copying is forbidden

Sunday, November 13, 2011

the journal [finale]

   I woke up after hearing the birds. Crap, I accidently slept during my work… I flicked the switch on the device. When the lights came out, I was tremendously happy. My invention was a success. As I looked around my circular shaped room enlighten with the light, I felt satisfied.
   Owh man, I forgot about them. Now I have to save my guts and these formulas. When they came, bursting into my room, I managed to run away, after grabbing my journal that is. As I ran, saw a big rock and hide myself behind it.  These formulas must not fall into the wrong hands. I flipped through the pages before I made up my mind and tore the pages with the formulas apart. Not that I need it to remember.
   I utterly despise myself. How can I let myself be caught and treated this way? I was to be blame. I put myself into this situation. Well, at least I managed to burn the papers. Argh, not too rough. This was why I hate insolent people. I know as Moslems I was not supposed to think like that. I saw my journal in their priest’s hands. That smirked on his face really getting on my nerves.
   They had put it on. This was it. I can’t believe I foolishly put myself into this. Well, sorry father. I was not careful. I was about to be burn alive under charge of practicing witchcraft and wizardry. The horror of insolence. Argh, it’s hot!!!!
   “Ariff, wake son… What’s wrong???”
    “Where am I? Where are they?” Urgh, my head hurts like hell. When I opened up my eyes, I saw a lady standing beside me with a distraught look on her face.
   “You’re in your room young man. Now quit it out.” She stood up. “Wash your face and get downstairs at once. The men have come to collect that journal they asked you to translate.” She pointed to the journal I placed on the table.
   I looked at her as if she was insane. “Why would I want to let the others understand my journal? Who are you anyway?”
   The lady looked at me queerly and shakes her head lightly. “Wake up Ariff. Will you? I’m your mother and I said get yourself downstairs right now.” With that she left the room. 
   Later, after I washed my face, I looked into the mirror. A pale young man looked back at me. His eyes were red and fears clearly shone in his eyes. When was it, the last time I felt myself at disarray? I wiped my face and took a deep breathe.
   I saw those two men in black, as I called them, sitting solemnly as usual. Rigid and foreboding. I took a seat, obviously aware of their eyes following my every action. My mother left us alone after placing the drinks on the tea table. I knew my parents were listening behind the kitchen door.
   “Good evening Ariff. How are you feeling?” Mr. Meade broke our awkward silence.
   “Not quite good, I dare say.” Especially after seeing both of you, I added under my breath. “Let’s get this done. Here” Without delay, I took the journal and its translation papers and placed them on the table.
   They took the papers and looked through them. I watched them anxiously. I prayed. I really do, hardly that they do not ask any questions. Every page they read, I observe their faces for clues on what they thought are. However, their faces still resemble those of a mannequin. If they did not move, they could pass as one or even a puppet. I smiled at the thought.
   “What so amusing, may I ask?” Mr. Kennans’ words brought me back to reality.
   “Nothing.” I straighten my back. I need to keep my cool. “So, that’s it, I believe?”
   “A second there young man. Is this really all the translation there is?”
   “Yes” I solemnly answered back with a straight face. “That’s all there is it but I can’t confirm it to you because the way it was written was not liked any ordinary code.” Well, not really. I didn’t write about the last part of the journal that sparked my interest and I believe will also spark theirs. I can’t, can I?
   “Hm… Let see. Ariff, doesn’t it interest you, the origin of this journal?” It did bother me but I am not going to tell them that. Seeing my poker face, Mr. Meade let a sigh out. “Anyway, I’m still going to tell you this. The journal was found in a ruin of a church. We did some carbon dating on it. It’s believed that the journal was about 300 years old.”
   “So? What is there to be excited about?”
   Hearing that, Mr. Meade smiled and continued “Well, here the interesting part. It was found in a secret stone vault with a phrase on the wall inside. Do you know what was chiseled on it?”
   “You tell me.” I said, not meaning to be rude just that I wanted to get done with it.
   As if on cue, Mr. Kennans read the phrase from his notes. “This was a book believed to contain the key to humans’ civilization.”
  My irises enlarged of amusement. So they did know about it. Weirdly, that was what that came into my mind.
   “Have you searched for the author’s name in the journal, Ariff?” suddenly Mr. Meade asked. “Here, take a look again.” He passed it back to me.
   I flipped through its pages until I came to the back of the book. There, at the bottom of the pages, written in small and neat Arabic words, ‘This book belongs to Ariff Zukifli also known as Azimul Ariff (Paramount Ariff)’. There I sat silently after reading that sentence. I was really taken aback by it. I looked back at both of the men in front of me. I knew then that they knew I was hiding something.
   After retrieving back the journal, to my surprise, both of them rose to their feet and bid goodbye with a promise that they will be in touch with me. Seeing their back, I knew that they were willing to do anything to get the formula. At that point, I realized that my life will never be the same again.
   Also be known, when you are reading this, I am not sure whether I am still alive, running for my dear life with helps from my grandfather or I am dead, died for the greater good. One thing that you can be sure is that I will not give this formula to those that may harm the ummah. If one day, that if I am still alive, the ummah rises up and stand tall, I will willingly give the formula to its leader.
                                                                                                                                      -Azimul Ariff-

*****
sorry for the delay due to some technical problems. still, hope you enjoy this story and support me in the future...

