Makcik, untuk company sini semua -- kena print resume pakai computer," I plead. "Lagipun, company-company sini perlukan at least Diploma atau Ijazah."

"Takpe, tak susah sangat pun," she tunes me out. "Makcik dah tanya tadi... company XXX cakap boleh. Tapi kena hantar resume. Diaorang cakap sini boleh buat."

Sometimes your belief becomes your reality. I give in and help the two complete their unlikely hand-written resume. As we get to the "co-curricular activities part," I ask if Hafiz was involved in anything outside of school.

"Dia pernah main bola untuk Melaka. Untuk pelajar istimewa."

It takes me a while to realize what and how special "istimewa" means. And then it all starts to make sense. We get to the end, and Makcik puts down her pen.

It's the ugliest resume I've ever seen. It's also the loveliest.

--

But our mission isn't complete. I have to bring some decency to a Leaderonomics-checked resume. So I bring Makcik and Hafiz to a neighboring booth. There, they have computers and printers for rent. And a photo printing service. Between the two of our booths, we will complete Makcik's mission.

Hafiz leaves us to take his passport photo. As we observe him awkwardly posing for the camera, my curiosity gets the better of me. I like to understand what makes hustlers tick.

"Makcik masih lagi kerja ke?" I ask.

"Oh tak, dulu makcik berniaga, tapi sekarang makcik dah berhenti sebab ada kanser." She says it so casually that I can't believe it and make her repeat herself.

"Makcik ada apa!?" says tactless Aaron.

"Makcik ada kanser ovari." she says without any emotion. I still can't accept it.

"Oh, tapi Makcik dah sihat kan? Sebab boleh bawa Hafiz datang sini?"

"Tak, sebenarnya dah merebak ke hati makcik. Tapi makcik tabahkan hati. Dan fikir positif. Sebab nak teruskan perjalanan hidup ni."

I'm close to tears and I don't know what to say. So I just help them complete their mission for the day. I hope it’s enough.

May God bless you and your son Makcik. :'(

--

I know I'll probably never see them again so I needed to write down this story; their story. Maybe it contains a lesson for anyone who's going through a difficult time in life. Maybe it can encourage you, like how it encouraged me.

So whether you have an asshole client, you're missing your targets by 65%, or you think you're absolutely horrible at what you do. I want you to know that somewhere in this world, there's a cancer-stricken mother who will fetch her intelligence-challenged son through heavy rain via motorcycle -- to fight for a chance in a world where he's severely unqualified, and she cannot understand.

And she will brave the cold, not take No for an answer, and do absolutely whatever she can for what she loves and believes in.

And if she can "tabahkan diri and fikir positif" then maybe you can too.