God is the best 'painkiller'

This is an article I wrote for my blog http://jfa3903.wordpress.com a few months ago. Just want to share my experience, for benefits of all insyaAllah.

Growing up in a very Islamic home, I was sent to religous institutions for education, from as early as in kindergarten up until now, the IIUM.
In my house (during my school days), songs other than nasyeeds are strictly forbidden. Watching movies in cinema was out of the question. Even Astro has been cancelled by my mother just because it ‘distract us from ibadah’. We will perform prayers congregationally everytime it is possible, and have tazkirah or usrah sessions afterwards. I was forced by my parents to attend Islamic camps and programs. That is the kind of life I had at home.
When I went to boarding school in SHAMS, it got more intense (typed ‘worse’, but it just sounds wrong). Congregational prayers are compulsory, every evening we have to be in the surau for hours, reciting Yaasin, Ma’thurat etc. Not only that, we also had this ession called Tasmi’ where we were forced to memorize prayers and verses in Quran by our seniors. During Tasmi’, we will be punsihed severely if we didnt read the verses right, or didnt memorize the prayers.
Just when I thought things couldnt get any ’more intense’, I entered KISAS. The school was like a whole new place for me. Turban were compulsory after school hours (except for sports time). Interaction between male and female students are VERY limited, up to the point where we used doors as the hijab between us to speak! ‘Lowering our sight’ from seeing opposite sex were forced upon us, and I swear there were incidents of girls stumbled and tripped because of that! Every night we had this session called ‘liqa’ dewan makan’ where the senior will scold us for the tiniest mistakes we made in school. It was VERY Islamic, VERY intense.
I have to admit I never actually liked it, being in Islamic environment. Maybe its just my young, rebellious youth self talking, but frankly, during all those years in SHAMS and KISAS, I actually tried not to be too ‘Islamic’. That is exactly the reason why I was always on the top of the BADAR (Badan Da’wah Akhlak dan Rohani) black list. Little did I know that these ‘extreme’ regime of Islamic environment and practices were the preparation for me when I walk into the ‘real’ world in university.
The first year of my life in the Matriculation Center was disastrous. I suffered a massive cultural shock I was so excited and agitated to try a lot of new things. I went to shopping malls, watch late night movies in cinemas, loitering around KL, and all of these I did with a bunch of friends-boys AND girls. I never did such thing before in my life, and I really enjoyed it. This was when I forgot all the teachings and trainings I had in school. My prayers are not as on time as before, I recite Quran once a week during Jumaat prayer, Yaasin and Ma’thurat were totally out of the picture. I got drifted so bad up to one point, I cannot really see myself as a former religous school student anymore. All I cared was that I am now an adult, living in the city with all the freedom I never even imagined before.
That’s when life hit a blow on me. My first sem result was a disaster. I was always the top of the class during my school years so it was a huge slap in the face. I was so shocked and disappointed I considered the option of quitting. Never before in my life I felt so stupid, hopeless, and so many regrets filled in my heart. And at that moment, I was lost. I wanted to go running back to my parents and cry, but I am an adult (at least that’s what I thought). My friends wouldnt even bother to listen. I was lonely and depressed.
What I did after that? I became much worse. The next semester, I went out almost everyday because I hated the campus so much. I hated the lecturers, the assignments, the quizzes, the whole programme to be frank. I thought that to unwind myself, I had to go out and have fun. Enjoy my freedom, go do things that I want. Prayers, Quran, all became strangers to me. I was totalled! And as expected, my result plummet. However, this time, I was not in shock anymore. I just laughed. I knew it was coming, and I was ready for it. Well, at least I thought I was.
Even though I was expecting that kind of result, and I laughed them off, it still hurt. There’s something in my heart that I cannot shut it off. The feeling of regret and sadness. At that moment, my emotion brought me travelling through time to the past. I realized that I was such a bright kid, everyone looked up to me. Abundance of hopes were placed on me to become a very seuccessful man in the future. I had the brain, and I was a debater so I had the charisma as well, and I was a natural leader. I had so much potential. How did it end up like this. From a prodigy to a scum bag, kutu rayau, kutu embun? What happened? Iasked myself many times. I cried in my room that night.
A very strange thing happened that night. Suddenly, out of the blue, I felt something. I missed those years of ‘tortures’ in school. I missed the routine of congregational prayers, Quran recitations, discipline drills, scoldings and yellings from seniors and teachers. How is that possible? I hated those ‘regimes’ so much I tried my best to elude them, and yet, now, I long for them? That’s when it hits me. In schools, even though I wasnt that happy with all those things, I never felt that sad before. I never regretted going to surau and stayed for hours. I never regretted reciting Yaasin and Ma’thurat everyday. As unhappya as I was, I was successful! I hated those regimes before I did them, and yet after I finished each and every one of them, it actually felt nice. How I miss those feelings, God knows. I cried and cried, and after a very long MIA, I went to the mosque. I was shaking when I entered, I took my ablution, and started to pray. I was crying so hard I cannot even finish reciting Fatihah. I then sat down and just cried and cried, not to my parents, not to my friends, but to Allah, The One who was always there for me. I cried because I missed Him, I cried because I loved Him, and I cried because I fear Him all at the same time. I prayed for forgiveness, I prayed for success, to ease my burden, to ease my emotion. I kept on crying and praying until I felt asleep.
The next day, i woke up with a swollen pair of eyes. I felt so tired and sleepy, but in my heart, I felt REALLY reliefed and happy! It felt like somebody lifted a huge rock from my shoulder. My results were still the same, the night didnt magically transformed my grades to As, but just crying to God helped me curing my heart.
Do not be fooled though, I didnt became a saint after that. After a while, I drifted again, but everytime I will somehow come back. All thanks to those ‘regimes’ in school, to those camps my parents sent me, to those tazkirah and usrah I was forced to listen. Up until now, in IIUM, I’m still having this experience, the experience of being a normal human being that goes astray, but managed to always come back crying to Allah for forgiveness. I am proud and happy to sya that I improved, I am a better Muslim now than before, but certainly I can and will become better.
For my friends out there, whenever you fall, come back to Allah and ask for His forgiveness, as that is, without no doubt, the best medicine of all…

Afif Badhrulhisham
Vice President (Internal Affairs)
Wawasan Club IIUM 2009