Saturday, May 21, 2011

the journal [part 2]

   Poor guy. Never had a chance to say what he wants. I guess I'm pretty lucky that I could still have my say in my matters. Father and mother respected my views and decisions like declining all of the offers made. Well only grandfather opposed. He said I'm wasting my precious talents in high school. Can't blame him at that but was it wrong for me to choose a normal life. Maybe I was being selfish as he said I was.
   I turned to love reading this journal. It was as if I was reading another me but entirely at different era. I found no use of reading it further as I saw that it contained normal adolescents' entries on their journal. But... As I said, I turn to love reading it. Maybe I do need a break.

  Father sent me up north, in provinces not yet governs by the Moslem's. He let me in the care of his friend, Sir Ferguson. Watching the people here from the castle tower, I must conclude that these people are still barbaric. Their feudalism is corrupted. Their ways of living are still uncivilized. This is exactly the opposite of life in the Moslem's' govern. If Moslems are in the golden era. Here is like living in the dark ages.

    I could not help but to smile thinking how the opposite the reality we are living in now. Sadly all those fame were just history now. Moslems now are the uncivilized, always pointing fingers towards one another and using violence to solve their problems. Are we in the dark ages now?
    "Ariff, Fatima! Come down here! Your grandfather is visiting."
  Crap, how could I forget. He did mention to come one of these days. In a blink of an eye, I was in the living room. Fatima, my little sister tailed me. We approached him cautiously. Not because he has a contagious disease but more because we never see each other eye to eye. We greet him, shaking his cracked hands. But as I was shaking his hands, suddenly he grabbed me and hugged me tightly. Man, that was weird.
   "I knew one of these days, people will acknowledge your talents and put them in good use."
  Where were my manners? My grandfather's name was Max Taylor. Yes, he is a European and a Christian. He was my mother’s father. He was kind but still as a retired navy general he tended to get a tad bit of strict. Especially with me. You see, he was kind of expecting some greatness within me with all my so called talents but I just want to be me. That day, when he hugged me, somehow I knew my mother blurted out about the visit.
   “It’s nothing special grandfather. They just want me to translate an old journal. Nothing much.”
   “But a journal that holds the fate’s of our Nation. Son, you’re destined to be a great man. A man who will make history.”
   “I rather be history.” I didn’t know how I could said that. Sure enough, he got mad.  
   “That attitude of yours that keep you down! Always saying to be a normal kid. You’re born special. Get that fact into your head. Life is not with reasons. If your prophet choose to be normal and neglect his duties and gifts, where do you think you’ll be now?” he sneered into my face.


   Argh! Why am I bestowed with such a look? It’s a pain strolling in the forest with girls stalking your every move from afar. No, I must be grateful. This face of mine was my mother’s. She did came from this land. How she met my father, I had no idea… I miss them both. Oh, that’s right! I found an amazing, what should I call it, invention? Whatever. Anyway I found a formula that could lead men to produce energy for all kind of power without wasting any. I must try it tonight.


   Was he talking about cold fusion? I thought that was just a scientific myth. Well, if he does then, that’ll be cool but why there are no talks on this finding? That was the last entry on the journal. The next pages seem to be torn off from the book. Looking closely, I thought of an idea. Mysteriously, there seem to be a trace of what last written. A few minutes later, the letters resurfaced.


  It was a mistake. I shouldn’t finish the work here. I forgot my father advice on these people. They were still ignorant of science. I’m in hiding now. These may be the last entry. I must burn the formula. I don’t think how it can reach the Moslems’ hand. Letters from father convince my deduction that the Moslem’s empire will perish in about fifty years or so. They are now power stricken and love luxuries. This formula better be destroyed than having it in the wrong hands.  They are coming…


   I was silent after reading the last entry. What happened to him then? What a waste that the formula was destroyed. If not, we might not be having wars to gain more energy resources now. I brought my thought with me when I sleep that night and it changed everything…  

Saturday, April 2, 2011

the journal [part 1]

