Nur Iman Nisha

A woman's journey

[imannisha-blog]

Z, Gadis Remaja Bertudung

Z, Gadis remaja Manis bertudung litup Panjang handsock menutup pergelangan Sayang giat selfie di Facebook Sayang giat berhubung bukan mahram di WhatsApp

Tinggalkan semua sayang Cita mu kan menjadi guru ugama Cita mu kan menjadi isteri dan ibu solehah

Kenapa dibubut dusta cinta tanpa nikah Kenapa dikendong mukadimah zina Kenapa terus menjual harga diri Kenapa masih membuat dosa Kenapa lupa malu di alam siber Kenapa ditinggal akhlak mulia Kenapa memilih nafsu durjana

Z, Gadis remaja Cantik dara Kulit mulus bibir bak delima merekah Hayati ayat Al-Quran yang kau paparkan Simpan kan lah semua untuk yang halal

[imannisha-blog]

Connected yet disconnected: Relationship in 21st Century

funny how, in these days and age,  2 blue ticks can make a wife very happy.

funny how, in these days and age, a like on facebook post can determine dinner's mood tonight.

did we forget, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the soft warm touch on small of the back, the meeting of two beating hearts in a comforting hug, the sweet gentle breath shared in a kiss, the deep dive into another's soul via a loving glance.

impossible to have perhaps, post grueling day at work and at home, a date night where both partners hunched in bed over warm smartphones connected to their chargers faces aglow in blue light of technology meaning to keep the distance near instead creating a distance amongst the near.

[imannisha-blog]

I made a woman cry

I made a woman cry yesterday.

I stared at her with thoughts of feeling jealous,

for my bereft heart never felt so empty.

  She held my hands as

I shared her my heartbreak story:

Every abuse and misuse

every thoughtless action and neglect

every careless glance and hurtful word

every duplicity and absence of affection,

a husband can inflict on a wife of 7 years.

I told her everything.

  I made a woman cry yesterday.

I wanted to share her my happy story:

Every smile and belly laugh of pure happiness of connection

every gentle touch and forehead kiss

every sweet whisper of “Sayang, I miss you”

every query he sent in the family group chat when I was sick in bed

everything a husband did for a wife of 5 years.

I wanted to tell her everything.

  I let the woman cried for me instead

for my lost love for my lost self.

I have nothing left.

[imannisha-blog]

Breathe

Breathe. What you know is the past, and is dead.

Breathe. Thoughts are just thoughts.

Breathe. Roiling stomach. Constricted throat.

Breathe. Hot unshed tears. Don’t blink.

Breathe. Pain is to make you stronger.

Breathe. In and out. In and out.

Breathe.

[remnant-thoughts]

Note to self (8) // love, noted remnant-thoughts

[imannisha-blog]

It’s okay

[imannisha-blog]

Second Chance

The darkening dusk sky was a warmer greeting than the silent spouse on the driver’s seat. She stared outside, upwards, to the thunderous violet sunset. “So, how was your day?” Stifling a sigh, she turned, her fake grin falling effortlessly, confronted by eyes not bothering to meet hers. “How was work?” perfunctory words in a perfunctory marriage.

Someone told me once that you can sell your old iPhone on Facebook for a few hundreds, or at least a fifty. People will pay for the gadgets that you’d spent thousands of your hard earned dollars or of the easy fast personal loan that you can’t seem to stop refinancing year after year after year.

Another said to me: I knew a chef, 20 years in business, who found his dream boss, who allowed him to built his dream kitchen, who worked until there were grey streaks on his temple, who worked until there were whites in his tongue, who were told, that’s stage 4B, sorry, we have to remove 3/4 of your tasting organ, sorry, you have 30% chance of surviving. Sorry.

Second chance is the name of the Facebook group.

Second chance is what the Chef got, after an experimental chemo.

Second chance, is what you’ll get, if you look up and smile at me.

“Fine.” is what she said instead Looking outside, upwards, to the thunderous violet sunset.