        It was exactly eight o'clock that night when they came. It never came across my mind that that night will change my life forever. When the doorbell rang, I was just about to go to my room to continue my project. On my way upstairs, I saw them, as my father invited them in. Two tall figures with the most solemn look I ever see. Even my grandfather look like a kid compared to them.
      I never imagined looking at them, back then that their visit will ever involve me. As I was continuing my project I heard my mother called for me. As usual, as fast as I can, four steps at a time, I came to the living room.
      "Oh, there you are Ariff. Meet Mr. Meade and Mr. Kennans. They're from the National Archeology Office. They want to show you something."
     It was weird, really. My mother was obviously faking her smile when she said that and the room was filled with a grim atmosphere. Have I done something wrong? Ransacking my head, I didn't remember anything that I done could ever land me in this situation. Am I in trouble?
     "You're Ariff? Ariff Zulkifli or better known as Paramount Ariff?" the man my mother said was Mr. Kennans asked. His eyes moving up and down, judging and analyzing me as he waited my answer.
     "Yes... Yes I am... Is there a problem?"
     "No son. We just want to show you something.." the other said as he took out a velvet box out of a black bag.
     What's up with these guys? I just couldn't understand. I took the box with him firmly told me to handle it with care as it was an ancient relic. Do you know what was inside it? Okay, I was kind of expecting something cool but then again they are from the National Archeology Office. Inside the box was just an old book. The book, when I closely inspected it, was in fact a journal.
       "Okay... I don't mean to be rude but am I suppose to do with this journal?"
       "So, it's a journal... Hm.." said Mr. Meade.
       I was taken aback. What was going on here? Suddenly, their eyes filled with interest. What did I just said?
      "So, you understand the writing on that book?"
      "Don't you???"
     "Here's a deal. We will pay you tremendously if you kindly translate that journal for us."
     "The Nation's future may rest in your hand."
     With that, they excused themselves and leaving us, the whole family, estranged.
   I was dumbfounded. After they left, my parents bombarded me with questions that even my brilliant mind can't answer them. I can't understand what's going on either. Well my parents seem not to be satisfied with my answer but still they let me go. Up in my room, I tried to put my thought together. What's so important with the journal and more importantly, why, of all people, they choose me to translate it.
     The next day, I went to school as usual. Along the way, I noticed some weird guys watching me. Or was it the journal? Come to the think of it, maybe they were securing the journal as it may contain the future of our Nation, or so they said. The journal itself, I did not yet get the chance to inspect. It laid safely in the velvet box in my backpack.
      "Ariff, are you paying attention to what I said?"
     Dang it. I almost forgot I was still in class. Like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, I can only give my most charming smile. “Sorry teach."
      "Quit smiling like that." As usual, still it's a mystery to me, most people just can't stand my smiling face. They, mysteriously, do what I want them to do. "Just don't let me caught you like that again. Come to the front and solve these problems."
      "Is it okay if I just say the answer here? It's such a bother to go to the front. Well for question 59 the answer should be x+y and for question number 60 it should be x=67439.0986 and y=87439.04204."
     "Hm?? God I can't stand this kid. Yes the answers are correct but will you mind to at least pay attention to my teachings. The others are putting you as their example."
      "I'm sorry ma'am. I don't intend to disrespect you neither to set a bad example. I am utterly regret what I had done." I gave her the puppy dog eyes.. I hate when this happen.
      "Yes Ariff. I know you didn't mean it. Will you just sit down so I can continue my teachings?"
      "With most respect."


     I finally reached the House of Wisdom. I traveled a long way to reach here. Now I can distinguished my burning thirst for knowledge. The city was as I expected. They even had lights without using fires or candles. It's a good thing I made my decision to come here.


      Do people have electricity back then? After reading some of the pages o the journal, I came to conclusion that whoever wrote this was an ace in knowledge. Adding to that, I thought he was the same age as me. If he really that brilliant, I wish to meet him somehow. It almost like a century needed to find someone like that. I mean, he was also major in sports like riding a horse, swimming, archery and... Soccer anyone???
     "Aw, come on Ariff. It's not like everyday we got the chance to play with the Paws at their own private soccer field. They said, we can only get it if we bring you with us. Seems like some international soccer scout will also be there if you come."
    "Mark, how many times do I have to repeat myself that I only play soccer for exercise. Beside, I'm quite busy this weekend. Mr. Howard demands are getting ridiculous day by day. Those problems were for physics students at Harvard if I'm not mistaken..."
    "Argh, again with the science freak. Are you an alien or what? Come to the think of it, what are you doing here for? I heard last summer you got offers to continue studies at Harvard for any course you choose. Really dude, you're without flaws.” Is that a sigh I heard?? 
    "Nope. Nobody is perfect. I can't... Ha, I can't sing! You know they paid me to stop singing last year. Man, I was the worst, not even a tune was right."
   "Hmph, but you compose zillion of songs already.”
   "Not that much... Argh!!! Will you stop it already! I'm only 17 for heaven's sake and for your information, am still a human being!!!"


    Why did they demand so much from me. I came here to distinguish my thirst for knowledge. Only that. Stop. I'm not that great as that Syafie guy. I'm just a kid. Today, I got a letter from my father. He's sending me out again. Thank goodness I finished reading all those books in the House of Wisdom. I couldn't believe myself that I had finish reading those mountains of books in one month. Wonder where he intended to sent me next.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

the silver lining that never came..

    The day was gloomy, as gloomy as my heart. It was raining, not too gentle nor too fierce. The heaven seems also to cry. The rains helped to disguise my tears as I stood here at the cemetery. I was watching them lowering my best-friend into the grave.
     All eyes sometimes diverted to me. I know. They may be wondering what am I doing at a Christian Cemetery. Let the be. Let me dwell in my loss. I nearly succeed but I never thought that it was going to end like this.The letter he wrote to me, I held it between my fingers. I will miss him, a lot. It happened so fast that I did not made it, to stop it.

    It was the day before. We were just relieved ourselves from our tonnes of home works. Then, he said something that I almost cursed myself for not realizing it back then.
    "Hey, Ahmad, will you miss me if I was gone?"
    "Where are you going? You're not running away, aren't you?"
    "No, it just that I'm sick of them. Mom seems too attached to that new hubby of hers. I feel that I am neglected."
    " You are always against her. It was even since before she met him. To me, you don't seem to be neglected. You're the luckiest gut I ever know. You have all that a boy could wish for. She devotes herself and her money to you."
    " Really...Is that so... Well, frankly speaking, I never thought that I was lucky at all. All you see are just the materials. Nothing more. I want her love, her attention, her acknowledgment that I am indeed her son.."
    "I'm sorry, really, I am. I know that you're suffering but as I said before, every cloud has its silver lining. If you keep thinking of the love that you didn't obtain, go on and search for the true and one love. the love of your God. All mankind will die but God never dies."
    "You keep reminding me of God. It's good to talk with you, Ahmad, but what God may I ask? I don't feel a thing in my God."
    "God forbids, don't talk like that. Have faith. That is why I said search for it, you're a brilliant young man for heaven's sake."
    "It's not your God, it's mine!! Never mind that, I'm sorry I yelled at you. Have faith huh?? I'll keep that in mind"
    That was when I glimpsed at my watch."Is it that late already? Well Tim, that my cue. Excuse me, I want to meet my Lover.."
    "Your lover?? Yeah, right. You mean you God right?"
    "Bingo! Well, till next time I believe, goodbye."
    "Bye Ahmad." and he murmured something.. "You're my one true friend.." As I went, I watched him with a sad smile. Yeah, things had been tough on him..I never guess that that will be our last meeting..
    There was no next time. That night, I received the call. The heartwretching call. It was his mother.
    "Hello, is..is this Ahmad..Isk.."
    "Yes ma'am, may I help you??"
    "Oh, Ahmad, it's Tim.. Please come here.. Here at Tim's house... Please hurry.."
    "Okay ma'am, I'll be there in a minute."
   It was odd.. I went to his house using my bike. In split seconds I was there. His step-father ushered me inside. That was when I saw the sight that I could never forget. Tim was laying lifelessly on his mother laps. I was dumbstruck. I touched his body. It was cold as ice. That was when I saw the rope. Why Tim? Why did it turn out this way? His mother handed me a piece of paper. It was a letter. scrawny written words confirmed that it was his final words, but for me? My name was clearly written on it. Her eyes shined. I understand. I read the letter out loud for his mother ears.

    Dear Ahmad,
           When you are reading this, I know for sure that I am no longer there.I'm sorry to do this to you. the truth is, that evening, hearing you said that, I almost forgive my mother... However, as you always said, we make plans, God makes plans, His plans are the supreme. Well, I was thinking of what you said earlier. I even plan to join your faith for I have none of my own. However, thanks for the birthday wishes for you see my own mother forget. I was down then. Then I was out of my mind when late this evening she said she wanted to celebrate something with her hubby. That's it... I could not stand this any longer.. Forgive me for I betray you...
                                                                                                                                  Timothy.


I cried. I did. I cried, why did he resorted to such way.Still, what can be done. the milk has spilled.


The rains has stop but the sky still dark as it can be. I read the words engraved on his tombstone. 'Here lies Timothy Rider who valiantly search for love till his last day'.  I was devastated but I know what I felt was not as worse as what his mom may felt. I watched her standing by. Her tears had stopped for she knew her son will never lived again but sorrow did filled her heart for watching afar you'll know it. Whose heart will not break, her only son suddenly killed himself because of her. Adding to that, his last words were for his friend not for you her...
    Her words that night really remind me of something important.." I never thought that he will do something like this.. He.. He's my dearest son... Now I know the importance of love..."